CHAPTER TWO
Sophie parked the stroller on the sidewalk beside Aidan’s Animal Hospital’s glass doors. With Jamison on one hip and Atticus on the other, Sophie pushed through the door of the vet’s office.
“Hi, Mrs. Vines,” she greeted the receptionist. “Is Aidan in?”
Mrs. Vines, who had the face and figure of the Pillsbury Doughboy and the temperament of a hostile schoolmarm, frowned at Sophie. “The doctor is busy. Did you make an appointment?”
“No, I just hoped…” Her voice trailed away when she caught sight of Aidan through the swinging door.
He waved and smiled at her. “Be right out, Sophie!” he called, not seeming surprised at all to see her with a puppy in his office.
Sophie settled onto one of the hard plastic chairs, and kept Jamison on her lap. Atticus took the seat beside her. She absently stroked the dog’s head, wondering about his parentage. “What kind of dog do you think this is?” she asked Mrs. Vines.
Mrs. Vines wrinkled her nose as if Atticus were a particularly smelly breed. “It’s hard to say. You should have him groomed.”
“I gave him a bath. I just found him last night,” Sophie explained. “I wasn’t planning on keeping him, but…”
“He has to belong to someone,” Mrs. Vines said.
“That’s why I came by. I thought maybe Aidan would know if someone had lost a puppy.”
Mrs. Vines raised her eyebrows. “He probably needs his shots, as well.”
Atticus barked at Mrs. Vines as if he’d understood what she’d said and he disagreed.
Aidan emerged from the back, wiping his hands on a paper towel. “Who have we here?” he asked, eyeing the dog with a smile. He squatted beside Atticus and ruffled his ears.
Sophie explained to him what had happened. “I wanted to ask you if you know who might have lost him, but I’m reconsidering.”
He stood, waiting for her to continue. “You’re thinking of keeping him, then?”
“Well, yes. His owners are obviously irresponsible and undeserving.”
His lips twitched with a suppressed smile.
“You think I’m making a mistake. You think I have my hands full with a baby and adding a puppy to my chaos is a mistake.”
He shook his head and sat in the plastic chair beside her. “That’s not what I think at all.”
“Oh.”
“I think if you insist on staying at Chloe’s, you should get a dog. They’re the best security system money can buy.”
Sophie eyed the dog and edged away from Aidan. “He’s not ferocious.”
“He’s a puppy. And even if he doesn’t get very big, he can still be very noisy. That’s usually enough of a deterrent for most burglars.” Aidan’s knee brushed against her thigh.
Sophie squirmed in her chair. “That’s another reason I came by. Do you have any idea what breed he is? Or what size he’ll get?”
“He could be part beagle, maybe some terrier…”
“But his fur?”
“He’s got hair, not fur.” Aidan chuckled and ran his fingers over the dog’s matted coat. “There’s a difference. Want me to get you an appointment with Clare?”
“Clare?”
“She’s a dog groomer as well as a hairstylist.”
“I didn’t know.” Suddenly, all the things she didn’t know about owning a dog weighed down her shoulders. “This is probably a really stupid idea.”
Aidan put his hand on her knee and gently squeezed it. “You’ll be a terrific dog owner. Look at what a good job you’re doing with Jamison. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m happy to help you train him.”
It would be so easy to lean into Aidan and let him take over her life. “You’re such a good friend,” she said, standing and shifting his hand off her knee.
“Why don’t you leave him here with me now so I can check him over, give him his shots, and I’ll bring him back tonight after work?”
“Perfect,” she said, smiling at him, and wishing his touch could send her pulse racing in the same way Luke’s had.
#
“Explain pheromones to me,” Sophie said to Liz as they sat at Liz’s kitchen table decorating gingerbread men.
Liz’s tube of frosting hovered over a half-dressed cookie and she shot a glance at her three-year-old son. “Is this a conversation Teddy wants to hear?”
“He’s not paying attention to us.”
Teddy sat on the sofa, wrapped up in a quilt with this thumb in his mouth and his eyes locked on the TV screen.
“You think that, but I’ve been fooled too many times. He picks up on stuff. Just last week he told Auntie Susan that her husband was a ten and she was at best a five and that she needed to up her game if she wanted to hold on to him.”
Sophie snorted and even Jamison pounded on his high chair tray as if he thought it was funny.
“Where’d he get that?” Sophie asked.
“Hatty. He was just repeating what she’d said.”
“Catty Hatty,” Sophie said, shaking her head.
