“C’mon. You want to get eaten alive?” Luke pulled Rusty to her feet, grabbed the blanket, thermos and duffel bags and made a bee-line for the fence. Rusty held his hand tightly as she chased after him. She was barely able to run through the thick snow drifts that reached her calves. She didn’t hear any dogs barking, so they were still relatively safe. Another twenty yards or so to the fence.
Suddenly she pulled her hand free, stopped and turned to look behind her. “We have to wait for Jeremy,” she said breathlessly. “He still has his skates on.”
And he wasn’t running after them, either. “Jeremy!” she shouted, but he only waved them on, taking his time skating to the edge of the bank where he’d left his boots.
Luke tugged at her sleeve. “C’mon, run!”
She shrugged free. “We can’t leave him. What about the dogs?” She started back toward the pond. “Jeremy!” she called out again, shifting her eyes anxiously between the woman standing on the porch and her brother-to-be, sitting casually on the ground, unlacing his skates.
“You and Luke go ahead,” he shouted. “I’ll meet you at the truck as soon as I get my boots on.”
Why wasn’t he concerned about the dogs? she wondered. Did he want to get eaten alive? And why wasn’t Luke hurrying him along?
She spun around to see Luke coming her way. “Go get him, Luke Galloway!” She pointed her finger at his face. “If that boy gets attacked by those rabid, man-eating dogs, I’ll never forgive you!”
“There aren’t any dogs,” he said calmly with a hint of a smile curling at his lips.
Before she had a chance to argue with him, she heard the woman call out again. “Is that you, Luke? You and Jeremy?”
“Yes, Ma’am!” Luke waved at the woman.
Jeremy stood up, waved his hands over his head. “Hi, Mrs. Smith.”
“You boys get in here out of the cold. And bring that young lady with you. I’ll make some hot chocolate.” With that said, she slipped inside the house and banged the door shut, leaving the porch light on in invitation.
Rusty stared first at Luke, then at Jeremy. They’d played her for a fool. Angling her head at Luke, she asked, “Does Mrs. Smith always invite you two inside for hot chocolate when you’re through skating?”
He shrugged, bit at his lip, probably to keep from laughing at her. “Most of the time.”
“You lied to me. You said she put that fence up to keep everyone out.”
“Everyone but us. She likes Jeremy and me. She’s the one who taught me to make hot chocolate. And she makes the best oatmeal raisin cookies I’ve ever had.”
Rusty’s breath came out on a noisy sigh. “If she doesn’t mind that you skate on her pond, then why in the heck did we have to climb that fence?”
Luke grinned, and moved to stand toe to toe with her. “We didn’t, but sneaking is part of the fun.” He winked at her, deliberately trying to throw her off balance, she figured.
She was going to kill him. As soon as she decided how, she was definitely going to kill him.
“You look cute when you’re mad, Princess.” He skimmed his thumbs over her cheeks, kissed the tip of her cold nose. His eyes burned with heated desire when he whispered, “When I get you home, I’m going to make love to you.”
LUKE DIDN’T BOTHER TO KNOCK, just opened the back door and walked inside the Smith home as if he’d done so hundreds of times. Jeremy and Rusty followed.
“Don’t be tracking up my clean floor,” was Mrs. Smith’s gruff greeting. “Take off those boots and coats and leave them by the door.”
Rusty measured the woman. The sparkle in her blue gray eyes told her that had they messed up her shiny kitchen floor, she wouldn’t have minded at all.
She assessed the woman’s kitchen briefly. The table had already been set with cups and saucers in anticipation of their visit. A plate piled high with cookies-she assumed were oatmeal raisin-decorated the center. The room was warm and toasty and smelled of freshly, baked bread. Already Rusty’s toes were beginning to thaw. The cupboards were painted a gleaming white, and there wasn’t a crumb in sight, which said a lot about the proud owner of this home.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” the woman barked. “Come sit down.”
Rusty turned to glance back at Luke and Jeremy, smiled and then stepped forward. “Hello, Mrs. Smith. I’m Rusty Paris.” She held out her hand in greeting.
The gray haired woman brushed her hand away. “We’re not that formal around here. Besides, I already know who you are.”
“You do?” She studied the bulky woman, trying to figure out if she should know her for some reason.
