And no Luke. Her stomach turned over, not with excitement, but fear.
A quiet and settled kind of love,
Luke had said when he proposed. She hadn’t pondered it much
.
She had been so overcome with the joy that she was going to get to be with Luke and Emma that she hadn’t considered it. After all, what difference did it make what kind of love it was? Love was love, wasn’t it?
Maybe not. How could quiet and settled come from what had passed between them? Maybe for him, someone who took sex for granted, but where did that leave her? Maybe with a heart waiting to be broken.
Stop it! Don’t think about the caramels that didn’t turn out. Think about the truffles that did.
It was easy to let it go because there was a noise from upstairs. Luke was up. She’d still have a few minutes to herself while he showered. Or maybe he would run first. But apparently he wasn’t going to shower — at least not yet, because here he was, bounding down the stairs like an elephant running away from the circus.
And he had no intention of running, either, unless he planned to do it barefoot and shirtless. She giggled a little at the thought of pressed, buttoned up Luke in public wearing nothing but those green plaid pants sitting below his hipbones. He met her giggle with a different smile — it was a little shyly conspiratorial, like they had a secret, which they did.
“We slept a long time,” she babbled nervously.
Luke laughed out loud. “No, we did not!”
“There’s coffee.”
“There’s Lanie.” He bent and kissed her.
When he pulled away, she said, “It wasn’t the champagne.”
“What wasn’t the champagne?”
“That makes your kisses taste sparkly.”
He laughed and slid under the coverlet and pulled her against his warm naked chest. “Is that a good thing? Sparkly kisses?” he let his tongue trail down her neck and reached for the ribbon ties of her gown.
“Luke! There are no curtains!”
“This is a walled property,” he murmured against her breast. “We could go on the porch naked and no one would see.”
With the smell of sausage and eggs in the air, the rain fell, lightening flashed and, as thunder rumbled through the house, Luke made her tremble — again.
It was good — so good. And so bad because this lovemaking was anything but quiet and settled.
It was close to ten o’clock Sunday night when Luke pulled into downtown Merritt. He’d planned for them to be back earlier, but they had slept late and then spent the rest of the day making love, reading, and being lazy. Before he knew it, the day was gone. Then Lanie had wanted to take a detour to buy fresh shrimp to bring home and stopping for dinner had taken longer than he’d figured.
For the first part of the trip, they had entertained Emma. After she went to sleep, he and Lanie chattered about nothing and she had admired her ring. He couldn’t help but be amused every time she lifted her hand, ran her finger over the stones, and smiled.
“I’ll get Emma, if you’ll get the door,” he said in low voice as he turned off the ignition.
Lanie hurried in front of him, unlocking doors, and turning on lights. She threw back the covers of Emma’s bed. Again, she had thought to put Emma in pajamas, so all they had to do was remove her socks.
Overcome with gratitude, Luke looped an arm around Lanie, “You’re a miracle,” he said.
She leaned into him. “Oh, hardly that.” But she was pleased.
“I’ll get the luggage,” he said.
“I’ll unlock the door of my apartment,” she said. “You can put the shrimp in my refrigerator. It’s empty so the whole cooler will fit. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
What she said about the shrimp made sense but, though it was irrational, he didn’t want her to unlock her door. He didn’t want her going there at all.
She emerged from the kitchen with a beer and a Diet Coke, just in time to see him carry her bag, along with his, down the hall to his bedroom.
She followed him. “That’s my bag,” she said, handing him the beer.
He took a long sip. He could get used to having his needs anticipated. “How did you know I was so thirsty?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I was.” She took a drink of her Coke and repeated, “That’s my bag.”
“So it is.” He went in for a kiss and let his hand trail down her side. “I want you to stay.”
“Luke, we talked about this. Emma is right down the hall.” And they
had
talked about it — just this morning, as they lay tangled in the sheets. They had agreed that, while they could discreetly have sex when Emma was sleeping, there would be no staying over until after they were married. But now, after spending two nights sleeping with a breast in his hand and the prettiest leg in the state of Alabama thrown over him, he couldn’t stand to let her go.