Jamison gurgled and waved his spoon at her.
Liz tightened her lips. “My mom was really mad.”
“Was Hatty embarrassed?”
“You know Hatty.”
“So, no.”
“Besides, we didn’t tell Susan where Teddy learned about tens…” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “And I’m not so sure I want him to know about pheromones.”
“He’ll find out on his own soon enough.”
“Anyway, why the interest in chemistry?”
“We all have it, right?” Sophie took a long time to refill her frosting bag, being painstakingly careful not to get any of the goop on her fingers. “But why do some have it more than others?”
Liz slid her glance below her lashes. “You want to know why you get the hots for one guy and not for another?”
“Yeah.”
“Who’s the guy? It’s not Aidan, is it?”
“I really want it to be Aidan…”
“Have you told him that?”
“No. Do you think I should? I’ll see him tonight.”
“Who’s the guy?” Liz repeated. “I’ll find out eventually,” she said when Sophie refused to answer. “It’s not like you can keep a secret.”
“Excuse me. I’m an attorney.” She slathered a cookie with frosting. “Keeping secrets is part of my job. And you’re a doctor. Secrets are a part of your job, too.”
“True. But your pheromones are hardly a medical condition.”
Sophie put three gumdrop buttons on her gingerbread man. “I’m stronger and smarter than my pheromones.”
“Of course you are.” Liz’s lips twitched.
Sophie studied her cookie. His smile was crooked, his bowtie askew, and the buttons were too big for his body. She bit off his leg. He tasted better than he looked. “I’m going to kiss Aidan tonight.”
“Oh sweetie.” Liz’s mouth turned down. “Don’t do that.”
“Why not? We’ve been semi-dating for weeks.” She polished off the cookie, licked her fingers, and wiped her hands on a napkin. It didn’t help. She still felt sticky.
“But you’ve been friends for years. Don’t blow that.”
Sophie went to the sink to wash her hands. “Don’t you see? I think that’s the problem. Neither of us is willing to step outside of the friend zone.” She picked up another cookie and coated him in frosting. “I’m going to do it.”
Jamison beamed at her as if this were a very good idea, but Teddy looked up from the TV and sent her a speculative glance as if trying to decide what number she was.
“No, you know what?” A small thrill of determination passed through Sophie. “I’m going to make him kiss me.”
Liz’s smiled returned. “And how are you going to do that?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Sophie winked. “But I’ll let you know how it goes.”
#
Sophie smiled as she pulled her Stromboli from the oven and thanked her Italian grandmother for this edible piece of heaven. She hummed along with Bing Crosby as he crooned about a white Christmas while she slathered garlic butter on sliced French bread. She’d bought a bunch of white daisies and placed them in a vase on the table along with a red and white checked tablecloth and a pair of long black candlesticks.
Jamison pounded on his high chair tray and gurgled at her. She gave him a few green beans and watched as he shoved them into his mouth and gummed them. How would Aidan feel about a ready-made family? They’d known each other since grade school and had been friends in high school. Since they’d both been in the band—he played the clarinet and she the flute—they’d had mutual friends, including Liz and Mark. Chloe had been two grades ahead, as had Matt. Luke three.
But why was she thinking about Luke? She dragged her attention back to Aidan. He was everything she needed. Everything she wanted. After double checking her lipstick in the mirror, she went into the living room. The toys had been picked up and piled into a tidy basket behind the sofa. Atticus’s quilt was folded neatly on the hearth. A glance at her watch told her that she still had another hour until Jamison’s bedtime.
She didn’t know how to woo a guy with a baby underfoot.
She didn’t know how to woo a guy, period. In college, she’d been so busy trying to keep her grades up to maintain her scholarship, to make sure she got into a good law school. And then in law school, she hadn’t had time to take a breath. She couldn’t be one of the starving attorneys who didn’t pass the bar since no one was going to financially bail her out.
A crunch of tires on the gravel driveway and a set of headlight beams told her she needed to learn wooing fast. She was a quick study and she’d done some reading on pheromones and human sexuality. If she wanted him to kiss her, she needed to touch him and stare at his lips while they talked. Seemed simple enough. She peeked out the window.
Luke.
What was he doing here? You’ll meet me for dinner tonight. His words floated back to her. She glanced at the flickering candles in the dining room, horrified because now he’d assume she’d prepared the dinner for him. She tripped over the ottoman in her hurry to snuff out the candles.
