“You’re so dramatic,” I grumble. “And no, I don’t get ice cream with anyone except you.” I stop, pull back, and lift a brow when our eyes meet. “Though I’d like it on record that you’ve yet to ask me out for ice cream.”
He grunts. “Saturday. I promise.”
“And no, Sonia will be his friend. His professional friend, who is paid for her time. She won’t get ice cream with him either, but she will talk with him, she’ll try to help him through whatever he’s got going on.”
“Which is?” he prods. “What’s he got going on?”
Thoughts of a young couple flash through my mind. Young love, parades, and picketing rallies. Politics, and women’s rights. Fast happiness, and slow pain. But then I shake my head. “I absolutely cannot discuss that with you, and you know it. But I can say that he’s in this town on legitimate business, and he’s seeing Sonia with legitimate reason. That’s as far as it has to go with you.”
“And I trust?”
“Yes. You put aside your inane obsession with flexing your biceps and wanting to be the best fighter in the room, and then you smile and stop trying to put me on a pedestal. You know I won’t stay there anyway.”
“Fuckin’ independent women.” He makes the finger quotes around ‘independent’, and huffs like he’s not afraid of dying. “Why couldn’t I find myself a quiet little lamb who wants to wait on me twenty-four-seven?”
“Well, first of all, that was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard you say… and that’s a pretty big deal, considering who I’m speaking to. And second, she would bore you, and you know it. So stop being a caveman, and chill the hell out.” I step up onto my toes and press a kiss to his lips. “And since we’re on the subject, I’m probably going to base my final paper around Jason.”
“What?!” Just as I expected, Luke blows up. “No you’re not.”
“Yes,” I try to swallow down my laughter, I swear I do. “I am. The things he spoke about in session yesterday struck a chord with me.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is enchanting,” he growls. “He was fucking enchanting.”
“He was passionate about someone he loved and lost,” I counter and violate the very thing I, as a therapist, swore I would never do. Confidentiality is paramount in this job, and here I am, spouting secrets off to my jealous boyfriend. “He loved someone deeply, Luke. He still loves her, and he still longs for her. The story he has to tell is intriguing, and the side avenues to which his storytelling veers are entertaining. It’s not two-dimensional. It’s vivid and wild and loving and passionate, and I think it’s kind of special that I was here, in this town, in Sonia’s office when he walked in.”
Luke growls, so an actual rumble moves through his chest. “I think he’s a scam artist who got a look at the beautiful woman with dark red hair.”
I tilt my head and smile. “You mean like how you saw me at the bakery?”
“Exactly! And look what happened; we fucked, and I fell in love like a punk.”
“Such a punk,” I tease. “He’s in love with someone else, I assure you of that. And I think he’s just possibly arrogant enough to want to annoy you. You give him a reaction every single time you’re in the same space. What he discusses in therapy and what he does when you’re around, I think, are entirely unrelated. But again, that’s another layer for my paper, right?”
“You’re mine, right?” Luke’s eyes flicker between mine and sparkle with uncertainty. “Remember that thing I said about vulnerability, and wanting hugs, and there was also that thing about cavemen and that time my father fought another dude for no reason?”
Luke Hart is beautiful when he’s vulnerable. Sexy when he lays his truths out so visibly for everyone to see. “Well…” I hesitate. “Depends. Are you gonna ask me out for ice cream on Saturday?”
His lips twitch with a ghost of a smile. “Yes.”
“Then I guess I’m gonna ride this out at least till then. I’ll observe which ice cream you choose for yourself, then I’ll add more data to my Luke Hart analysis.”
“I bet it’s enchanting as fuck.” His gaze narrows. “Why aren’t you writing about me, huh? The fuck is up with that? Am I not enchanting enough for you?”
I shake my head and take a step away from the perpetually childish man in front of me. “How about I make you a deal? I go in there and ask Jason if he wants a relationship, then I can write about you. Switch it up.”
“Not funny,” he grumbles.
“Well, in this arrangement, which option would you prefer? The analysis, or the sex?”
He’s like a toddler. Popped bottom lip, scowling gaze. “Sex.”
“Exactly. So stop being a brat, and go to work. You’re already late.”
“You heading to the office now?” Luke takes the keys from his pocket, but he doesn’t step closer to his truck. Instead, he watches me. “No time for iced coffee?”
I shrug and take another step back. I’m running out of time, and I can’t be late to work. “Darcy knows my order now, so I don’t even have to line up and wait. She just makes it and sets it on the counter.”
“Wow,” he grumbles. “I still have to order.”
“You’re just full of petty whining today, huh? Even after a whole night of sex.”
“Some men just can’t be pleased.” He flashes a wide grin and finally turns to unlock and open his door. “I’ll text you when I get a free minute.”
“And I’ll bring the picnic for tonight. I’ll come down around six.”
“Works for me. I’ll be the hot guy with no shirt.”
I smile and try for one last swipe at that fragile ego. “Is Rob gonna be there?”
Luke swings around with a menacing snarl. “I’m gonna kick your fucking ass, Allyson Moore.”
Throwing my head back and laughing, I walk away from the truck and toward the street surrounding the hotel parking lot.
I have a car here, but with Sonia’s being so close, and my coffee stop at the midpoint, there’s no real need to drive it to work unless it’s a rainy day. Perhaps, as winter draws closer and the temperatures drop, I’ll start driving more. But for as long as the weather is the way it is today, I’m going to enjoy the stroll, and soak up the sun’s rays.
“Goodbye, Luke. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I love you!” He shouts it loud and obnoxious, so it’s more of a shove in the back than a gentle hug. “Allyson Moore, I fuckin’ love you!”
I spin and walk backwards. “Wow. Thanks.”
Gritting his teeth, Luke claps his hands together – not applause, but threat. He’s going to spank me and make me sorry for not saying it back. And though I could do as he asks, I could return the sentiment and give him something he so desperately wants, the words remain lodged in my throat.
But that’s not the excuse I give myself. No, I tell myself that the thought of being spanked tonight, thrust after thrust while he declares his love over and over again, is too tempting to throw away.