“Of course. You’re the spitting image of your father. You were just a little thing when I last saw you. But you haven’t changed much. Still scrawny as ever, I see.” She pushed Rusty toward the table. “Go sit down. Eat some of my cookies. Maybe they’ll fatten you up some.”
Rusty closed her mouth and sat.
“And you two,” she said sternly, scowling at Jeremy and Luke. “Where have you been? An old woman could die out here and no one would know. My front walk could use some shoveling. Can’t git out to git the mail, you know.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Why hasn’t your nephew taken care of it?”
She waved a hand, pivoted around and went to the stove. “Steve’s in Florida. Won’t be back for another week.” She picked up a wooden spoon from the counter, stuck it in the sauce pan and stirred.
“You should have called me,” Luke told her. “Tell you what. After we finish our hot chocolate and cookies, Jeremy and I will take care of it for you.”
“Only if you have marshmallows,” Jeremy teased. He came and sat in the chair next to Rusty’s.
When Luke and Mrs. Smith joined them at the table, Rusty smiled politely and helped herself to a cookie. One wouldn’t hurt. And besides, she was a little hungry after her skating ordeal.
Luke didn’t ask if she wanted marshmallows in her hot chocolate, but simply reached into the plastic bag and tossed a heaping handful into her cup.
She could feel watching her while they sipped at their drinks and ate. And she avoided looking at him as much as possible. He made her nervous, and what was worse was that he knew it. He’d said he was going to make love to her when they got home. And they’d be home soon.
She really had nothing to be afraid of. It wasn’t as if she were a virgin. She was experienced and acutely aware of the way things worked between men and women.
Except, she could count her former lovers on one hand. Two fingers to be exact. The first time she’d only been nineteen. And he’d been as nervous and inexperienced as her. Their relationship had lasted for nearly six months before he admitted he was too young to be involved with just one woman and wanted to move on.
The second time had been five years later with a man much older than her. Not that forty was old, but compared to her twenty-four years at the time, it had seemed that way. They’d dated for months before she’d finally consented to sleep with him. She’d expected him to take his time, to teach her some things. But instead, he’d crawled on top of her, grunted twice and that was that. The whole incident had left her feeling insecure and ashamed. She’d ended the affair the very next day.
And now, Luke wanted to make love to her. She had no doubt that he’d know exactly what to do. She’d already had a taste of what it would be like with him. He could make her turn to a puddle of liquid just by looking at her. She could only imagine what it would be like to have him deep inside of her, whispering sexually charged words in her ear.
But what if she couldn’t please him? What if he found her awkward and boring? How did someone learn about those things? It wasn’t as if there was some course at a local university.
Perhaps she should just tell him the truth. I don’t have much experience in matters such as these. No, that would sound just plain stupid.
Maybe she should tell him she didn’t want to make love with him. That she found him repulsive and ugly, that she didn’t want his work- roughened hands on every inch of her skin, his warm lips on her mouth or a few other places. No, that wouldn’t work either. He’d take one look at her and know she was lying.
“Rusty,” Luke said, interrupting her thoughts. She shifted her gaze around the table. Everyone stared at her.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” She prayed her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.
Angling his head, Luke said, “I said Jeremy and I are going to go out to shovel the walk. How about keeping Mrs. Smith company?” He scraped his chair back.
“Oh, I’d be delighted.” She smiled brilliantly for the woman.
Once Luke and Jeremy were gone, she let loose a sigh of relief.
“So, how long have you two been involved?”
“Ex …” Rusty cleared her throat and tried again. “Excuse me?”
“You and Luke? He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. And you,” she said, pointing a brittle finger at Rusty’s face, “you try to act coy, like you’re not interested. Well, you don’t fool me.” Her eyes were bright with interest. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she said a little too briskly. “I mean, I don’t think so.”
“But you’re not sure, I can tell.”
Rusty laughed. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think it would be appropriate conversation for your kitchen table.”
Mrs. Smith raised her fuzzy gray eyebrows. “Oh, so it has to do with sex.”
Rusty nearly choked. She grabbed another cookie from the plate, took a huge bite. In between bites, she managed, “These are so delicious. Luke said you made the best cookies, and he was right.” She desperately needed to change the subject. “Your cupboards look freshly painted. Did your nephew help you?”