Jamison chortled, delighted, thinking she’d intentionally fallen.
She tossed the candles into the kitchen and switched on the dining room light. It still looked romantic. Should she ditch the flowers as well?
The doorbell rang.
She tried to scrub off her lipstick and mussed up her hair on her way to the door. In the hall, she adjusted her blouse, wishing she had time to throw a sweatshirt over it.
“Hey,” she said, trying to smile and act nonchalant.
Luke smiled. “Wow, it smells like heaven in here.”
“My grandmother Morelli’s recipe.”
Luke flipped his keys in his hand. “I thought I was taking you to dinner.”
She swallowed. “You said you wanted to meet for dinner, but you didn’t say where. I thought this was as good a place as any.” She motioned toward the baby. “That way I can put Jamison down.” Was that really it? She’d put Luke from her mind, but had she really? According to her reading, often the subconscious would work against rather than in harmony with the rational mind in search of what it considered an ideal mate.
But Luke Mason was not and never would be an ideal mate. At least not for her. He was too like his brother—reckless, thrill-seeking, and driven.
She didn’t need that. Unlike her sister, she liked agendas, orderliness, and—
“Are you going to invite me in?”
Should she tell him she had forgotten about his dinner stipulation? She pulled the door open and smiled.
He stepped through it too quickly. With a shudder, she realized what Aidan would think. If he found her and Luke in the dining room, he would completely misread the situation.
“I want to go out after all,” she blurted.
“But you said Jamison—”
“I know what I said, but I’ve changed my mind.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? We can still make our reservations at the Tuscan Grill.”
“I love the Tuscan Grill. That sounds perfect.”
Jamison banged his spoon on his highchair tray as if he agreed.
“I don’t know,” Luke said, as he wandered into the dining room. “This looks pretty perfect here.”
“It just looks that way, but it’s not.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s not the Tuscan Grill. This isn’t the apple whiskey chicken—I love that.” She bustled into the dining room, plucked the Stromboli platter off the table, tucked the bowl with the green salad under her arm, and headed for the kitchen. “I can eat this tomorrow for lunch.”
“All of it?”
“Or I can send some home with you.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes filled with suspicion. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“No, there’s not.”
Another pair of headlights swung down the drive.
Aidan.
“Are you expecting someone?”
“Aidan Hoffman. He’s a vet now. I left Atticus with him earlier. He’s just returning him.”
He studied her face as if trying to read her and the situation. He folded his arms across his chest and his jaw tightened.
The mudroom door opened and Aidan came in carrying Atticus in his arms.
“You leave your back door unlocked?” Luke asked, his voice thick with disapproval.
Sophie lifted her chin. “Aidan is a back door sort of friend.”
“You should keep your doors locked.”
“Are you kidding me? This isn’t the city.”
“Yeah,” he said, as if she’d just made his point. “It’s not. It’s as isolated as Iceland. I don’t know why Matt ever agreed to move out here.”
“It was my grandmother’s house. Chloe loved it. So do I.”
“Am I interrupting?” Aidan asked.
Luke pressed his lips together.
“Not at all. Thanks for bringing him home,” Sophie said, reaching for the dog and giving Aidan her warmest smile. She nestled the puppy under her chin before placing him on the quilt beside the fireplace hearth. He spun around three times before settling down with a contented sigh.
“We’re going to dinner,” Luke said.
“We, I mean Luke, wants to work out…visitations.” She stumbled over the last word, realizing for the first time that since her sister’s death, she hadn’t once left Jamison. She wasn’t sure if she could now.
“Would you like me to babysit?” Aidan asked.
“No!” Sophie burst out.
Both men’s expressions told her she’d surprised them with her vehemence. “It’s silly to have a discussion on…” She stumbled again. Clearing her throat, she continued. “…visitations without the person being visited even being there.”
Luke’s lips twitched. “Do you really think Jamie is going to have much to add to the conversation?”
Without Jamison, a night at the Tuscan Grill with Luke seemed too much like a date. “Let’s just stay here,” Sophie said. “Aidan, why don’t you join us?”
Luke’s gaze told her that he knew exactly what she was doing. Which was good, because that made at least one of them.
“Are you sure?” Aidan asked, his gaze sliding over to Luke’s hostile face.
“I made all this Stromboli. It’s way too much for just us,” Sophie said. Without waiting for Aidan’s response, she went to the kitchen to retrieve a place setting for him.
Aidan flashed Luke a triumphant smile while Sophie put down his plate and silverware.
