Come Home with Me

by Susan Fox

  “She talks about books because you see her in the bookstore,” Annie said. “When people visit your clinic, all you talk about is animals.”

  “If you took her for lunch,” his mother suggested, “you might find you have lots in common.”

  “Ladies, I’m twenty-eight. If I want to ask a woman out, I’ll do it.”

  “Aren’t you sexually attracted to Iris?” Annie asked.

  Luke dropped his head into his hands. He was used to his mother-in-law’s frankness and usually appreciated it, but sometimes she could be way too blunt. “This topic is officially closed. Let’s clear the table and organize dessert.”

  But, as he packaged up leftovers in the kitchen, he thought about Iris. She was beautiful and efficient, and seemed smart and nice. His mother was right, that he had no idea what interests and values they might share. If what he’d been reflecting on earlier was correct, that liking and friendship could over time grow into passionate love, why might that not happen with Iris? And yet he felt no desire to date her.

  And yeah, though he had no intention of confessing it in this company, he was definitely sexually attracted to Miranda.

  Still, as much as he hated to admit it, his mom and Annie might have a point. If a woman was going to hang out with his boys, he had to ensure she was totally trustworthy. Was Miranda?

  Chapter Seven

  It was the last day of February, and more than two weeks had passed since Miranda had last seen Luke. He’d said he had a good time and suggested they do it again. But he hadn’t called.

  True, Ariana had thrown a TTT when Miranda had told her she had to leave the sandcastle, which by then had been inhabited by a colony of fairies. But her daughter’s tantrums hadn’t discouraged Luke before, so what was the problem?

  How ridiculous, Miranda thought as she restocked the shelves at Blowing Bubbles that Tuesday afternoon. Why was she obsessing over this? She, who had no interest in dating, much less in dating Luke, who wasn’t her type. Although she had to admit that she’d spent far too much time gazing at pictures on the screen of her phone, especially one close-up with great lighting on his handsome face.

  “I thought we were becoming friends,” she murmured under her breath. “He said that. He wanted it.” And he’d got her starting to believe it, he’d made her enjoy his company and feel close to him, and then he hadn’t called.

  Pissed off at herself, she gently put her armful of stuffed Bambis and orcas on the shelf, and gave herself a whack upside the head. “What century is this?” She was a feminist. She’d spent her life trying to be strong and independent. And now she was fluttering about all helpless and sad because some freaking guy hadn’t phoned her. “Ridiculous! Pick up the damned phone!”

  “Pardon?” her boss Kara called from behind the counter.

  “Sorry. Talking to myself.”

  Miranda got back to restocking, and at the end of the work day drove herself and Ariana home to the cozy log cabin at SkySong and made them a chicken and veggie stir-fry. Then, when the dishes were done and Ariana was settled with a couple of favorite toys, Miranda picked up her phone and dialed Luke’s number.

  After the usual “hey, how are you” exchange, she said, “Thanks again for sundaes on Sunday, and sharing your beach. I wonder if I could return the favor and have you and the boys over for a pizza-building dinner one night.”

  He didn’t respond, and she said breezily, “But if you’d rather not, I totally—”

  He stopped her by saying, “It sounds good. Really. Thank you.”

  She refused to second-guess whether he meant it, or to ponder the little thrill that coursed through her. “Oh good. Great. What night works for you?”

  “How about tomorrow? The boys and I were going to Mom and Forbes’s place, but she’s got a bad cold so that’s off. And I don’t feel like cooking.”

  “Tomorrow’s good.” Really good, because she wasn’t working. She’d have plenty of time to clean and tidy, shop for ingredients, prepare pizza dough, and still do some coursework.

  As she put down the phone, she pondered the fact that he’d chosen tomorrow. It suggested he was telling the truth about wanting to get together. Which was a good thing. Right?

  * * *

  This was the first time Miranda’d had anyone other than her brother, Eden, or Eden’s relatives over to the one-bedroom cabin. Despite the fact that the entire place would almost fit into Luke’s living room, and that she didn’t own it or even pay rent, Miranda felt proud of her small home as she opened the door to greet Luke and his sons.

