Six

I skidded to a halt in front of my mirror and groaned at my reflection. Why couldn’t I be a silky nightgown kind of woman? I mean, if I was gonna get caught in my sleepwear, something sexy was preferable to my mother’s flannel PJs.

“You still wouldn’t have worn it,” I told my reflection and began stripping. I slept in the nude while I lived in Florida, but with what the temperature was here, and no one seeing me in the mornings, I’d worn them for comfort as much as needing to feel close to my mother.

Just find something attractive and get downstairs.

“Lucas Deacon Knight,” I mumbled. It was a great name, and it fit him to a T.

I knew I would run into him again, but his showing up on my doorstep felt a little like Jane had said. Destiny.

I pulled on a fuzzy pink sweater and jeans, then tried to manage my heavy mane of curly hair that never wanted to cooperate. I settled on a ponytail since it was quickest, then looked longingly at my cosmetic bag. I didn’t have time for makeup, but a coat of lip gloss was a must, so I dug inside until I found my favorite nude shade with just a hint of strawberry flavoring.

I started to head back downstairs, but I spied my perfume sitting on the counter, so I doused myself liberally with the soft scent.

Here goes nothing.

I found Luke where I’d left him, standing by the front door. As I descended the staircase, he studied me with a cool, measuring gaze, but then his jaw seemed to tighten and his eyes flared. My heart sped up as he took in my measure, and I stumbled a bit on the bottom step from his expression.

Is that appreciation I see in his eyes or loathing?

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take that long,” I apologized.

“Just show me to your basement,” he bit out on a half-growl.

I swallowed hard, nervous about his demeanor, then walked toward the kitchen with my heart in my throat. The room felt charged with strong emotions, the most predominant one being anger.

My heart sank.

Definitely loathing.

Somehow, I’d insulted him.

I’d left the light on downstairs, so when I opened the basement door, I kept right on going down the steps, taking deep breaths to control the nervous shudders rolling through my body.

“You don’t have to come with me. I can find it from here,” he mumbled as he took the steps two at a time, walking past me without as much as a glance in my direction.

I blinked. He was dismissing me.

I followed him with my eyes as he headed for the furnace, wondering what I had done. Maybe he’s just having a bad morning? I had called him out on Christmas Eve.

“I’m happy to stay and help,” I said, smiling brightly, hoping a cheerful tone would break the ice. “I could hand you your tools.”

I’d walked up behind him as I spoke, then leaned down to look inside the furnace as he took the panel off. He turned to look at me as I scrunched my nose at all the cobwebs hanging from the wires and fittings. My brother’s constant traveling could be seen in every inch of our parents’ home. He had no time for general maintenance, let alone having the roof replaced. Guess it was time for me to learn how to use a screwdriver.

When I turned my head to look at Luke, my breath caught at how close I was to his face. I could smell his distinct scent again, and had to stop myself before I took a deep breath to pull it into my lungs. At this distance, he would know what I was doing.

Surprisingly, he sucked a deep breath into his own lungs as our gazes locked, then his eyes darted to my lips before flashing with anger.

“I’ve got it covered,” he snapped intensely, then went back to work, dismissing me yet again as if the idea of speaking to me was distasteful.

I swallowed hard and backed up a step, humiliated. “Is my brother hitting your truck the reason why you’re so rude to me, or are you generally this much of a scrooge?” I bit out in self-defense. I’d been nothing but nice to this man, but he was just an asshole in Prince Charming’s clothing.

Lesson learned: if they look that good, there’s probably a reason why they’re still single.

Luke’s head snapped around, confusion written across the blankness of his eyes. “What?” he asked almost in a whisper, then his brows rose in a look of disbelief. “What do you mean, your brother?”

“You know what? Never mind. I’m sorry I bothered you on Christmas Eve,” I returned with heat, backing up toward the stairs. “I’ll get out of your hair while you fix my furnace. You can show yourself out when you’re done. Just bill me, and I’ll get the check right out to you.”

I turned briskly, sprinting up the stairs. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. As far away from my stupid attraction as I could get.

As I hit the top step, I heard him mumble, “Jesus,” just as my cell phone began to ring. I ran to it like it was a lifeline, praying someone needed me immediately so I wouldn’t have to face Luke again.

It said Gregg calling, and I sighed in relief. He somehow always knew when I needed him.

“Miss me already?” I asked cheerfully, my voice steady even though my hands were shaking with anger and humiliation. Luke was probably downstairs chuckling over the foolish woman who’d dared flirt with him.

“Anna?” a familiar voice asked.

“Darryl?” It was my brother’s bandmate who’d been more than a little obvious about his feelings for me. He’d even gone as far as flying to Florida once to see me. I’d made it clear over and over that I wasn’t interested, but it never seemed to sink in.

“Yeah . . .” he said, his voice hesitant.

The hair on my neck began to rise. Something was wrong with Gregg, I could feel it. I knew it as clearly as any biological twin knew when their other half had been hurt.

“What’s happened?” I cried out.

“Anna—” he was hedging, so I cut him off.

“Just spit it out,” I shouted, near hysterical. “What happened to my brother?”

“Car accident. We were headed home to surprise you for Christmas, and got caught in a snow storm just outside of Springfield, Missouri.” I swallowed past the knot in my throat, petrified to ask him if Gregg had survived.

I heard the sound of Luke coming quickly up the stairs and turned to look at him. He paused in the doorway, his gaze sharp as he watched me. I couldn’t tear my eyes off his, needed them to anchor me to reality as I asked, “Is Gregg dead?” in a small voice.

Darryl responded immediately. “No. But it doesn’t look good.”

My legs gave out then, but before I hit the floor, Luke scooped me into his arms and held on tight, mumbling, “I’ve got you.”

“What hospital?” I asked on autopilot, thankful for the strength of Luke’s arms.

“Mercy Hospital in Springfield. He’s in surgery now. I’ll call you when he’s out.”

“I’m coming. I’ll leave in the next hour. I just need to rent a car, then I’ll hit the road.”

“It’s my fault,” Darryl whispered. “I was driving, giving him shit about how he already had an accident this week, and I lost control.”

I shook my head, which had come to rest on Luke’s chest somehow. “It’s not your fault; it’s mine. I gave him hell about leaving me all alone at Christmas.” I choked on the words. If my brother died, I’d never forgive myself. “If I hadn’t been so selfish, he’d be safe in St. Louis.”