Luke shrugged off his jacket and laid it over the back of his chair. He looked so much like Matt it made Sophie’s breath catch. Loneliness swift and deep for her sister swept through her, making her wonder when, if ever, she’d recover from the loss.
“So, what have you been doing since high school?” Aidan asked as he took the chair opposite Luke.
“I worked for the government,” Luke said.
“Someone said something about Germany?” Aidan helped himself to the green salad.
Luke nodded and cut into the Stromboli. It released a puff of warm, fragrant steam. “That’s right.”
“Are you still in government work?”
“No. I’m mostly retired, although I occasionally take on contract work.”
Luke whistled through this teeth. “It must be nice to be retired at what, thirty-three?”
“Thirty-four.”
While the two men talked, Sophie’s thoughts went back to Chloe and Matt’s memorial service. Luke’s family had filled the small stone chapel. Aunts, uncles, cousins, his little sister. Sophie had only her father, her stepmother, and George, her cousin. Matt and Luke had been raised by their grandmother who had died a year before. The will had plainly stated that in the event of their deaths, Sophie and Luke were to have joint custody of Jamison, but Luke couldn’t—or wouldn’t—leave his government job. Frustrated, Sophie chased a lettuce leaf around her plate with her fork. What made him think he could show up all these months later and act like he hadn’t screwed up her life?
How would things have been different if he’d been around six months ago? Would she have been able to keep her job at Lewis, Clapton, and Meir if she’d had someone to share custody? If Luke was really able and willing to play an equal partner in childcare, could she go back to Frisco and get her job back?
Her gaze softened as she watched Jamison wave a green bean at Luke. No. She couldn’t leave Jamison.
“So.” Luke cleared his throat and turned to her. “I heard you’ve set up your own legal counselling office.”
“Well…”
“She’s doing great,” Aidan said, placing his hand on hers.
Luke’s gaze went from Aidan’s face to his hand, and then to Sophie. She blushed beneath his scrutiny.
“It’s pretty small fry—nothing like my work in the city.”
“What?” Aidan bristled. “You won that land dispute between Mrs. Nobbs and the trailer park.”
Sophie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You just made my point.”
“She doesn’t need to work,” Luke told Aidan.
“Yes, I do,” Sophie said. She refused to touch her nephew‘s trust fund for her own maintenance, and she wanted Luke to understand this. “Even if I didn’t need the money—I need to work. It keeps me sane.”
Aidan squeezed her hand. “You’re the sanest person I know.”
He was beginning to bug her and she couldn’t even say why. Now, she didn’t only not want to kiss him, she wanted him to leave. She wanted both men to go. Picking at her Stromboli, she wondered how her life had completely derailed from the path she’d been on.
Jamison seemed to pick up on her mood and began to fuss.
Sophie put down her fork and gathered him into her arms. “He needs to be changed,” she said, although she secretly thought that Jamison wasn’t the only one in need of a change.
#
The tension in the dining room had been high before Sophie had left the room, but with her gone, Luke felt as if he were swimming in a testosterone-infested shark pond. Making chit-chat with Aidan Mason was the last thing on his very long to-do list. From the look on Aidan’s face, he felt the same.
“So where’ve you been?” Aidan asked.
“I already told you, Germany.”
Aidan didn’t say anything, but bit into his Stromboli, knocking his fork against his teeth. “She could have used you,” Aidan said. “The last few months have been really hard.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Luke ran his fingers through his hair. “Look. I’m here now.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”
“You can’t have it both ways. Either she needs help or she doesn’t.”
“She gave up her career.”
“She’s still practicing.”
“It’s hardly the same thing. But she’s been incredible. Amazing, really.” Aidan’s voice softened with appreciation. “She gave up one world and started another for her sister’s child. And you know what? The life she had and the new life she’s creating for herself and Jamison are both equally spectacular.” Aidan took a sip of his water before saying what he obviously had been waiting to say. Luke could practically hear the words she doesn’t need you spilling from Aidan’s lips, but before he could say it, Sophie came back in the room.
She balanced Jamie on her hip. “Do you guys mind if I cut this party short? I’ve got to give Jamison his bath and put him to bed, and frankly, I’m knackered.”
Luke bounced to his feet. “Let me give Jamie his bath.”
Aidan shot him a dark look. “I’ll do the dishes.” He stood and started gathering the dishes from the table.
“Guys, no. You’re my guests. I don’t want you doing my chores.” She took a deep breath. “But I do want you to go. Please.”
