“Hello, sweetheart.” A woman with a pixie cut and a soft pink sweater stepped forward to kiss Luke on the cheek. “We were just checking out a squeak in the floor.”
“The one that’s been there for twenty years?”
The woman ignored him and held her hands out to Harper. “You must be Harper. Since my son’s manners seem to have deserted him, I’m his mother, Claire. This is Luke’s dad, Charlie,” she said gesturing to the tall, silver-haired man at the back of the pack. Charlie raised a hand in a silent greeting.
“Our youngest son, James,” Claire continued, pointing at a slightly younger, leaner version of Luke who was making short work of an apple. He winked at her.
“Sophie, you know,” Claire put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and Harper was struck by their resemblance. All dark hair and olive tones. “And this is her husband, Ty Adler, and their little one, Josh.”
“Nice to see you again, Slugger,” Ty, in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans instead of his deputy’s uniform, said while tickling the mini me toddler on his shoulders.
“This is Uncle Stu and Aunt Syl,” Claire said, waving at the mustached man Luke had pointed out at Remo’s last night and his smiling, lanky wife. “And I think that takes care of the introductions.”
“Hi, um, everyone,” Harper said, waving awkwardly. “I’m Harper.”
“Hi Harper,” they answered in unison.
Luke sighed and took Harper’s hand, leading her through the throng. The floor did, in fact squeak under her foot.
“Smells good in here, Ma. What’s for lunch?”
The crowd filed into the spacious kitchen behind them. Something bubbled away on the granite island’s range. Claire slapped Luke’s hand away from the glass candy dish.
“Pot roast with mashed potatoes and roasted root vegetables. We’ll be ready in about half an hour. So why don’t you give Harper the grand tour and get out of my way? Harper, can I get you a glass of wine?”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Garrison. But I really would like that tour.”
“It’s Claire, please. And you two go ahead. We’ll call you when lunch is ready.”
“You’re finally going to let me have a girl in my room? It’s about time.” Luke put his hands on Harper’s shoulders and pushed her back down the hallway.
“Sorry,” he whispered in her ear.
She enjoyed the tickle of his breath against her skin. “That was only a little awkward.”
“Awkward and suffocating.” He guided her towards the stairs.
The farmhouse was laid out in a simple four-square formation on the first floor with the two rooms on the right opening into each other to create one large gathering room. Pictures plastered the walls and flat surfaces and there was a mixture of antiques and modern amenities. It was homey.
His hands slid to her hips as she started to climb the stairs. She leaned back against his chest as they ascended.
“If this is too much, tell me,” he said. “Soph said to sell it.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, her pulse jumping.
The stairs opened up into a wide hallway of sorts with a window seat built over short bookcases. “What a great way to use this space!” Harper leaned down to get a closer look. The shelves were stuffed with paperbacks and photo albums, each neatly labeled with a year range or name.
Luke stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Dad and I built this years ago after Mom ran out of room in the den.”
“Can I look at Luke One?” Harper fingered the spine of a navy blue linen album.
“Uh. Sure,” he said unenthusiastically.
Harper didn’t wait for him to change his mind. She plopped down on the thick cushion of the window seat and began to page through. “You were pretty adorable as a toddler.” She peered at a picture of three-year-old Luke trying to put on his father’s tool belt, grinning with pride.
He sat down next to her and grimaced. “Why don’t we look at Soph’s album —”
“Don’t even think about it, Handysome.”
