Jaci Burton - Hope Flames

“I’m more of a shop-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of guy.”

“You forget important things that way.” She went over and looked into the fridge, then grabbed the pad of paper and pen on the counter and started writing. “Like ketchup, mustard, and mayo. We’ll also need hamburger and hot dogs.”

She looked up at him. “I assume hamburger and hot dogs are okay? And how about some lunchmeat? What’s your favorite?”

He laughed. “You’re doing fine, and I’m not a picky eater. You throw it in front of me, and I’ll eat it.”

“Thank God. Me, too. Picky eaters annoy the crap out of me.”

“Me, too.”

“Chips. What kind of—oh, never mind. I’ll just put the general items on the list. We’ll figure out specifics when we get to the store.”

“Beer.”

She looked up at him, then smiled. “Definitely beer. And pop.”

Luke drove them to a grocery store in Grove, even though it took a while to get there.

“We’ll have a bigger selection this way. If we stayed in the lake area, all you’re going to get is mostly convenience stores.”

“This’ll work fine.” She grabbed a cart and her list, and in a very efficient manner went up and down the aisles, grabbing what they needed and moving on.

She was a fast shopper, didn’t dawdle, and stayed on list. That is, until they got to the bakery, where she pondered the cupcakes.

“These look good. If I’d had more time, I’d have made some myself.”

“You bake?”

She cast him a look. “Yes, I bake. When there’s time. I love to cook.”

“I’m going to keep that in mind and make you show me your skills.”

“You’re on.”

They finished a lot faster than he thought they would. He’d been grocery shopping with women before. Becca used to dawdle, read labels, randomly pick up stuff that wasn’t on her list. It would take hours to finish grocery shopping. It used to drive him crazy.

He and Emma were out of the store in twenty minutes.

As they finished loading the groceries in the truck, he turned to her. “I could kiss you right now.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because you made this so much more bearable than I thought it would be.”

She laughed. “You have some shopping nightmares you’d like to share?”

“No. It’s bad enough I endured them. The last thing I want to do is relive them.”

“You poor baby. Traumatized in the produce aisle.”

He grimaced, remembering how Becca would stare at tomatoes for what seemed like hours. To him, a tomato was a tomato. “You have no idea.”

“I’m going to have to make you a drink tonight and probe this past horror out of you.”

He walked over to his side of the truck. “You can try.”

“Oh, but I am going to ask you to stop at the liquor store next. And I intend to buy whiskey.”

As they climbed into the truck and he started it up, he looked over at her and grinned. “Whiskey, huh? I like the sound of that.”

“Thought you might.”

He stopped at the liquor store, and true to her word, Emma came out with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“A woman after my heart.”

“Hey, go get your own bottle. This one’s mine.”

“You wouldn’t share?”

She stared down at the bottle. “Well, it is a pretty big bottle. So . . . maybe. It depends on whether I can pry any secrets out of you with whiskey.”

He laughed as he pulled out onto the main road. “Darlin’, I’m a big keeper of secrets. Not much for revealing any.”

“Too bad. This is really good whiskey.”

The more time he spent with Emma, the more he liked her.

Every time he was with her, he drew one step closer to her. And protecting his heart lost the battle a little more.

He didn’t want a relationship, but damned if he didn’t feel like he was smack in the middle of one with Emma. Out of control and going down for the count.

He wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not.

BY THE TIME they got back from the store it was getting late, so they unpacked groceries, let the dogs out for a short run, then came back in and fixed sandwiches and chips for dinner.

Emma couldn’t recall having a more relaxed night. Luke was fun, had a great sense of humor, and she no longer felt skittish or uncomfortable.

He knew all her secrets, hadn’t run, hadn’t judged her, and for some reason he liked being around her. He didn’t tell her what to do, and he seemed to enjoy her independence.

This was a refreshing, new relation—

No . . . it was just a right-now kind of thing. But whatever it was, she intended to enjoy it.

“Do you like to water-ski?” Luke asked as they were cleaning up the dishes.

Emma paused, her hands shoved in the soapy water. “I don’t know. I’ve never done it before.”

“You grew up around all these lakes and you never water-skied?”

“I know. I lived such a sheltered life. I guess I was too busy hitting the books to have a social life.”

He tilted his head down and gave her a look. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“You’re too pretty not to have had a social life.”

“I’ll accept the compliment, thank you, but in high school my hair was frizzy, I had bad acne, and I wore braces until I was seventeen. It wasn’t a pretty picture, and boys weren’t interested.”

“Obviously they were morons not to see through the hair, pimples, and braces to the beautiful young girl you were underneath.”

She looked at him. “Do you always say just the right thing?”

He laughed. “No. Usually never.”

“Well, you just did. Thank you.”

“And tomorrow you water-ski. We’ll head out early in the morning on the boat.”

Water-skiing sounded exciting. Another new adventure.

“How about a look at the night view on the back deck upstairs?” Luke asked.

“Sure.” She grabbed two glasses and the bottle of whiskey.

Luke gave her that mysterious but oh-so-sexy smile that sent her nerve endings skittering in all those questioning directions. This weekend, she decided she wasn’t going to question anything. She’d just let things develop and see where they went.