Jamie waved at them goodbye.
#
The next morning, Sophie and Jamison sat beside Liz and Teddy on the front pew of St. Jude’s Church. Pastor Carl Mitchells, Liz’s husband, sat on the stand while Debra Jenks played Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” on the organ. Sophie hadn’t ever attended church regularly, but ever since her sister’s death she’d found comfort and a sense of community in the small stone chapel where her best friend’s husband led the congregation.
She’d first started attending because Liz had told her how hard it was to make Teddy sit through the sermons and how important it was to Carl that she and Teddy be there. So in the beginning, she’d gone to support Liz. She couldn’t pinpoint when that had changed—when, exactly, her Sunday mornings had become more about finding peace and grace than helping her friend shore up her marriage. But she’d come to love and treasure the hour of reflection the service provided.
The calm she generally found in church shattered the moment Luke walked in and took his place beside her on the pew moments before the opening hymn.
He gave her a dazzling smile and took Jamison from her without even asking. Jamison, who was normally hesitant around strangers, sat on Luke’s knee and gazed at him with happy curiosity. The traitor.
Sophie’s lap felt cold without the baby on it and without Jamison, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands.
“Good morning,” Luke said, bumping her with his shoulder.
Sophie didn’t know what to say, but fortunately, Mrs. Lawrence stood to lead the hymn “O Come, All Ye Faithful.”
Luke sang with a loud, clear bass voice she found almost hypnotic. She could barely hear her own squeaky words beside him. He chuckled as soon as the song ended.
“What’s so funny?” she whispered, hoping he wasn’t laughing at her singing.
“That song always reminds me of an episode of The Brady Bunch,” he whispered back.
The Brady Bunch? He hadn’t seemed like a Brady Bunch-watching sort of kid. She would have pegged him as an action hero watcher.
“My sister loved them,” he whispered, answering her unasked question.
“Shh!” Liz whispered good naturedly as her husband took the stand to begin the sermon.
Sophie’s gaze wandered to Teddy who sat beside his mother scribbling in a coloring book. She wondered what sort of child Luke had been. She hadn’t met him until Chloe and Matt had started dating. Back then, when she was a freshman and he a senior, he’d seemed so much older. But once, he must have been a child just like Teddy, and even a baby like Jamison.
Jamison deserved a father.
“Did you know that the Santa in that episode also played Otis, the town drunk, in The Andy Griffith Show?” Luke whispered.
“Did you watch a lot of TV as a kid?” Sophie asked. She didn’t want Jamison to grow up to be one of those kids glued to a TV screen.
“Not so much as a kid,” he whispered back.
Liz reached over Sophie to slap Luke’s knee. “Excuse me, my husband is pontificating!” she whispered.
“Sorry,” Luke mouthed the word and turned his attention to the podium.
Sophie gazed at his strong jaw. There was something he wasn’t telling her. Something important. Something she should know. He was Jamison’s only uncle and, at the moment, the only male role model in Jamison’s life. Of course, that would all change if she married. Not that she saw that happening any time soon. She had been picky about who she dated before she gained custody of Jamison, but now that she had him to consider, her pickiness had ratcheted up to a whole new level.
She chastised herself for thinking about marriage when she should be focused on the sermon. She sent Liz an apologetic smile and tried to dial in to Carl’s message.
Unfortunately, Carl spoke in monotones. “Jesus, through Mary, his natural born mother and Joseph, his adoptive father, was of royal blood and would have been king if Israel hadn’t been under Roman rule. Let’s turn to Matthew 1:17 in our Bibles.”
Sophie reached down for her Bible which was in her bag by her feet, but her hand knocked against Luke’s and then she forgot about her scriptures as tingles shot up her arm.
Pheromones.
He didn’t even react to her touch. This bothered her. Why was he sitting so close? She edged away, clutched her Bible, and tried to refocus.
“We read in Isaiah, chapter sixty-one, ‘To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified…”
Interesting. But not nearly as interesting as the man beside her. She wanted to touch him again to see if the tingles were a one-off sort of thing or if his touch had that power over her.
She reached over to take Jamison from him, intentionally brushing her hand against his.
Yep. Tingles.
He leaned over as if to say something, but she shushed him. “I’m listening,” she said, nodding at the podium. But she wasn’t. And then she began to worry that there might be a special level in hell for those who lied in church. On the Sabbath.
