She gave a sidewise glance at Mateo, who had made some kind of weapon with a branch he’d picked up and was back to making noises and didn’t seem to be paying attention to them. “It’s really okay. Although I am very grateful it wasn’t a cherry limeade.”
He winked. “That would have been a sticky situation, for sure.”
She laughed, relaxing a little more. Another volley of fireworks lit the night sky and they tipped their heads to watch. But Joanna went back to studying Luke long before the colored lights fizzled into embers.
He turned, too, and caught her eye. “I’m glad you came.”
She nodded. “Me too.”
He glanced at Mateo and lowered his voice. “I’d like to see you again. If that’s okay.”
Her heart raced. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that little thrill. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll call you.”
She flashed a grin. “Oh, sure. That’s what they all say.”
“I will call you.”
“If you don’t, I might have to call you.” She said it teasingly, but she meant every word. She liked this man. A lot. And she was willing to wait for Luke. Even if it was a few months until Mateo was settled in his forever home.
She supposed it could be longer than a few months. Things in the foster care system sometimes moved like molasses.
She laughed to herself. She could already hear her sisters chiding her for falling so hard for a man she’d now officially had exactly one-point-five dates with.
Driving home, Luke found himself wishing it was Joanna Chandler buckled in the passenger seat beside him instead of a sleeping twelve-year-old boy. The thought brought with it a twinge of guilt—only because it also brought a thought of Maria. Luke wouldn’t have wanted her to think Mateo was a burden. That was too strong a word, but it was a pain in the butt to have an adolescent along on a date—especially when you really liked the woman. Really, really liked her.
Mateo was almost asleep, his head lolling against the window when Luke pulled into his garage. “Hey, buddy. Wake up. We’re home.”
“No.” Mateo moaned and played possum. “Leave me right here. I’ll come in later.”
“No. Come in now. Come on …” He gave Mateo’s knee a few sharp pats. “Come on.”
“You’re mean!”
“You’re right. I am. Now come on. Unbuckle and go brush your teeth.”
It was an uphill battle, but after twenty minutes Mateo was in bed with teeth brushed and prayers said. Luke sat on the side of his bed as had become Mateo’s bedtime ritual. He tucked the blankets around the narrow shoulders. “Sleep tight, okay?”
“Uh-huh. You too.”
Luke reached up and turned off the lamp on the nightstand, the one he’d brought from Mateo’s bedroom in Maria’s apartment. “See you in the morning.”
He rose and started to leave the room, feeling his way the short distance in the dim light from the hallway. But as he pulled the door halfway closed, Mateo’s voice made him halt. “How come you talk to that girl—Miss Joanna—the same way you talked to Mama?”
Luke stopped short and returned to Mateo’s bedside, grateful for the darkness. “What do you mean, buddy?” But he was only buying time. He knew very well what Mateo meant.
He and Maria had joked around and teased each other. Some might have called it flirting. Whenever their interactions veered in that direction, it had usually been him who put the skids on things. Especially if Mateo was in on the conversation—which he invariably was.
That last day of her life, Maria had made him promise to take care of Mateo, to raise him as a son. But she’d also made a confession that, even now, he wasn’t sure how to process.
Luke had always been very conscious of the expectations Big Brothers and Big Sisters had of their volunteers, and since the radio station was involved in supporting and promoting BBBS—and he was their employee—he felt a double obligation not to do anything that might call the ethics of either entity into question.
And by the time Mateo’s social worker had moved away and his Big/Little relationship with Mateo continued without benefit of the organization’s oversight, he’d felt even more obligated to keep things the way they had been.
But that last day, sitting by her bedside, with Maria clutching his hand through the rails of the hospital bed that hospice had moved to her apartment, she told him, “I love you, Lukas. I think I’ve always loved you.”
The words were threaded, with great effort, through parched lips, but there was no question Maria knew what she was saying. She wasn’t speaking under the influence of drugs or out of desperation. It was a simple declaration of her love.