“Nope. Luke did them last fall.”
Great. They were back to Luke. “What part of Florida is your nephew visiting?”
“Orlando. Took the wife and kids to Disney World or is it Disney Land. I always git those two confused.”
“I believe it’s Disney World.”
Nodding, Mrs. Smith smiled at her. “He’s a good man. They don’t come any finer.”
“Your nephew?”
She laughed. “You’re a shrewd one, Rusty Paris. You knew darn well I was talkin’ about Luke.”
“He’s an ex-con.” She didn’t know what had made her say that. Maybe because she was looking for an excuse not to make love with him. But still, it wasn’t fair to blurt out something like that. The poor woman probably didn’t even know. “I’m sorry. That was careless of me and inexcusable.”
“He was just a boy. Barely eighteen when all that happened.”
So, she had known.
“He paid for that mistake. Two years of his life. It’s over.”
Rusty felt miserable. She felt her tongue go thick. “What happened?”
“Luke should be the one to tell you. I don’t like spreading gossip.”
“I understand.” She looked at the older woman, apologetically. “I think sometimes he wants me to think the worst of him. In fact, he practically bragged to me about being a car thief.”
Clucking her tongue, she sighed. “That sounds like Luke.” She picked up her cup and drank from it. “It was the night of his high school graduation,” she began. “He and some other boys got a little rowdy, drank a few beers. He and his mama and step daddy had just moved here from Texas, and Luke, to rebel had become friends with the wrong crowd. Then one of them had this brilliant idea about borrowing a car from someone. That someone was Luke’s mama’s current husband. Luke’s step daddy, Randy Hastings. A mean son of a bitch, pardon my French.” She picked up a cookie, broke it in half, and dunked it into her cup. “They didn’t mean to steal the car, just wanted to take it for a little spin. They planned to return it before anyone was the wiser, but they ran out of gas about five miles from Luke’s house. Thinking he was doing the right thing, Luke went home and confessed.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. What happened?”
“Randy had it in for Luke. Never liked the boy. Randy’s uncle was a judge. They told the other boys if they said it was Luke’s idea to steal the car, they’d drop the charges against them, and only Luke would pay. Well, I don’t have to tell you what happened. He’s been paying ever since.”
“But it was his first offense.” She defended him, knowing in her heart that it was true.
“Nobody ever said life was fair.”
Rusty felt sick inside. Two years in prison just because of a stupid mistake. “Didn’t his mother try to defend him?”
Mrs. Smith smiled sadly. “Nope. She did not.”
Now she simply felt angered by the injustice of it all. And sorry for Luke. “Thank you for telling me. You said he’s been paying ever since. What did you mean by that?”
“I think I’ve said enough. Luke should be the one to tell you about Christine. And he will, when he’s ready.”
Christine? It was the first time she’d heard the name. Was she an ex-wife or ex-girlfriend? Was Luke over her or still in love with her? Before she could give it any more thought, Luke and Jeremy were back. For now, she’d put it out of her mind. Just for now.
Once again, they bumped down the road. Rusty sat sandwiched between Luke and Jeremy until they pulled up in front of the Meyers’ house.
Jeremy opened the passenger door, flooding the truck’s interior with light. “See ya, Luke. Goodnight, Rusty,” he said, then leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Rusty smiled at his retreating form as she watched him scurry up the front porch steps. He was going to be her brother, and she liked the idea. A lot.
She looked over to see Luke’s watchful eyes. “I had fun tonight.”
“I’m glad, Princess.”
He began backing out of the drive, one hand on the wheel, the other draped casually across the back of the seat. His fingers brushed her shoulder. She hadn’t realized she still sat next to him. Reaching for her seat belt, she said, “I’ll just slide over and give you some room.”
He gave her shoulder a small squeeze. “Stay right there. Please.”
And she did. They didn’t talk much on the drive home. She was too nervous to talk. Once inside the house, Luke went through the rooms, turning off lights, checking the locks on the doors. Jack greeted them with a couple quick thumps of his tail.
Rusty started for Sam’s room. “I’m going to let Sam know we’re back, see if he needs anything.”
“I’ll check on him. You go on upstairs.”