Hope Flames: Hope Book 1 (23 page)

He walked over to his side of the truck. “You can try.”

“Oh, but I am going to ask you to stop at the liquor store next. And I intend to buy whiskey.”

As they climbed into the truck and he started it up, he looked over at her and grinned. “Whiskey, huh? I like the sound of that.”

“Thought you might.”

He stopped at the liquor store, and true to her word, Emma came out with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“A woman after my heart.”

“Hey, go get your own bottle. This one’s mine.”

“You wouldn’t share?”

She stared down at the bottle. “Well, it is a pretty big bottle. So . . . maybe. It depends on whether I can pry any secrets out of you with whiskey.”

He laughed as he pulled out onto the main road. “Darlin’, I’m a big keeper of secrets. Not much for revealing any.”

“Too bad. This is really good whiskey.”

The more time he spent with Emma, the more he liked her.

Every time he was with her, he drew one step closer to her. And protecting his heart lost the battle a little more.

He didn’t want a relationship, but damned if he didn’t feel like he was smack in the middle of one with Emma. Out of control and going down for the count.

He wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not.

Chapter 17

BY THE TIME they got back from the store it was getting late, so they unpacked groceries, let the dogs out for a short run, then came back in and fixed sandwiches and chips for dinner.

Emma couldn’t recall having a more relaxed night. Luke was fun, had a great sense of humor, and she no longer felt skittish or uncomfortable.

He knew all her secrets, hadn’t run, hadn’t judged her, and for some reason he liked being around her. He didn’t tell her what to do, and he seemed to enjoy her independence.

This was a refreshing, new relation—

No . . . it was just a right-now kind of thing. But whatever it was, she intended to enjoy it.

“Do you like to water-ski?” Luke asked as they were cleaning up the dishes.

Emma paused, her hands shoved in the soapy water. “I don’t know. I’ve never done it before.”

“You grew up around all these lakes and you never water-skied?”

“I know. I lived such a sheltered life. I guess I was too busy hitting the books to have a social life.”

He tilted his head down and gave her a look. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“You’re too pretty not to have had a social life.”

“I’ll accept the compliment, thank you, but in high school my hair was frizzy, I had bad acne, and I wore braces until I was seventeen. It wasn’t a pretty picture, and boys weren’t interested.”

“Obviously they were morons not to see through the hair, pimples, and braces to the beautiful young girl you were underneath.”

She looked at him. “Do you always say just the right thing?”

He laughed. “No. Usually never.”

“Well, you just did. Thank you.”

“And tomorrow you water-ski. We’ll head out early in the morning on the boat.”

Water-skiing sounded exciting. Another new adventure.

“How about a look at the night view on the back deck upstairs?” Luke asked.

“Sure.” She grabbed two glasses and the bottle of whiskey.

Luke gave her that mysterious but oh-so-sexy smile that sent her nerve endings skittering in all those questioning directions. This weekend, she decided she wasn’t going to question anything. She’d just let things develop and see where they went.

The deck was located at the end of the hall, nice because it wasn’t outside either of the bedrooms.

The sun had barely set, which meant a dusky glow still lingered over the lake. The wind had died down. Emma couldn’t hear a thing except the sounds of nature. Tall trees blanketed her on all sides, their scents cool and fragrant.

She set the bottle and glasses down on the table between their two chairs and stared out over the water. No one was
boating right now, so the lake was a mirror. She felt like she could walk right out and slide across it.

“This is beautiful. So serene, so quiet.” She leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the crickets.

“Easy to lose your sense of time and place out here,” Luke said, his voice lowering.

“Understandable. The real world is so far removed. All the stress is gone. No bills to pay, no work to do, nothing but utter relaxation. It’s a fantasy.”

She opened her eyes to find Luke’s gaze fixed on the lake. For some reason, she liked that he wasn’t looking at her.

“How about that whiskey?”

He turned to face her.

“What? You’re not going to pry secrets out of me first?”

