Page 51 of Unexpected

A blush quickly heated my cheeks when the thought crossed my mind. “Something smells amazing,” I said, frantically trying to move things along and change the direction of my thoughts.

“It’s almost done,” he said before placing his hand lightly on the small of my back and leading me into the kitchen.

“Wine okay?” Luke asked as I took a deep breath, smelling the herbs and spices that filled the spotless kitchen.

“Always,” I said with a smile.

While he popped the bottle and poured two healthy glasses of wine, I peered into the pot on the stove and peeked into the oven.

“We’re having steak, garlic and rosemary potatoes, and this salad that I’ve never made before that I hope turns out at least decent.” He handed me my glass as my mouth watered for the wine and the food.

“That sounds amazing.” I took a large sip of the wine and immediately realized it was much more expensive than the usual ten-dollar bottle I got once—or maybe twice—a week. “Thank you so much for doing this,” I said, waving my free hand around and gesturing to the food and the wine and everything.

“I told you I would,” he said as he threw a few carrots into a large salad bowl and took a generous gulp of his wine.

“Properly celebrated…” I murmured as I glanced around the kitchen and into the living room. The fire was roaring in the fireplace, and there was a ’90s alternative music station quietly playing from the TV. I couldn't help the appreciative smile that creeped across my face at the music selection—also one of my favorites.

“Yes, properly celebrated,” Luke said. I glanced back to find him directly in front of me, the two of us standing between the kitchen island and the sink on the opposite wall. We were close enough that I could almost smell his body wash over the other delectable scents swirling around us.

“Is this your version of how to properly celebrate someone?” I asked, hoping I appeared confident while inside, my heart was beating overtime. I tilted my glass up to my mouth—to give me something else to do besides saying more inane things—and realized my hand was shaking when the glass almost collided with my front teeth.

Luke quirked a dark brow as I held his eyes. His lopsided smile was back in place, and he seemed too laid back with the look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. He looked good in green, but I wished I could see the tattoos hiding beneath his sleeves and along his chest, his stomach.

“Well…” he began and for a moment, I’d forgotten that I had asked a question. “It depends on the person really, but this is a version of celebrating someone, yes.”

I nodded, ready to move on when he continued, “But if I’m being honest, there are…” He paused like he was contemplating his next words then his voice dropped a little lower, “there are other ways I would like to properly celebrate you.”

The innuendo didn’t escape me as he licked his bottom lip, and an insane heat rushed over my neck and face. He watched me for a moment, squirming under his gaze, while I tried to find the right words. But I couldn’t focus on speaking when my mind was overcome with images of what Luke’s version of celebrating me might have looked like. As generous as he had been with his time, and his home, it was easy to imagine that he would also be generous in other ways.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as heat invaded other areas of my body—specifically pulsing between my legs—and I seriously couldn’t focus on much else besides what to do next and the onslaught of dirty, amazing thoughts.

My body had a mind of its own around the tall, burly man in front of me, and much to my surprise, I was not mad about it at all.

The timer on the oven beeped, and Luke turned his attention to it, thus allowing me to take a deep breath and finish off my glass of wine.

Before I could ask, Luke appeared in front of me with the bottle of red and refilled my glass. “Want to come outside while I cook these? It won’t take too long and there’s a heater out there,” he asked, grabbing a tray with two seasoned steaks.

“You have a heater?” I questioned as I followed him outside. Sure enough, there was a heater perfectly placed next to the patio table. I pulled out one of the chairs next to it and was immediately bathed in its warmth.

As Luke put the steaks on the grill—after politely asking me how I would like mine cooked—I took the time to glance around the patio. There was a small gray couch and ottoman in one corner closest to the door, along with a firepit that looked like it had been used often. The entire patio was softly illuminated by the string lights hung on the pergola.

I hadn’t noticed when I escaped out the backyard after being rescued from the bar on my birthday.

“This is one of my favorite places,” Luke said, taking the seat next to me instead of the one across the table and next to the heater. His leg accidentally brushed mine as he sat down, and I hoped it wasn’t the last time he’d touch me that night.

“It is really cozy. I like the lights and the heater makes it bearable even when it’s cold.”

“That’s exactly what I was going for. It seems to be where everyone gathers when they come over, too.”

“Oh, I know.” I cut my eyes at him, catching a glimpse of his sly smile as he chuckled.

“How many times do you think you’ve stormed into one of our parties over the past few years? It has to be over a dozen at this point.”

His voice was light with laughter, and I didn’t sense any hostility, but I still cringed at the reminder of my actions.

“Easily a dozen. God… I was such a bitch.”

Luke tossed his head back and laughed at my comment.

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