  The boys roared inside, shedding raindrops, and Luke followed. “Nice place,” he commented, handing her a paper bag and then grabbing his sons long enough to pull off their rain jackets, which he hung on the coat hooks by the door.

  She glanced in the bag, to see a bottle of wine. “Thanks for this. And yes, we like the cabin.” Except for Aaron’s house, it was the nicest place she and her daughter had ever lived. The décor was rustic, and Di’s deft, eclectic touch made it something distinctive. Most of the artwork, which featured ceramics, carvings, paintings, photographs, and weavings, had been created by island artists and artisans. And acquired through the island’s barter system, with no money changing hands.

  After hanging up his own jacket and flicking raindrops from his hair, Luke walked over to the coffee table, which was made of different kinds of wood put together in an attractive patchwork. “Hey, boys, look at this. It’s one of Grandpa Forbes’s pieces.”

  “Your stepdad made this?” she said to him. “It’s lovely.”

  Luke had brought wine, which she appreciated, but he hadn’t tried to kiss her when he came in, not even a peck on the cheek. That shouldn’t irk her, but for some reason it did.

  Ariana, who’d been playing in the bedroom, must have heard the voices because she came running out. She looked adorable in the long-sleeved tie-dyed tee Di and Seal had given her for Christmas. The front sported a peace sign and the back said, “Give peace a chance.” Seal had said in a droll tone, “Get ’em when they’re young.”

  The little girl came to a halt, casting a dubious look at Brandon and Caleb, who were exploring the living room. Then she ran over to Luke, raising her arms. “Luke! Up!”

  Laughing, he obliged, hoisting her up so they were face-to-face. “Hey there, pretty girl. I like a woman who knows what she wants.” He glanced over at Miranda.

  If he was wondering whether she knew what she wanted, she’d have to say she wasn’t one hundred percent sure. She’d thought it was only friendship, but there was something about seeing Luke today . . . He looked so tall and masculine in jeans and a black, soft-weave Henley that showcased his well-developed musculature. Maybe it was the black, making him look a bit more bad-boy than wholesome. But then again, she could hardly call him bad-boy when he was cuddling her child, who fit so comfortably and happily in his arms.

  Whatever it was about him, she had to admit to a tug of attraction. Not mindless lust like she’d felt with Ariana’s father or Chef Emile, but attraction. Partly physical but partly something else she couldn’t identify.

  There was no time to ponder all this, because the twins were messing with the screen in front of the natural gas fireplace. “Luke,” she said, gesturing in their direction. “The glass window of the fireplace gets really hot. Ariana can’t move that attached safety screen, but the boys might be able to.”

  “Kids,” Luke said, “stop it. You could get hurt.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Brandon said, the words coming automatically, as if they’d been said many times before. He didn’t stop playing with the screen. Caleb at least stopped tugging on it, to turn and look at his dad.

  “If you break it,” Luke said with a firmer, warning tone, “you have to pay for it. Out of your allowance.”

  Luke gave four-year-olds an allowance? Apparently so, because the threat proved effective. Both kids abandoned the fireplace and Brandon said, “Where’s the pizza?”

  “I
t’s not ready yet,” she told him and his brother, “because we’re going to make our own. Like we did with those ice cream sundaes.”

  “Cool,” Caleb said.

  She started toward the kitchen, the boys racing past her, and Luke following her with Ariana in his arms.

  Miranda had moved the chairs away from the four-top table to give easy access. On the table sat platters of toppings and a large pizza pan filled with oil-brushed dough. “Everyone like tomato sauce?” she asked.

  “Yes!” Brandon yelled, and Caleb agreed.

  Ariana added her decisive “Yes” as Luke pulled up the chair with the booster cushion and settled her at one end of the table where she could watch the proceedings.

  Miranda spread the lightly chunky, aromatic sauce. “It’s Di’s, made with SkySong tomatoes. The best I’ve ever tasted.”