#
“I was wondering if I could borrow Jamie this afternoon,” Luke said as soon as the service was over. “It’s my Aunt Lola’s seventieth birthday party and I know she, and a lot of the family who will be there, would love to see him.”
“Oh, of course.” She couldn’t really say no, but the thought of entrusting Jamison to Luke for the afternoon scared her.
“You could come, too,” he said as if he had read her thoughts.
Did that make her feel better? She weighed the options. A lonely afternoon without Jamison or a family party where she’d stick out like a dandelion in a rose garden? “I couldn’t intrude,” she said.
“You wouldn’t be. But I completely understand if you’d like an afternoon off to go shopping or whatever.”
Did she want an afternoon off? She wasn’t even sure what that would look like. The last few months had been so radically different from her life before Jamison. But when she thought about it, she realized that she’d never been great at having fun. She didn’t know how. What was the definition of fun? Acing a test? Winning a case? Scoring a settlement? Righting a wrong? As an attorney, did she feed off contention? It had certainly paid her bills.
“Hello?”
She blinked at Luke. “Sorry… I… I would love to come to your aunt’s birthday.”
He beamed at her. “Great. Why don’t you leave your car here, and I can bring you back later?”
She shook her head. “The car seat is a beast to move. I’ll just follow you.”
Sophie called Liz on her Bluetooth and explained the situation as soon as she got in the car. “I know I’m going to have to leave Jamison at some point, but I’m not ready.”
Liz clucked sympathetically. “Poor you. Someone offering you free babysitting–what a nightmare. Just think what it would have been like if he’d been here six months ago.”
“That would have been totally different.” Sophie’s voice hardened and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “He should have been here! Then we could have honored the will and shared custody. I wouldn’t have had to quit my job.”
Liz’s silence reminded her that quitting had been her own idea. After a long moment, Liz said, “You need to forgive him. If not for his sake, then for yours.”
“You sound like Lauren.”
“No, right now I’m parroting my husband.”
“I really can’t understand why Carl and Lauren don’t get along. They quote from the same textbook.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Liz said. “We’re not talking about Carl and Lauren. We’re talking about you and Luke.”
“I—huh—gotta go.” Sophie ended the call. She didn’t want to talk about Luke. She wanted to avoid him, but she didn’t know how. Chloe and Matt had loved him and they wanted their son to love him, too. And that couldn’t happen if he didn’t spend time with him. But for that to happen, she had to either let Luke occasionally take Jamison, or she had to accompany Jamison when he was with Luke. Like she was doing now.
Why wasn’t she comfortable leaving Jamison in Luke’s care?
Why was she uncomfortable around Luke?
She didn’t know the answers to either of those questions, but she decided she needed to find out soon or else she’d be forced to spend a lot of time being uncomfortable.
#
Aunt Lola lived in a Victorian house high on a bluff overlooking the gray ocean. A number of cars were already lined up along the street and Luke parked his SUV behind his cousin Tracy’s Escalade. He jumped out, eager to help Sophie with Jamie.
Sophie’s hair whipped around her as she climbed from the car.
“It’s always windy up here,” he told her.
“It’s gorgeous,” she told him, sweeping her gaze over the rolling green hills to the stretch of ocean below.
“You’ll like Aunt Lola. She has a personality that matches her house.”
“Jamison fell asleep on the way here,” she told him, her voice full of an apology. “I should probably take him home so he can get a good nap.”
Luke tried to tamp down his frustration. “He can nap here.”
Sophie hugged herself and tucked her chin into her jacket. “But wasn’t the whole point of bringing him so he could interact with your family?”
“And he can hardly do that if he’s at your house.”
“It’s my sister’s house, and he can’t interact with your family if he’s asleep.”
“Then we’ll wake him up.” He moved toward the car.
She raised her hand, stopping him. “You obviously don’t know how cranky he can be without his nap.”
“And I’ll never know if you don’t allow me to spend time with him.”
She narrowed her eyes, tightened her jaw, and bit back a retort. But then, as if an inner voice had whispered something in her ear, her shoulders sagged. He could almost see her hostility draining away.
“You don’t have to come,” he said.
A dozen conflicting emotions raced across her face before she said, “I’ll come. If he becomes a bear, I’ll take him home.”
“Or we can find him a quiet bedroom where he can lie down for a nap.”
She visibly swallowed. “That could work, too.”
He smiled behind her back, feeling victorious as she opened the door and reached for Jamie. “Here, let me,” he said, brushing past her. He fumbled with the car seat’s clasps.
