My hunky, crazy baby daddy, that’s who.Engulfed by the heat, I crossed the busy street with its rushing cars and tinkling bike bells.The walk to my office was long enough that I would break into a sweat, but I needed the time to clear my head.
All these months after departing, I still missed the Houston summer.Houston was home; it was where Ida Jane was digging in roots.It’s where my mother was buried, where Luka lived…
I gnawed on my lip, trying to process what his actions told me, what Iwantedto believe they said.
I wanted him here because he missed me.Because he cared about me.
Because he wants a future withme.
I admitted my truth, and it left me lightheaded, my legs shaking as if I’d just completed an hour of jiu jitsu.I couldn’t do much sparring now, but I’d tried to keep up with the drills so my technique and muscle memory stayed sharp.
I sucked in a breath, struggling to shove down the butterflies in my belly at the mere thought of Luka Stol.He was even more of a presence in person.I’d forgotten the sexy punch he packed.I placed my hand on a wall and breathed for a moment.
Stop it.Men betray your trust.You know that.You lived it and have struggled to recover from the fallout.
That’s why I was in Sri Lanka.My father’s cavalier attitude after Trent’s treatment of me had cut so damn deep, though it shouldn’t have surprised me.Chasten Jones wasn’t an emotive man.He didn’t hug, nor had he sat with me through the early bouts of grief when my mother died.
Maybe that’s why I yearned to believe in Luka—not just with my baby and my future, but with my heart.I’d been desperate to share it for more than a decade.
The day passedwith the tortuous slowness of a last day of elementary school before summer break.Each time I looked at the clock, I groaned to realize just minutes had passed.I couldn’t focus on my data, and I had to redo my math equations multiple times because I kept daydreaming about a certain hockey player.
Thankfully, I’d set my team up with their assignments yesterday, so few of them needed any direction.I wouldn’t have been capable of providing it.
The moment the clock struck the end of the workday, I rose from my seat and walked down to the car I’d ordered.I arrived home in less than five minutes, breathless, unsure, excited…
I tiptoed to the door of my condo because part of me expected it to be empty, for Luka’s sudden arrival to end with an equally sudden departure.Instead, I opened the door to a blast of delicious smells and cool air.
“What…” I began.
Luka strode toward me, gorgeous and intimidating in his T-shirt and low-slung jeans.He was barefoot—his toes long and elegant.His hair was disheveled, as if he’d spent the day running his fingers through it, and he had a couple of stains on his gray, V-neck T-shirt.
“I’m making you dinner, so we don’t have to go out tonight.You know, because you get tired…” He trailed off and peered at me.“Unless you’d rather go out?”
I licked my lower lip, frozen with my messenger bag in my hand and the door to my place still open.
“You…”
He eased around me and shut the door.Then he took my bag and set it on the couch.I just stood there, staring at him.Luka had short-circuited my brain.That ability would annoy me if I wasn’t so touched by the gesture.
He made me dinner.
No man had ever cooked for me—not my father nor Trent.It was such a simple thing, cooking.Providing sustenance for another person.
“Are you all right?”he asked.
I fell against his chest and struggled to hold back tears.I would not cry, not over something as mundane as a meal.He couldn’t know what a huge deal this was.I wouldn’t break down…
I shed a few tears into the stained cotton of his shirt.“Thank you.”My voice warbled.I cleared my throat and lifted my cheek from his chest.His concern was palpable.I needed to be honest.“No one’s ever made me dinner.Well, besides my mother, occasionally, and Ida Jane, but you get what I’m saying.”
“Ahhhh.”The worry in his expression waned a little.“Well, I’m not as good a cook as Ida Jane, so keep that in mind.”
I snuggled against his chest, reveling in the warmth of his arms around me.This.I’d craved this intimacy, fantasized about it with an intensity that frightened me.I’dneverimagined that Luka would want to share such moments with me.I took a deep breath as I silently admitted my mistake.
I’d expected Luka to treat me like Trent and my father had.Because my father had made me out to be a simpleton whose only purpose was to have the man of his choosing’s babies, when he wanted them.Therefore Luka, who didn’t love me and who was known for short flings, must see me the same way.Right?
I’d carved Luka out of my life before I even gave us a shot.I’d pre-judged him based on other people’s commentary, and on my painful past.That realization was particularly difficult to swallow.
Luka’s reputation came from fans, both ardent admirers and jilted women he’d brushed off.People who didn’t know him well.People who made assumptions about him, like I had.