She opened the bottle, poured two shots. “I think if you want to divulge any secrets to me, you’ll do that in your own time.”

“I might just do that. Eventually.”

She handed him a glass. “To a good weekend.”

He lifted his glass and tipped it against hers. “I’ll definitely drink to that.”

He downed his shot, and she downed hers, too, the fiery liquid burning its way down her throat. “Whoa. That’s good.”

Luke laid his glass down. “You surprise the hell out of me, Emma.”

“I do? In what way?”

“Sometimes you seem so quiet and shy. Almost as if you’re afraid of me. Other times, you’re like a saucy little flirt. I just can’t figure you out.”

She leaned back in the chair. “Good. I’d hate to be boring and predictable.”

“You’re definitely not either of those things.” He poured another shot and handed it to her.

She took it and downed the shot, then placed the glass on the table.

“Like this.”

She turned to him again. “Like what?”

“You. Doing whiskey shots. I would never have guessed you to be a whiskey drinker. More like the fine-wine type.”

She laughed. “I don’t know whether to be complimented or insulted. But I do like wine, too. Both out of the box and the kind you use a corkscrew to open.”

“See? Again . . . unpredictable.”

Her lips curved.

“You like being mysterious?” he asked.

“Not really. I just don’t want to be . . .”

“Want to be what?” he asked when she didn’t finish her sentence.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just who I am, Luke. I don’t try to be anything else.” She got up and went to the balcony, looking out over the water, her emotions jumbled up inside.

She finally turned so she could face him. “We’re all a product of our pasts. That’s what shapes the choices we make, for good or bad.”

“Is that how you ended up back in Hope? Your past?”

“Partly. I can’t say it wasn’t nice to be back with my family again. I liked working for the veterinary practice in South Carolina, but when the opportunity came up to buy Doc Weston’s practice here, it seemed like kismet. I could be home again and near my family. I’d missed so much time with them because of Vaughn—because of the choices I’d made. I wanted to be home again.”

“Home is good.”

“Yes, it is. After all the mistakes I’d made, plus all the choices I’d had taken away from me, it felt good to make this decision.”

“You made the right one this time.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, Luke.” It felt good to be validated instead of criticized for a change. He was so . . . different. With him, she felt relaxed, like she could be herself for the first time in a very long time. She didn’t have to try to live up to an image someone had created of her, or be afraid that every step she took or every word she said would be the wrong one.

It was quite the revelation. She had Luke to thank for it, too, because he’d given her the freedom to admit the mistakes she’d made, and hadn’t judged her for them. He accepted her—past and all—and he still wanted to be with her.

He looked damn hot sitting there in the moonlight, his hair so dark and thick she itched to run her fingers through it, his mouth so tempting it physically hurt to know how it felt to brush her lips against his.

And he’d been great to her, really there when she’d needed him.

Like now, offering to listen. Luke was good for her, good for her ego. She needed that right now. Even more than that, she wanted it, wanted him.

There were so many things she wanted, so much she’d denied herself because of that stupid mistake she’d made so long ago.

If she’d had a normal life, she could have a wild weekend fling with Luke and walk away without looking back. She could be free and easy about her sex life without a second thought. Instead, she always second-guessed everything in her life because of the potential consequences. She was always afraid every choice she made would be the wrong one, that every man she chose would be the next one to hurt her as badly as Vaughn had.

But Luke hadn’t hurt her. Not yet, anyway.

Yet every time she saw him, every minute she spent with him, she grew closer to him. And she knew that no matter how hard she tried to downplay her feelings, she knew just that—she had feelings for him.

And that meant he could hurt her. Which scared her more than just a little.

It scared her a lot.

Obviously this brave new Emma wasn’t quite as brave as she thought.

Luke stood, came over to the balcony, and leaned against the railing, not getting too close but close enough that she picked up his scent. It made her want to take a deep breath
so she wouldn’t lose his unique flavor. He always smelled so good, and he never even wore cologne.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, and her skin prickled with goose bumps.