“I changed my mind.” He kissed her neck. She sighed. “Emma hardly ever wakes up and she never comes to my room. If she does wake up, she’s got me trained.” Now his mouth was behind her earlobe. “She yells and I go running, like the lackey that I am.”
Lanie laughed, low and sweet. “But we said we didn’t want to set a bad example.”
“She’s three. How bad can it be? You’re here every night when she goes to bed anyway. She never sees you go home.” He moved his hand to cup her bottom. “Come on, Lanie. Stay. Don’t leave me.” Then he did that thing that he’d discovered was her undoing. He ran his tongue over her collarbone.
“Well … ” She tightened her arms around his neck. “I suppose I could get up early and go home and shower. Then I could knock on the door, like usual.”
“See?” He reached for the buttons on her blouse. “See how much sense you make?”
• • •
It had been a long time since Luke had awakened of his own accord because he’d — as Susie would say — “got his nap out.” So he was startled when he woke up to silence. No little hand pulling on his nose. No alarm clock. No sheriff wanting a warrant. Best of all, no spiked boot to the gut. Though he was alone in bed, Lanie’s robe was on the footboard and the space beside him smelled like lemons and sex.
Where was she? He sat up and the clock beside him shouted 8:12. Oh, damn, no wonder she was gone. He jumped up, all set to rush into Emma’s room, but had to stop to find his sleep pants. It had also been a while since he’d slept naked.
“Lanie!” he called out as he burst into Emma’s room. She was going to be late for school. But the bed was made and the curtains tied back. He made his way through the silent living room toward the kitchen. All the curtains were open and everything looked bright and inviting. Why had he never opened the curtains? In the kitchen, the dishwasher hummed and there was a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the counter. There was no coffee made but he preferred Phillip’s espresso from downstairs. He poured a glass of juice and ate the eggs. The
Merritt Times Daily
and the
Birmingham News
lay on the kitchen table in pristine condition. If Lanie had read them, she had put them back as good as new. He liked that. Carrie had always worked the crossword puzzle, tore out articles, and left it in shambles all over the house. He quickly flipped through both papers. Good. There was nothing about his engagement or his marriage. His
first
marriage. That was a phrase he thought would never apply to him. He shook the thought away.
The brief announcement that had appeared in the papers yesterday had contained the bare bone facts and a quote from the senator. And that was all, except for a harmless little spiel in the Merritt society column.
Standing in the kitchen alone, Luke realized he wasn’t in a hurry. Surely he should be doing something but it seemed there was nothing to do. He wouldn’t mind filling the time with sex.
He grinned to himself like a sixteen-year-old who had just discovered pleasures of the flesh. Their first time together, Lanie had been so tense, he’d wondered briefly if she was a virgin. The second time, she was still tentative, but more relaxed. By the third time, she’d been eager and the sex had just gotten better. In fact, last night she had made the first move, donned in a scanty black garment that he suspected Missy had given her. Too bad she was gone. Maybe he could talk her into taking the day off. She was worried about being behind on candy making but surely he needed sex more than Merritt needed chocolate. But first he was going to get some coffee and go for a run.
As he headed back to the bedroom to dress, he caught sight of their luggage stacked neatly by the door. Lanie must have unpacked for all of them this morning. That was something he could do — take it down to the storeroom.
Downstairs, he dropped the luggage outside the storeroom and made his way toward the smell of coffee. Maybe he and Lanie could sit down and have coffee together and he could talk her into going back upstairs.
But as he neared the door of Lanie’s office, he heard a chorus of feminine laughter. Lanie, Tolly, Missy, and Lucy sat crowded around her desk with coffee and a plate of muffins. He’d never run into the four of them together this early, though sometimes Tolly stopped in for coffee. They must have really wanted the scoop. Did women talk about the quality of their sex lives? Was Lanie reporting in on his skill? If so, would it be a good report?
“Good morning,” he said.
All the women muttered pleasant good mornings as he stepped over and laid a hand on Lanie’s shoulder. She was dressed in one of those awful outfits — lime green with gummy bears. Should he kiss her in front of her friends? Would it embarrass her if he did? Would it embarrass her if he didn’t?
She smiled up at him. She didn’t seem to have embarrassment or kissing on her mind. “Would you like some espresso?” She picked up an insulated carafe from desk.