For one desperate moment, he wondered if she expected him to echo her words. Would he regret it if he disappointed her … broke her heart, even by not exchanging declarations? What harm would it do to let her go to her grave believing he felt the same?
And he did love her. But it wasn’t the same kind of love she’d declared for him.
Maria took the decision out of his hands a few seconds later. She looked up at him with love in her rheumy eyes. “You don’t have to say anything, Lukas,” she whispered. “You … you’ve loved me in the best way I could ever hope for. By loving my son.”
“Is it? Is it, Luke?” Mateo’s words made Luke’s breath catch.
“Sorry, buddy. Is it what?” He’d been so mired in thought he hadn’t realized Mateo had been trying to get his attention.
“Is it because you love her?”
“Whoa … What are we talking about, buddy? I must have missed something.”
“Is that why you talk to Miss Joanna like you do? You know … All goo-goo-ga-ga? Because you love her?”
Luke laughed at the kid’s facial gymnastics when he said goo-goo-ga-ga, but behind the laughter, he was scrambling to figure out how to answer that question in a way that didn’t incriminate him. “Mateo, I haven’t even known Joanna—Miss Joanna—long enough to know if I like her, let alone mention love.” His own words sounded very convincing, but he’d never fallen for a woman as hard—or as fast—as he’d fallen for Joanna Chandler. Which seemed ridiculous given that she was making it very clear that she wasn’t a fan of Mateo. And Mateo wasn’t going anywhere. It was a problem he didn’t know how to get around.
Jo had barely been home an hour and had just settled on the sofa with a cup of decaf when her phone buzzed. Probably one of her sisters. Britt had been staying in the cabin alone, but Jo noticed she usually found some excuse to call as soon as it got dark.
But when she picked up her phone, it was Luke’s name on the screen, or more accurately MO-DJ. She hadn’t really expected him to call her tonight. But she wasn’t exactly surprised either. She was pleased, and her “hello” must have communicated that.
“Hey, you.” There was a smile in his voice. “I hope I’m not calling too late.”
“No. Of course not. I’m still up. Sipping a cup of decaf, in fact.”
“Ah. So, are you one of those flavored coffee lovers or a purist?”
She laughed. “I can tell which you are by that snarky ‘one of those’ comment.”
“And I can tell you’re ‘one of those’ by your snarky comeback.”
She gave a little huff. “Glad we got that settled. Note to self: Do not serve Luke amaretto vanilla caramel pumpkin coffee.”
“Please tell me there’s not really such a thing.”
“I can tell you that all night, but there is. You might even like it.”
“I doubt it. But I’ll tell you what I did like.”
“Oh?” She cradled the phone to her ear, not wanting to miss one word.
“The evening with you. Except it ended too soon. For me anyway.”
Laughing softly, she curled her feet beneath her on the sofa, burrowing into the corner. “I agree. It did.”
“Mateo was mad that I didn’t ask you to go for ice cream after the fireworks.”
“What? You went for ice cr
eam without me?”
“Don’t worry, I told him no.”
“Ah, so he wasn’t mad on my account as much as his own.”
Luke laughed. “Well, maybe. But he did use you as the reason he thought we should have gone.”
She was pleased—and, frankly, surprised—that Mateo had actually mentioned her. “I was afraid he’d be mad at me. About the spill. It shocked me so much I … hope I wasn’t rude to him.”
“Are you kidding? If anybody should be mad at anybody, it’s you. At me.”
“I’m not mad. And why you? You’re not the one who spilled all over me.”
“Well, me by proxy.”
“No. I know it was an accident.”
His heavy sigh held shades of relief. “I’ll be honest, for a minute there, I was afraid that would be the end of the date.”
“I didn’t say anything rude, did I?” She held her breath. What if she had? “I honestly don’t even remember what I said. It happened so fast …”
“Well, if you ignore the part where you cussed a blue streak, then no, you didn’t say anything rude.”