“Like I said, the car seat is a beast.” She hovered behind him.
“I got it,” he growled, pushing the buttons without any luck.
“Do you want me to do it?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Why did she sound so pleased? He clicked the buttons and the straps fell away. He eased Jamie out of his car seat. The baby felt warm and soft in his arms.
“Here.” Sophie tucked a blanket around the still-sleeping Jamie. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take him?”
“We’re fine.” He strode toward the house.
Sophie trotted beside him in her dress and low-heeled shoes. “It’s just if he wakes up and sees you he might be scared.”
“Because I’m so scary?” he said, his lips quirking. He didn’t know whether to laugh at her or toss her over the cliff.
“Well, yes.”
“Really?”
“He doesn’t know you.”
“He soon will,” Luke said, and even to himself this sounded more like a threat than a promise.
#
Sophie didn’t want to be intimidated by Luke’s aunt’s house, but she was. She had known Matt and Luke were from a wealthy family, but she hadn’t realized… A small gasp escaped her lips when she saw the closest house on the bluff. “Is that…?”
“Yes, Wendy Shorr’s house.”
“The writer. Have you seen her?”
He nodded. “She’s terribly reclusive, but she has nine children who are anything but.”
“Do you know them?”
He smiled. “Yep. You’ll like them. A few of them will probably be here today.”
Sophie’s steps faltered. She didn’t belong here. But this was Jamison’s family. She couldn’t keep him away from them. It wouldn’t be fair to him or them. But what if one day Jamison chose them over her? She shook herself, knowing that he would never have to make such a choice.
But what if he did?
She tripped over a rock. Luke’s hand shot out to grab her elbow and steady her.
“You okay?”
That was a very good question. Heat radiated from his hand and sent tingles up her arm. She pulled away from him. “It’s the shoes,” she told him. Although it really wasn’t. In her law office, she’d worn these shoes all day, every day. Her feet were practically as accustomed to them as they were to her toenails.
Aunt Lola lived in a soft gray clapperboard house with white trim. A few twisted Monterrey pines dotted the property. In the spring, there would probably be a carpet of California poppies covering the lawn. But now, the November sky matched the color of the house and the long stretch of ocean beyond it. Smoke curled from the brick chimney.
“You should see this place at Christmastime,” Luke said. “Uncle Theo strings lights everywhere.”
“Is that Lola’s husband?”
He nodded. “I know what you’re thinking—he’s too old to be climbing up ladders—but…” His words died mid-sentence when the front door flew open and his little sister, Mia, flung herself at Luke before catching sight of Jamison in his arms. She pulled herself to a halt inches in front of him and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. A stunning blonde Sophie didn’t recognize trailed behind. She also kissed Luke on the cheek, but took a longer time to do it than his sister.
“Luke!” Mia whisper-yelled.
“Mia, why aren’t you in school?” Concern wrinkled Luke’s brow.
Mia shot a conspiratorial look at her friend. “We came down for the weekend. Paige drove. You didn’t think I’d miss Aunt Lola’s birthday, did you?”
“Or the chance to see you?” Paige added.
Mia’s gaze flicked over Sophie. “Oh hi, Sophie. How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“You must have come with Jamie. I wish I was closer so I could help more.”
“We’re doing fine,” Sophie told her.
Mia wrinkled her nose. “But it’ll be better now that Luke’s home.”
Paige gave Sophie a cold, assessing glance. “You must be Chloe’s sister. Funny, you look nothing like her.”
“You met Chloe?”
Paige nodded. “A few times.”
Mia linked her arm through Paige’s and gave her friend a squeeze. “Paige is a long-time friend.” Mia winked at Luke. “She’s practically family.”
They climbed the stairs to the front porch. Luke held open the door for Mia, Paige, and Sophie. A crowd of people filled the living room. Platters of cut-up fruit, vegetables, finger sandwiches, and a giant birthday cake sat on the dining room table. A sparking fire cast a warm glow over the room.
Aunt Lola, whom Sophie dimly remembered meeting at the funeral through her grief-induced haze, sat in a wingback chair beside the fireplace. Dressed head to toe in black, she looked like a gray-headed spider. She held out her arms as soon as she spotted Luke. “Give me that poor orphaned baby.”
Sophie bit back her objection, wanting to say that Jamison was sleeping and would for sure be cranky when he woke, as Luke eased Jamison off his shoulder and handed him to Lola.