  When the pizza had a layer of sauce, she marked off a slice that was one-sixth of the total and put some mushrooms and cheese on it. “This slice is for Ariana. Boys, you get the rest of this pizza. Put what you want on it. There’s salami, pepperoni, mozzarella, Parmesan, onions, mushrooms, green pepper, and olives.”

  “Cool,” Caleb said again.

  “Boys, wash your hands first,” Luke said.

  They obeyed, doing a sketchy wash at the sink, and then began to toss slices of salami onto the crust.

  “That one’s for us?” Luke asked, gesturing toward the other pizza pan, the one she’d borrowed from Di, which sat on the kitchen counter with another round of dough in it.

  “Yes. Go ahead, add whatever toppings you want. I’m good with all of it.” Eyeing his enthusiastic twins, she said, “If you want any salami or pepperoni, you’d better grab it before your sons take it all.”

  He did exactly that, saying to her, “Can you spread tomato sauce on the crust?”

  She obliged, and he distributed the sliced meat, then together they spread vegetables. Standing this close to him, their fingers occasionally brushing as they topped the pizza, she felt warmer than the heat of the oven justified. He really was very masculine, in his laid-back way. Rather than having the powerful immediate reaction she’d felt with Sebastian or Emile, Luke’s impact snuck up on her in a disconcerting manner.

  She was glad when Brandon loudly announced, “We’re done. Let’s cook it,” and she and Luke stepped away from each other.

  “I don’t see any veggies on that pizza,” he said, eyeing the sloppy pile of sausage and cheese. He evened out the toppings, cleared extras from Ariana’s slice, and added a handful of sliced mushrooms and another of green pepper to the boys’ five-sixths, ignoring their protest that he was ruining it.

  “They used to eat vegetables,” he told Miranda. “But then some kids at daycare said veggies were icky.”

  “Icky!” Brandon affirmed.

  “What? Those kids sound pretty stupid,” she said, speaking to Luke as she slid the children’s pizza into the oven. “I thought Brandon and Caleb were smarter than that.” She set the timer for ten minutes.

  He shot her an amused grin. “One can only hope.”

  “We’re smart,” came Caleb’s quiet little voice.

  Miranda went over to where he stood by the table, and bent down to meet his gaze. “You see? I thought you were. Do me a favor and don’t listen to what the stupid kids say.”

  Caleb frowned slightly and Miranda went on. “Your daddy’s smart, right? He went to university for years and years, and he’s an animal doctor. Everyone on the island who has an animal depends on him.”

  The boy was nodding vigorously, and Brandon said, “Daddy’s smarter than anyone!” Then he qualified it with, “Except maybe Granny Annie.”

  “You got that right,” Luke said dryly.

  “There you go,” Miranda said. “That’s what I thought. So when other kids say something you’re not sure about, you ask your daddy and he’ll tell you if they’re right. Because he knows ev-rything.” She exaggerated her pronunciation and tossed a saucy grin in Luke’s direction.

  “A fact that all of you should remember,” he joked back.

  “Luke?” Ariana said, looking puzzled and not too happy.

  Luke said, “Miranda, why don’t you toss the rest of these toppings on our pizza?” He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her daughter. “Hey, I like that T-shirt. That’s very cool.”

  “Cool!” she repeated. “Is peace.”

  “Peace is a very good thing,” he said, no doubt realizing she was too young to understand the concept.

  Finished preparing the pizza, Miranda took plates from the cupboard. “Caleb, Brandon, would you please put these on the table?” She didn’t worry because the brightly colored dishes were virtually indestructible. “Then pull up chairs and sit down.”

  To Luke, she said, “Milk or apple juice for the boys? And I take it you’re good with wine?”

  “Milk for the twins, please. And yeah, a glass of red wine sounds good. But I’ll only have one. Driving, you know.”

  “That means more left over for me,” she said as she poured milk. She never had more than one drink. No way was she going to turn into her mom. But she looked forward to enjoying the rest of the bottle over the next two or three evenings.