She could imagine the ornery smirk accompanying his laughter.
“Just so you know, sir, I do not cuss. But I’ll tell you what, that water was cold!”
They laughed together.
“Mostly what I remember, Miss Chandler, was a lot of gasping and sputtering.”
“Well, hey, Mr. Blaine, let me dump a huge glass of ice water in your lap and see if you might gasp and sputter a little bit too.”
“Nah … I’d probably just cuss a blue streak.”
Oh … this man. Smiling, Jo stretched out on the sofa, wishing he were here with her now, and knowing that no matter how cautious she was attempting to be, her heart was not listening. At all.
CHAPTER 20
JO HAD A HARD TIME concentrating at work the next day, replaying her conversation with Luke over and over. They’d talked on the phone until almost midnight, when he finally apologized for keeping her up on a work night, and then hung up … but reluctantly, she thought. She hoped.
And he had asked her out for another date. He implied that this time it would be just the two of them. Without Mateo. After their fun phone conversation, she was excited about the prospect of another date, and even though it was only two days away, the hours would drag until Friday finally came.
She’d already started praying that the kid would stay healthy, wouldn’t get in trouble at school, wouldn’t talk Luke into letting him tag along, and every other contingency she could think of. She felt a little guilty about that.
And more than a little petty. But was it wrong to want a man’s full attention when they were on a date? How was she supposed to get to know—let alone fall in love with—someone who was so busy cleaning up messes and teaching manners and giving hugs and high fives that he could hardly pay attention to her? And someone who got interrupted every time it finally started to feel like they were finally having a decent conversation and learning to know each other a little?
She was jealous, plain and simple. Of a twelve-year-old orphan. How pathetic was that?
When she went home for lunch, Britt was washing out paintbrushes in front of the unfinished cabin where she’d been working for the past week.
“How’s it going?” Jo called across the driveway.
Britt sighed. “Slow. And hot.” She headed Jo’s way, shaking a wet paintbrush as she walked. The droplets of water sparkled in the midday sun.
“It’s not even eighty degrees yet. Do you have all the fans set up?” The two smaller cabins didn’t have central air, although Quinn had put a window unit in Britt’s cabin. Thankfully, here by the river with the houses all deep in the shade, it rarely got hot enough to run the AC.
“It’s not so much hot as it is humid. I’m sweating like a dog.”
“You’re working like a dog too.” Jo reached up and tried unsuccessfully to brush flecks of dried paint from her sister’s hair. “Why don’t you quit for the afternoon? I can help you when I get off work tonight.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m on a roll. I’ll eat later.” She propped the paintbrush on the ledge of the porch to dry and opened the door to the cottage’s enclosed porch. “I made some chicken salad if you want a sandwich. I can go get it.”
“That’s okay. It’s carrot sticks for me. I’m saving the calories for Friday night.”
“What’s Friday night?”
Jo grinned. “I have a date. Dexter Bar-B-Que.”
“You have a date with Dexter Bar-B-Que?”
“Haha. Very funny.”
“With Luke?” Britt’s brow knit. “This is starting to sound serious. Well, except for the Dexter’s part. Not exactly your top date-night restaurant.”
“For your information, it was my choice. And I wouldn’t exactly call three dates serious.”
“So, do you like him?”
“I do.” Avoiding her sister’s gaze, she went to the fridge and rummaged for something to go with her carrots. “I like him a lot. I have some … reservations, but—”
“What do you mean reservations?” She could feel Britt’s eyes burning a hole through her back.
“Mateo.” She grabbed a cup of yogurt and closed the refrigerator door. “Oh. You want some yogurt? I have plenty.”
Britt waved off her offer. “I’ll have some chicken salad later. So, how much longer will Luke have Mateo?”
“I’m not sure. But I’m starting to wonder if it’s a sort of semipermanent thing.”
