“That’s smart. My mom used to do that when all of us kids lived at home.” Luke saved Noah from further embarrassment. “Eli, why don’t you help your dad get supper on the table while I wash my hands? I’ve been at a construction site all day, so I’m really dirty.”
Noah should’ve been upset about Luke taking control the way he had, but he wasn’t. Instead, he felt warmth bubbling in his chest that absolutely should not have been there.
CHAPTER SIX
Luke couldn’t rememberthe last time he’d sat down to a proper home-cooked dinner. Sure, he showed up at his parents’ place most Sundays, and yeah, sometimes he grabbed a bite with his sisters and their families, but this was different. Noah moved around the kitchen with practiced efficiency, pulling plates from cabinets Luke knew needed to be replaced and silverware from drawers that stuck. Eli chattered about his day, setting the table with only minor corrections from his dad about which side the fork belonged on.
It felt disturbingly…right. He didn’t feel like an intruder in their family routines. And Luke looked forward to enjoying a meal he didn’t eat while leaning over the kitchen counter.
“Mr. Luke, do you want to sit by me?” Eli patted the chair next to his, practically vibrating with excitement. “I made us a bigger disaster map!”
“Eli.” Noah’s steady voice held an edge of warning. “Remember what we talked about? Let Luke eat before you bombard him with house stuff.”
Luke waved off Noah’s concern, settling into the offered chair. “It’s fine. I like his enthusiasm.” He really did, which was part of the problem. Usually, kids got on his nerves after about five minutes. Even Megan’s kids wore his patience thin after some time, though he’d never admit that to his sister. But something about Eli’s earnest interest and quick mind drew Luke in. “Though your dad’s right—that lasagna smells too good to let it get cold.”
Noah set a massive dish on the table, and Luke’s mouth watered. Between the rich aroma of tomato sauce and herbs and the way Noah’s rolled-up sleeves revealed surprisingly muscular forearms, Luke was having trouble remembering why getting close to them was a bad idea. It was way too easy to imagine what it would be like for this to be routine.
“I really should find a way to prep smaller batches. We’ll be eating off this for the next few days,” Noah said, sliding into his own chair. “Hazard of cooking for a growing boy, I guess.”
“Dad makes the best lasagna,” Eli announced, bouncing slightly in his seat.
The lasagna was perfect—layers of pasta, meat, and cheese balanced perfectly, and the edges were crispy without being burned. Luke tried not to notice how Noah cut Eli’s portion into manageable bites, the way his throat worked as he sipped his water, or how the kitchen’s warm light caught golden highlights in his hair.
Shit. This was exactly what Keaton had warned him about. He was totally crushing on his sisters’ friend.
“Luke?” Noah’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just…” Luke gestured vaguely with his fork. “Trying to figure out where you learned to cook like this. Pretty sure when you were hanging out with my sisters, you lived on Ramen and pizza rolls.”
Noah’s laugh was surprising and genuine. “Let’s just say necessity is the mother of invention. When Eli started eating solid food, I realized I needed to step up my game. Jenna handled a lot of the cooking, but I didn’t want her having to do all the cooking when she was still in grad school.”
“Step up is an understatement.” Luke took another bite, definitely not watching how Noah’s expression softened when he looked at his son. “This is seriously good.”
“Thanks.” A slight flush colored Noah’s cheeks. “It’s nothing special, really. Just trial and error until I found what works.”
Like everything about this house, Luke thought. But he kept that observation to himself, focusing instead on his food and trying not to notice how perfectly Noah fit in this kitchen, even with its ancient appliances and stubborn drawers. Or how easy it would be to imagine more dinners like this, with updated cabinets and counters that didn’t slope toward the back wall and?—
Nope. Not going there.
“Can I show you the map now?” Eli asked around a mouthful of garlic bread. “I added treasure spots!”
“Eli, chew first.” But Noah’s admonishment held no heat, only fond exasperation. “And remember what we talked about? Luke’s here to discuss the repairs, not?—”
“It’s fine,” Luke interrupted, probably too quickly. “I always say the best contractors listen to everyone’s input. Even treasure hunters.”
Eli beamed, and Noah’s expression did something complicated Luke refused to analyze. This was just dinner. Business. A favor for Rachel that was rapidly spinning out of control.
Luke took another bite of lasagna, letting Eli’s chatter wash over him. He could handle this. He was a professional, after all. And if his stomach flipped while watching Noah and Eli’s easy interaction, well, that was just indigestion.
Probably.
“See?” As soon as he finished eating and was excused, Eli darted up the stairs, returning with a stack of white paper. Eli spread the disaster map across the empty space on the table, nearly knocking over his water glass in his enthusiasm. “The red X’s are still emergency spots, but I added blue circles for the weird noises and green stars for where we might find old stuff in the walls!”
Luke leaned closer, genuinely impressed by the detail. The kid had even added little notes in careful printing, things likenoisy step #3andwindow makes wistel sounds. More words were misspelled than correct, which only added to the charm. Some of it was useful information—the kind of details that might have taken Luke weeks to notice. Eli was obviously taking his job very seriously.
“This is great work, buddy.” Luke pointed to a cluster of blue circles. “Those noises in the walls—do they happen mostly at night?”
“Yeah! Dad says it’s just the pipes, but I think it might be ghosts.” Eli’s eyes widened. “Do you know about ghosts, Mr. Luke? Tommy says old houses are full of them.”
