Luke sat there a moment, speechless. When he recovered, he turned her so that she faced him, his hands on her knees. “Let’s make a pact right now.”
“What kind of pact?”
“No matter what happens to us, we are friends, and you are a part of the Walker family. Nothing is going to keep you from Lauren, or from us. You understand?”
Her eyes immediately glossed over with tears. “Luke-”
He brushed his lips over hers. “I’m serious, Julie. No matter what, you have me.” He wiped a tear as it escaped down her cheek. “Let’s get Cici and your stuff and go to my place where I know you’re safe.”
“You want to take Cici with us?”
“She’s your family,” he said. “So yes. I want to take Cici.”
“That means a litter box,” she reminded him.
“You mean she isn’t toilet trained?”
She laughed. ”Oh how I wish.”
She wasn’t arguing and that said she was really rattled, or he was getting through to her. Or maybe, just maybe, it was both. Either way, Luke was getting them out of here before she changed her mind. Because not only was he feeling the very male need to have her in his bed, he was far more disturbed by that journal than he’d let on.
***
She’d grocery shopped with Luke.
Julie stood in his kitchen, in soft cotton pink sweats, a Victoria Secrets ‘Pink ’ T-shirt, and fuzzy pink slippers, dicing tomatoes for a salad. She was out of her personal space, her zone, and yet she felt oddly at peace.
Julie cut her gaze to the side and smiled as she watched Luke stirring the spaghetti sauce barely a foot away from her, throwing in various spices here and there as if it were a science. She decided right then that there was something about a man who could handle a gun and a spatula.
Looking down as she heard a soft purr Julie realized that Cici was once again wrapping herself around Luke’s feet, but he didn’t seem to mind so she didn’t say anything. The cat loved Luke. Her chest tightened. Love. God. Was she falling in love with Luke? Had she already?
He tasted the sauce. “Love it.”
“What?” Julie asked, jolted by his words.
“The sauce is exactly the way my mother makes it,” he said.
“Oh,” she said, sighing in relief. “And you only had to call her three times.”
He grinned. He was so handsome when he grinned like that. “She loves it when I call her.”
“She was in a movie.”
He shrugged. “She didn’t mind.”
She arched a brow. “You mean you didn’t mind interrupting her date.”
“If he can’t take the good with the bad, he shouldn’t be around.”
“That’s evil, Luke.”
“Testing his patience is part of being sure he’s in this for the long haul.”
She shook her head and resumed chopping. “Dating is hard enough, Luke.”
“Says you?” he asked.
“ Says everyone,” she said flatly. “Which is why I don’t do it.”
“What do you mean exactly by that?”
She flicked him a quick glance, and shrugged. “I just don’t do it.”
“At all?”
She didn’t look at him. “That pretty much sums it up.”
He couldn’t help asking, “What about sex?”
She stopped chopping. “What about it?”
He gave her a knowing look. “You like it.”
She laughed, but without humor. “So do you.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
She started chopping again. “What was the question?”
“If you don’t date, what do you do about sex?”
“Not much since you left,” she said, so appalled she’d admitted that that her hand slipped on the knife handle, and she cut her finger. Blood immediately poured from the sliced skin. “Ouch.” She rushed her hand to the sink.
Luke grabbed her wrist and turned on the water. “It looks pretty deep.”
“Fingers bleed a lot and I’m fine, really.”
He turned off the water. “We need to bandage it.” He pulled her gently along until they reached the bathroom and ordered, “Sit and hold the towel snug until I get the supplies.”
She did as he instructed as he rummaged through the medicine chest and pulled out what he wanted. Kneeling at her feet he checked the cut. “A little deeper and you would have needed stitches for sure, but I think you'll manage to skate by without them.”
“Good,” she said. “An evening in the ER would not be fun.” Would he have gone with her? Had she ever had anyone but Lauren who would have? She watched him doctoring her finger, thinking about how different he was or maybe how different she was because of him. When he’d almost finished, she reached out and threaded her fingers through the silky black strands of his hair. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
He stopped working, studying her with such intensity she felt like he could see clear to her soul. She wanted to look away, and yet she didn’t.
“Someone has to,” he said finally.
His words warmed her, thrilled her, and she fought to remember why Luke taking care of her was a bad thing. To say that she felt confused was an understatement.
“I get by on my own pretty well, but still, it’s nice to have you help me tonight.”
“If tonight is all you’ll give me,” he said after a long pause, “it’s a start and I’ll take it.”