“Awww, that’s so sweet of you to say that!”
“Well, it’s true. She’s cool, ya know? Not like most girls…”
“Well, thing is,” Charleigh says, then dips her head toward his and lowers her voice so much that she’s certain Ethan and Jackson can’t hear her, “I know itseemslike she has a boyfriend.”
Confusions ripples across Luke’s face. This is obviously not the turn he expected the conversation to take. Shit, why did shethink she could talk to a teenage boy? Why is she even talking to him in the first place? Meddling.
“Uh-huh—” he mumbles, fumbling with his hands.
“Well, forget about all that.” Charleigh bats her perfectly manicured hand in front of her as if she’s sweeping away a mess. “What I’m trying to say is that you seem like a nice boy—”
Luke shoots her a look that says,Yeah, right, lady.
“And so, I dunno, maybe you could take her out sometime?”
He raises his eyebrows at her.
“Like on a date—”
He sinks his hands into his pockets, studies the sawdusted floor. “I didn’t mean to give the wrong impression. Nellie’s cool and all, but…and, she may or may not have a boyfriend, but…” He practically whispers this next part. “I have a girlfriend.”
“Ahhh!” Charleigh says too loudly. “I see!”
Nellie will die if she ever finds out I had this conversation.
“Can you do me a favor?”
Luke nods.
“Can you never say a word about what I just said? I’m just a big old idiot. You see, most people don’t like my daughter.” By God, she’s making this so much worse. “And so, when I come across someone who actually does, I dunno—”
Luke’s looking at her as if she needs to be committed. Also, and this is much worse, as if he’s wary of her. “This’ll stay between us, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She twists around to leave but stops. Spins back around. “Your girlfriend local?”
He scoffs, twists his hands inside his pockets. “Yep.”
She’s crossed the line again. “Well, that’s so wonderful!”Is it that little bitch Blair?she wants to ask.
“Well, hello, Mrs. Andersen!” Ethan’s honeyed voice glides over to her ears.
Grateful for the intrusion, she plods away from Luke.
“Howdy, Ethan.”
He gives her that crooked smile like he did the other day when she was out here, a smile that seems to say,I can tell how you look with your clothes off, and I like what I see.
“You reconsidered?” He cocks his head to one side.
“Excuse me?”
“Having me design you something. Build you a piece—”
His smell—woodsy, zesty—fills Charleigh’s nostrils. Despite how much she hates this family, good Lord, he is sexy. Sexual. Dripping with it. Maybe Abigail’s potions are the only reason he hasn’t strayed from her, because she’s so god-awful by comparison.
“Jackson here,” he says, clapping Jackson on the back, “can vouch for how good I am.”
Why does everything he say sound filthy? Sexually charged?