“Thank you.”
Take that, cheerleaders! See how she brought me a mug? She likes me.
“Cinnamon muffin?” She held the plate out.
“No, thanks.” He leaned on the door jam. “I ate the eggs and bacon you left upstairs.”
“I would have called you while the food was hot, but I figured you’d rather sleep.”
“Sorry I slept late,” he said. “Since I took off today, I intended to take Emma to school.”
“It was my pleasure,” she said. “She asked for you, but I persuaded her to let you sleep. Pam is working today so Missy is going to pick her up so I can get caught up.”
“Thank you,” Luke said to Missy, “but I can get her.”
“Oh, Luke, let her come with me. She and Beau haven’t seen each other in three days.”
Well, he’d wanted help and he had it — so much he felt out of control.
“All right.” He turned to Lanie. “How’s your day progressing?”
“I’ve got a big order that I need to have done by two,” Lanie said.
So much for morning sex.
“You look like you’re going to run,” Lucy said.
“That’s my plan.” He looked at Lanie. “Unless you need me for something right now.”
“No.” Lanie waved her hand like he was a fly who needed shooing away. “Enjoy your day.”
“There’s nothing I can do to help you? It’s been a while since I brought in sugar from the storeroom.”
“Phillip did it last week.”
“I’ll bring you some lunch, then.”
Lanie hesitated and exchanged a look with Tolly.
“That would be great!” she said a little too enthusiastically.
“What?” He looked from Lanie to Tolly.
“Nothing. What do you mean?” Lanie said.
“Do you and Tolly have plans?”
More hesitation. “No. Yes. Not really.” Lanie bit her lip.
“It’s nothing,” Tolly said.
“Oh, good cow!” Missy said. “Tolly brings Lanie’s lunch every Monday unless she’s in court. On Fridays, we all go to the diner together at eleven before Beau and Emma get out of school. That’s our schedule.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tolly said. “We’ll do it tomorrow when Luke goes back to work.”
“No,” Luke said. “Go on with your plans. I have a lot to do anyway. I’ll just put up the luggage and be on my way.”
As he unlocked the storeroom door, he heard the scraping of chairs and melody of farewells, followed by strains of
The Candy Man.
Too bad it wasn’t against the law to have a
Candy Man
door chime. It should be. He located a stepstool behind the door and was about to mount it with Lanie’s suitcase in hand when she appeared at the door.
“Let me have that.” She took the bag from him. “I’ll hand it to you, once you’re secure.”
“I can do this. Don’t you need to make candy?”
“I don’t want to have to stop again to take you to the hospital. You
do
have a history of falling off ladders.”
“I wouldn’t call this a ladder.” He took the bag from her and stored it on top of the corner shelving unit.
“If you crash into that pottery wheel, you might end up with more than a broken arm.” She handed him his black leather bag and then Emma’s monogrammed pink polka-dotted duffle.
Just to be belligerent and prove he could stand on a stepstool without incident, he turned sideways and leaned on the shelf. “So you have a lot of call for a pottery wheel, do you?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “No. I bought it during my art phase. I had put some pieces of pottery in a gallery. When one sold, I thought I had a career. But I never sold another one.” She looked at the floor. “They weren’t very good.”
He turned and looked at the neatly labeled plastic containers on the shelves. “Glass blowing. Quilting. Knitting. Papermaking. Sandcasting. What’s sandcasting?”
“Do you really care? I wasn’t any good at that, either.”
She had told him about the time she’d spent between leaving college and going to work at Heavenly Confections, but he hadn’t realized she had remnants of that life. He couldn’t imagine wasting time on self-discovery. He’d always known he’d be an attorney, always hoped he’d be a judge.
“Well, it’s lucky for the people of Merritt that you didn’t turn out to be a potter. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have such good candy.” He jumped down from the top step and replaced the stepstool behind the door.
“I’m the lucky one to find the only thing I’m good at.”
“Only?” He lightly stroked her ponytail. “I can think of at least one other thing you’re
exceptionally
good at.” She turned her wide eyes up and wrinkled her brow, as if she didn’t know what he meant. Maybe she didn’t. “You’re great in bed.”