The deck was located at the end of the hall, nice because it wasn’t outside either of the bedrooms.

The sun had barely set, which meant a dusky glow still lingered over the lake. The wind had died down. Emma couldn’t hear a thing except the sounds of nature. Tall trees blanketed her on all sides, their scents cool and fragrant.

She set the bottle and glasses down on the table between their two chairs and stared out over the water. No one was boating right now, so the lake was a mirror. She felt like she could walk right out and slide across it.

“This is beautiful. So serene, so quiet.” She leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the crickets.

“Easy to lose your sense of time and place out here,” Luke said, his voice lowering.

“Understandable. The real world is so far removed. All the stress is gone. No bills to pay, no work to do, nothing but utter relaxation. It’s a fantasy.”

She opened her eyes to find Luke’s gaze fixed on the lake. For some reason, she liked that he wasn’t looking at her.

“How about that whiskey?”

He turned to face her.

“What? You’re not going to pry secrets out of me first?”

She opened the bottle, poured two shots. “I think if you want to divulge any secrets to me, you’ll do that in your own time.”

“I might just do that. Eventually.”

She handed him a glass. “To a good weekend.”

He lifted his glass and tipped it against hers. “I’ll definitely drink to that.”

He downed his shot, and she downed hers, too, the fiery liquid burning its way down her throat. “Whoa. That’s good.”

Luke laid his glass down. “You surprise the hell out of me, Emma.”

“I do? In what way?”

“Sometimes you seem so quiet and shy. Almost as if you’re afraid of me. Other times, you’re like a saucy little flirt. I just can’t figure you out.”

She leaned back in the chair. “Good. I’d hate to be boring and predictable.”

“You’re definitely not either of those things.” He poured another shot and handed it to her.

She took it and downed the shot, then placed the glass on the table.

“Like this.”

She turned to him again. “Like what?”

“You. Doing whiskey shots. I would never have guessed you to be a whiskey drinker. More like the fine-wine type.”

She laughed. “I don’t know whether to be complimented or insulted. But I do like wine, too. Both out of the box and the kind you use a corkscrew to open.”

“See? Again . . . unpredictable.”

Her lips curved.

“You like being mysterious?” he asked.

“Not really. I just don’t want to be . . .”

“Want to be what?” he asked when she didn’t finish her sentence.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just who I am, Luke. I don’t try to be anything else.” She got up and went to the balcony, looking out over the water, her emotions jumbled up inside.

She finally turned so she could face him. “We’re all a product of our pasts. That’s what shapes the choices we make, for good or bad.”

“Is that how you ended up back in Hope? Your past?”

“Partly. I can’t say it wasn’t nice to be back with my family again. I liked working for the veterinary practice in South Carolina, but when the opportunity came up to buy Doc Weston’s practice here, it seemed like kismet. I could be home again and near my family. I’d missed so much time with them because of Vaughn—because of the choices I’d made. I wanted to be home again.”

“Home is good.”

“Yes, it is. After all the mistakes I’d made, plus all the choices I’d had taken away from me, it felt good to make this decision.”

“You made the right one this time.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, Luke.” It felt good to be validated instead of criticized for a change. He was so . . . different. With him, she felt relaxed, like she could be herself for the first time in a very long time. She didn’t have to try to live up to an image someone had created of her, or be afraid that every step she took or every word she said would be the wrong one.

It was quite the revelation. She had Luke to thank for it, too, because he’d given her the freedom to admit the mistakes she’d made, and hadn’t judged her for them. He accepted her—past and all—and he still wanted to be with her.

He looked damn hot sitting there in the moonlight, his hair so dark and thick she itched to run her fingers through it, his mouth so tempting it physically hurt to know how it felt to brush her lips against his.

And he’d been great to her, really there when she’d needed him.

Like now, offering to listen. Luke was good for her, good for her ego. She needed that right now. Even more than that, she wanted it, wanted him.

There were so many things she wanted, so much she’d denied herself because of that stupid mistake she’d made so long ago.

If she’d had a normal life, she could have a wild weekend fling with Luke and walk away without looking back. She could be free and easy about her sex life without a second thought. Instead, she always second-guessed everything in her life because of the potential consequences. She was always afraid every choice she made would be the wrong one, that every man she chose would be the next one to hurt her as badly as Vaughn had.

But Luke hadn’t hurt her. Not yet, anyway.

Yet every time she saw him, every minute she spent with him, she grew closer to him. And she knew that no matter how hard she tried to downplay her feelings, she knew just that—she had feelings for him.

And that meant he could hurt her. Which scared her more than just a little.

It scared her a lot.

Obviously this brave new Emma wasn’t quite as brave as she thought.

Luke stood, came over to the balcony, and leaned against the railing, not getting too close but close enough that she picked up his scent. It made her want to take a deep breath so she wouldn’t lose his unique flavor. He always smelled so good, and he never even wore cologne.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, and her skin prickled with goose bumps.

“I think deep inside you’re still a little bit afraid.”

She quirked a brow. “Of?”

“Men. Or maybe just me.”

Her lips lifted, the two shots of whiskey making her feel braver than normal. She placed her palm on his chest, the thump, thump, thump of his heart making her own beat wilder and faster. “Are you trying to offer me some kind of therapy?”