“I think deep inside you’re still a little bit afraid.”

She quirked a brow. “Of?”

“Men. Or maybe just me.”

Her lips lifted, the two shots of whiskey making her feel braver than normal. She placed her palm on his chest, the thump, thump, thump of his heart making her own beat wilder and faster. “Are you trying to offer me some kind of therapy?”

He let out a short laugh. “I’d be the last person to offer to psychoanalyze anyone, Emma. If anyone’s had one hell of a fucked-up life, it’s me. But I know what it’s like to be hurt by someone you care about. And if you want to talk about that, I want you to know you can trust me.”

Her eyes burned with the tears that pricked them. She lifted her gaze to his, seeing the pain that lived in his eyes, too.

He understood. And she could talk to him, lay out her fears, but not now. Not tonight, when there was something else she wanted so much more. She dug her nails into his chest, heard the harsh intake of his breath, and knew right then that she was playing with fire.

She was more than ready to go up in flames, as long as he was with her.

“That’s . . . really nice of you to offer, Luke. But I’m kind of talked out for a while. Wouldn’t you rather kiss me?”

He inched closer, his body vibrating against hers as his hip brushed hers.

“You want me to kiss you. You sure about that?”

She nodded. “Very sure.”

He reached up and swept his thumb across her bottom lip.

“You’re trembling, Emma. Are you cold?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m kind of hot.”

He snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her
against him. His body was hard—all over. She grabbed hold of his shirt like a lifeline, as if she were afraid he’d disappear right in front of her eyes.

And when he slid his other hand across her neck, his breath warm against her cheek, their eyes met in this slow dance of heat and promise.

And still, he paused, his lips only inches from hers.

“Be careful what you ask for, Emma. You might get it.”

“I really hope so, Luke.”

His lips came down on hers, and this time there was no hesitation. She wound her arm around his neck as his mouth invaded hers.

It was always like this with Luke, this dizzying, crazy, make-her-knees-weak kind of kiss. And when his tongue slid inside to tangle with hers, she buckled, and Luke tightened his hold on her, but didn’t break the kiss.

She caressed his shoulders and slid her fingers into his hair, tugging it until he groaned, which only made her nipples tingle. And when he backed her up against the wall of the deck and ground against her, letting her know that he was very much turned on and oh-so-ready to do something about it, her body responded by quivering and dampening in just the right place. If he had a condom on him, they could do it right there on the deck. She was primed for the kind of orgasm she hadn’t had since the last time they were together.

And when he moved his hand from her hip to her waist, lifting her T-shirt, she was all in on this, breaking contact with him just long enough to pull her shirt over her head and toss it on the deck.

His gaze met hers, and he grinned, then pulled off his shirt.

“Wait,” she said.

He frowned. “Is this too fast for you?”

“No. Definitely, no. I just need to look at you.” She gave him a slight push so he’d take a step back.

She took in the sight of him. Well-sculpted shoulders, a wide expanse of chest, and oh, God, those abs. She was
going to have to spend hours exploring his abs. With her tongue.

She took a deep breath, then sighed.

“Are you ogling me?” he asked.

“Maybe a little. Okay, yes. I’ve missed seeing you naked.”

His lips curved. “You’re killing me, Emma.” He moved in and kissed her again, this time laying a very possessive hand on her breast. She gasped, especially when he deftly pulled one side of her bra down to brush a thumb over her nipple. If she came while he did that, it would be so embarrassing. Then again, she might not care, as long as she got a great orgasm out of it.

Except right now she was breathing so fast and so hard she was afraid she might hyperventilate. But the sensations he evoked when he touched her were almost more than she could bear.

His hand drifted down her rib cage, and when he reached her pants, he slipped his hand inside and cupped her sex.

She pulled her lips from his. “Oh, God, yes, please touch me there.”

He met her gaze and moved his hand. “Like that?”

She grasped his wrist, too far gone and close to the edge to even care about how brazen she was being. “Yes. Just like that.”