  The timer dinged and she removed the kids’ pizza. After sliding the adult one into the oven, she brought the cooked pizza to the table and gave it pride of place in the center. “Well done, guys. It looks terrific. Be careful, it’s hot.” She sliced the pie and put pieces on each of the boys’ plates and then put on Ariana’s bib. After blowing on the non-sausage slice to cool it, she gave it to her daughter along with some strips of raw green pepper.

  With the children now all happily eating, she uncorked the bottle of Destiny Cellars Shiraz Luke had brought, and poured two glasses. Giving him one, she leaned back against the counter and said, “So, how’ve you been over the past week or so?” It wasn’t exactly a “why didn’t you call me?” but she hoped he’d offer an explanation.

  He shrugged. “Oh, you know, busy. Lambing season’s starting so I’m doing pre-lambing vaccinations and checking the ewes’ health.”

  That was probably true, but the way he shifted position and gazed at the kids rather than looking at her made her think there was more than a busy workload behind his failure to call. But she wouldn’t probe. It wasn’t like he was her boyfriend. He was a casual friend and he’d chosen to be here tonight.

  “How about you?” he asked. His tone relaxed and a mischievous sparkle lit his eyes when he said, “Any more returns from Mrs. Abercrombie?”

  “No, thank heavens. That woman’s a real challenge to the ‘customer is always right’ philosophy. She—”

  Two things interrupted her: the ding of the timer and a knock at her door.

  “Could you check the pizza?” she asked Luke as she headed for the door, squaring her shoulders. No one dropped by except Aaron and members of Eden’s family. Normally, she enjoyed those visits, but why tonight?

  She checked the peephole, groaned, and opened the door to her brother.

  Aaron rested a hand on the doorframe, leaning through the opening, dripping on the floor. “Eden and I came to have dinner with her parents and Kelsey, and I saw Luke Chandler’s vet SUV outside.”

  If only she could move the calendar forward two weeks. By then Eden’s parents and sister would have moved out of the cabin three doors along. They’d be in the house they’d bought, only a few miles down the road from SkySong.

  “What’s going on?” her brother asked. “Did you and Ariana get a pet?”

  “No, Aaron.” She was trying to figure out what to say when Luke called, “It’s done. Want me to slice it?”

  She sighed, and called, “Sure, I’ll be there in a sec.” To Aaron, she said, “We’re having pizza.”

  “Oh yeah?” Without being invited, he came through the door, nudging her aside.

  “Do come in,” she said sarcastically as he hung up his jacket and headed for the kitchen. She heard, “Hey, Luke,” and
“Hey, Aaron,” and hurried after her annoying, overprotective brother.

  Luke, who’d turned from the table, was standing facing Aaron, who’d stopped just inside the kitchen door. The two men were roughly the same size and build, both strong and fit, and dressed similarly. Luke’s chestnut hair and winter-pale skin contrasted with the near-black hair and brownish skin that were legacies of Aaron’s indigenous heritage on his father’s side.

  It was almost as if the two guys were squaring off, staring at each other and waiting to see who’d speak next.

  It turned out to be Ariana, who cried, “Unc Aaron!” An excited smile beamed on her sauce-smeared little face.

  He stared at Luke a moment longer before his posture relaxed and he turned to his niece, grinning. “Hey, Fairy-ana. I see you’ve been eating pizza.”

  “Pee-za!” she said.

  Aaron dropped a kiss on top of her head, swiped a finger down her cheek, and then popped his finger in his mouth. “Mmm. Good pizza.”

  “Pee-za with Luke.” She glanced across the table at Brandon and Caleb, who were ignoring everything but their dinner. Pouty-faced, she added, “And boys.”

  “So I see,” Aaron said. He turned to Miranda, putting his back to Luke and the kids. “I didn’t know you knew Luke.”

  “Well, I do.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “How long has this been going on?” he demanded. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

  She gazed pointedly in the direction of the three children, and beckoned him into the living room, aware that Luke was following. Ignoring him, she glared at her brother. “I don’t know what you think this is, but if you’re asking how long Luke and I have been friends, I guess it’s a few weeks now. As for telling you, I didn’t know I was required to report all my friendships to you.”