Jamison woke with a start, caught sight of Lola’s long gray hair and wizened face and let out a howl. He reached his pudgy arms for Sophie. Sophie moved to his rescue but Lola was faster. She snatched the baby and plunked him in her lap.
Jamison squirmed and twisted in an effort to escape.
Sophie moved to scoop him up, but Lola angled away. “I got him. He needs to learn to appreciate who butters his bread.”
Sophie froze. “Butters his bread?”
“Pays for his education,” Lola said.
“His education? He’s six months old.”
“He’ll go to Harmon’s Academy, of course.”
“The private school?” Sophie echoed, shooting Luke a quick glance. She wanted to say, I’m the legal guardian so I should have a say in Jamison’s education and I believe in the public school system, but her legal training had taught her the art of diplomacy and the power of patient persuasion. “There’ll be lot of time to talk about his education.”
“I’ve already put his name down on the Bennet’s waiting list.”
“Bennet’s?” Sophie echoed, feeling sick.
“The preschool we attended,” Luke said in her ear.
“We should have registered him as soon as that chit got herself pregnant.”
Did this awful old woman really just call Chloe a chit? Sophie bristled and all her artistic diplomacy and powerful patience flew out the window. Luke must have sensed this, because he put a cautioning hand on Sophie’s arm.
Again with the tingles. They took her so off-guard, her words died before she could share them.
Jamison howled.
“Here, let me,” Luke said, scooping the baby out of Lola’s lap and returning him to Sophie.
Jamison snugged against Sophie with a muffled sob.
“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll fix you a plate of food?” Luke took her elbow and steered her to a down-filled sofa with an incredible ocean view.
Sophie sank down and leaned back, promising herself that she’d leave as soon as the old bat blew out her birthday candles.
“What should I get for Jamie?” Luke hovered above her.
“He doesn’t eat solids yet.”
Luke blinked as if this were news to him. “Of course,” he said quickly, kindly not mentioning last night’s green beans.
Sophie watched as Mia and Paige fluttered around Luke. A number of people Sophie didn’t know also approached Luke to hug him or shake his hand. You would think he was royalty, she thought, rather than the guy who bailed on his nephew after his brother’s death.
I’m here now. Luke’s words cut into her thoughts. But was he really? If he couldn’t be responsible six months ago, there wasn’t any guarantee that he could be responsible now. As Lauren always said, the way you do anything is the way you do everything, and past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. Right now she trusted Luke Mason about as far as she could throw him. And seeing as how he outweighed her by about a hundred pounds, she doubted she’d even be able to lift him an inch. But maybe she could kick him.
He returned with two plates of food.
“Here, let me take Jamie,” Mia said, swooping in and pulling the baby from Sophie’s arms.
Jamison, who was more awake now, didn’t even flinch when Mia balanced him on her hip.
“You are the cutest thing,” Mia crooned.
As Sophie watched Mia walk away with Jamison, she felt her world slipping away from her. Again.
A cheer went up in the other room. Sophie twisted around to see what was going on and was surprised to see an elderly gentleman dragging an extension ladder into the room.
“No one’s going to tell me I’m too old,” he said with a swagger.
That must be Uncle Theo, Sophie thought. Dressed in brown slacks, a red plaid flannel shirt, and work boots, he looked about as old as dirt. He wore a black knit hat that made his hair stand out like horns poking out of the sides of his head.
“I’m going to string me up some Christmas lights!” he announced.
Some people cheered while a few murmured dissents.
“It’s not even December yet!” Lola scoffed.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m stringing ‘em!”
“He’s a fool,” Lola said as soon as her husband stomped out of the room. “Luke! You better go make sure he doesn’t kill himself.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said, grinning. He trotted after his uncle.
Sophie nibbled on her sandwich, watched Mia and Jamison out of the corner of her eye, and tried to disguise her jealousy. Jamison clung to Mia’s shirt and seemed happy enough. Sophie longed to rip him out of the girl’s arms and carry him home. But to what? Here was a large family who could love him. She had only a half-trained puppy.
The puppy! He would need her to let him out. She stood, determined to tell Mia and Luke that she and Jamison needed to go home and rescue Atticus. But where had Mia gone? Sophie wandered through the dining room and into the kitchen. She didn’t find Mia, but she did find a trash can for her paper plate. Through the window, she spotted Luke and Mia along with a small crowd of people standing beside the metal legs of an extension ladder.
Sophie pushed through the back door, headed across the porch, and tripped down the stairs. She gasped in pain as her ankle turned.