“Semipermanent? You mean Luke’s going to raise him?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it. Or at least every time I try to bring it up, it feels like he changes the subject.” It had happened again on the phone last night, which was making her more than suspicious. “I really do like Luke, but I don’t know that I want some kid tagging along everywhere we go.”
“Why? Is he coming on your Dexter Bar-B-Que date?”
“He’s not supposed to. Luke said it’ll just be the two of us. But Luke did bring him last night for the fireworks.” Between bites of yogurt, she told Britt about Mateo spilling water in her lap.
Britt’s laughter faded. “You don’t think he did it on purpose, do you?”
Jo paused, spoon suspended midair. “I hadn’t thought about that possibility. But … no, I think it was an honest accident. Luke made him apologize. It wasn’t that big of a deal. But kind of embarrassing.”
“Wow. Well, if I were you, I’d sure find out what the deal is. I mean, what if things got serious, Jo? You’d be the mom of a teenager!”
“Good grief, we haven’t even been on our third date and you have us married already? And anyway, that is not happening.” She couldn’t fathom living in a house with a teenager, let alone being a mother figure to one. Most days, she still felt like a teen herself. Although her friend Ginger’s sister was Jo’s age and she had a ten-year-old daughter. Of course, she’d gotten married right out of high school with a baby on the way. Still … She gave a little shudder.
“I like Luke, too, but really, Jo … what if you fall in love with him? Then what are you going to do?”
“Do?”
“About the Mateo situation?”
“It’s crazy to even think that far ahead. We’ve had two dates.”
“Going on three. Remember what Mom always said?”
“Which thing? Mom said a lot of good things.”
“Never go on even one date with someone you already know you wouldn’t marry.” Britt quoted the advice in a tone so like their mother’s that it took Jo’s breath away.
An ache—raw and physical—washed over her, and she realized it had been a while—maybe weeks—since she’d felt that soul-deep homesickness for Mom. She would have given anything in that moment to talk to her mom, tell her about Luke, and ask her advice about Mateo. She supposed she could call Dad, but it wasn’t the same. He wouldn’t understand like Mom would’ve. And he’d only try to fix her “pr
oblem” and then be disappointed if she didn’t take his advice.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t marry Luke,” she started. “He’s a great guy. I really do like him. But we’re just getting to know each other.”
“Okay, I get that. But let’s say”—she held up a hand—“hypothetically, that you date him for six months and everything about him turns out to be perfect. He’s the man of your dreams. Smart, good looking, kind, brave … everything you could want in a man. Except! He has a teenage son.”
“Mateo’s only twelve.”
“I bet in six months he’ll be thirteen. So, would that be nonnegotiable for you? A teenage son?”
“Britt! Cut it out. I can’t even think about that.”
“Well, there’s your answer. And maybe you should think about it. I’m just saying.”
But the truth was, she had thought about it. More than she dared to admit. If she and Luke got serious, would Mateo think she was trying to fill his mother’s shoes, and resent her for it? What if they got married, but Mateo always came first in Luke’s eyes? Would their own children be neglected or feel like they came in second? What if, after her own babies came along, Mateo harmed them?
Maybe she was being dramatic. But you heard about these things in the news all the time. She just didn’t see how any of this would work.
She tossed her spoon in the sink and threw the empty yogurt cup into the trash can under the sink. “Wow. Sure glad I came home for lunch so you could cheer me up.”
Britt giggled, but Jo wasn’t exactly teasing.
“Sorry, sis. Didn’t mean to rain on your parade.”
“Yes, you did.” Jo offered a weak smile.
Britt shrugged and started out of the kitchen. “I’m going to go eat something and get back to work. See you at five?”
“Make it five thirty. I need to stop at the post office on my way home.”
“Okay.” Britt left and the cottage suddenly seemed deathly quiet.
Joanna went to touch up her makeup in the bathroom mirror, but her sister’s words haunted her. If Mateo was a deal breaker for her, then what was she doing leading Luke on?
Chasing Dreams Page 14
