Sweetest Mistake (Nolan Brothers #2) (24 page)

Heat zigzagged through her when he leaned close. One hand snuck around and cupped her bottom. His mouth brushed over hers.

Fog mingled in the air between their mouths when she asked, “Will there be more rewards with my next lesson?”

“Lots of rewards.” His grip tightened. “We’re supposed to get five more inches this weekend.”

“I’d say more like seven or eight.”

A growl rumbled in the back of his throat. “Let’s skip dinner.”

She pulled away. “No way. I haven’t eaten in two days. I’m starving.”

Bodies packed the pub when they arrived at Lucky’s. The Friday night crowd was lively, and judging by the amplified music and abundant flirtations, they were well into their after-dinner drinks.

Luke’s palm smoothed over her lower back as he shouldered a path for them through the crowd to two empty stools at the bar. They squeezed in as the bartender slid a pint of Guinness in front of Luke.

Emily ordered a soda and opened a menu, but her queasy stomach couldn’t settle on an acceptable choice and she closed it again. When the bartender returned, Luke ordered soup and a baked potato. Her stomach let loose with a wimpy growl, so she ordered the same.

“It’s important to eat a warm meal after being out in the snow.” He took a sip of his pint.

“Wh-what else do I have to learn before I’m considered an educated Michiganian?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s Michigander.”

“It is?”

“Consider that a bonus lesson.” The soft lights caught the strands of copper threaded through his dark hair. “Let’s see, there’s sledding and snow forts, and of course we have the snow sports to consider: snowmobiling, snowboarding, and skiing.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Cross country or downhill?”

“Both.”

“I’m not exactly athletic.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Anything else?”

“Before it’s over, you’ll be able to name ten different types of snow.”

“There are different types?”

He shook his head. “So, so much to learn.”

A woman’s voice cut into Emily’s laughter.

“Hey, stranger, where have you been?” She slipped her arms around Luke from behind and her smooth dark hair fell over his arm.

A cloud of uneasiness settled around Luke. “Hey, Jenna. How are you?”

“Lonely.” She slid around to stand in front of him, giving her back to Emily.

She had long, slender legs, a tight butt, and—damn it all—thigh gap. What was it with the women on this island? Maybe it was the skiing?

Jenna squeezed between them and Luke scowled at Emily over Jenna’s head.

Emily hid behind her glass. Even in her dark-wash jeans and ivory blazer, next to Jenna’s sparkle, she felt dull and dowdy.

“Where’s Kate?” Jenna asked.

“I’m not here with Kate.” He pulled Jenna’s hands from around his waist. “Jenna, this is Emily. My date.”

Fizzy bubbles caught in Emily’s throat and she coughed when Jenna’s head whipped around. The woman took all of two seconds to size Emily up.

And declare her a non-threat.

She smiled brightly. “Nice to meet you, Emma.”

Emily grunted.

Jenna turned her full wattage back to Luke. “You gonna sing for us later?”

“Not tonight.” His voice sounded strained. “See you around.”

Jenna’s wounded look turned shrewd when her gaze slipped back to Emily. “Yeah, see you around.” She slipped into the crowd.

“So, you and Kate are friends?”

He hesitated, measuring her for a moment. “That’s right.”

She hoped her smile appeared easygoing. “Because it kinda seems like everyone thinks you’re a couple.”

“It was a front.”

She blinked. “Wh-what?”

“The whole thing was an act.” He rolled his shoulders, as if shrugging off an uncomfortable burden. “She was grieving and I wasn’t interested in a relationship. If people thought we were a couple, we didn’t have to deal with the constant barrage from the opposite sex.”

Emily grimaced, though given the way her heart leapt when he referred to her as his date, she should probably be thankful for the reminder of his temporary interest. “A barrage, huh? How awful for you.”

His eyes narrowed. “It was just easier that way.”

Their food came, and just as Luke lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth, a young man with blurry eyes smacked him on the back.

“If it isn’t my favorite doughnut muncher. How the hell you been, man?”

“Hey, Jacob. I’m good. How are you?”

Luke and Jacob talked sports for a bit, and soon two other men joined them. Their conversation wove in and out, touching on each of their lives, before the men drifted away, but before Luke could resume his meal, more people rushed in to fill the space around and between them.

They regaled him with stories and he listened intently to each and every one, interjecting once in a while with a thoughtful comment or an enthusiastic question. For that, they loved him.

Feeling awkward, she shifted uneasily on her barstool.

It was like dating the star quarterback. Unlike other high school girls she’d known, Emily never once dreamed of dating or even becoming friends with the popular kids. From her vantage point, the popular kids were cursed to have everyone’s eyes on them, dissecting their words and scrutinizing the clothes they wore.

But Luke didn’t seem to mind, and indeed, it almost seemed as if he liked being around people.

If she were honest with herself, part of what had attracted her to him was his beauty and charm. Same as every other woman. Hell, even the men were attracted to him, and dogs, most likely.

Her chest twisted with jealousy. He interacted with others so easily and authentically. He didn’t have insecurities—what was there for him to be insecure about?

Although, as she observed him, she noticed that the fine lines around his eyes began to deepen with exhaustion. No one else seemed to notice. Instead, they bought him drinks and badgered him to sing until he gave in to their relentless requests.

When Luke climbed onto the tiny stage in a corner at the front of the pub, a cheer rippled through the crowd. He sat on a barstool with a guitar, and when he strummed the first chords of his song, an immediate quiet fell over the room.

He performed a mix of Irish ballads and pub tunes. In between songs, he exchanged quips with the male audience members and won over every female with his smile and suddenly thick Irish brogue.

Soon, he declared the next song his last for the evening.

A groan of disappointment greeted his announcement.

The chords of a trendy pop melody drifted from his guitar. “I came here to eat, not to subject myself to your ridicule.”

Then he started to sing. His voice, as beautiful as his face, whipped and whirred something inside Emily. He sang to no one and to everyone, of nothing and everything. She began to tremble.

He closed his eyes and his fingers tenderly plucked the guitar strings while pain twisted his features as he gave voice to all the anger and sorrow of loss and grief locked up inside her.

It was all there, the story of her life, in that inane pop song.

She sat helpless and shaking on the barstool while he bared his soul. To an entire room full of people. It was something she could never do. Not ever.

Had there ever been two people more unalike? It was as if they were exact polar opposites.

A vise clamped around her heart. Whatever this thing was between them, Emily hadn’t deluded herself that it had anything resembling forever written on it. But seeing him up there, dazzling a room full of people with nothing more than a smile and a song, she realized just how farfetched the idea of them as a couple truly was.

It was nothing short of ridiculous.

Luke reached the crescendo, and a heart-wrenching softness tinged his voice. He held the note and her heart lodged in her throat. Tears swam before her eyes.

The crowd’s eruption of applause jolted her. She turned away from the stage, devastated. Though she should be grateful she’d realized now how impossible a future would be for them, before she did something stupid like fall in love with him.

The green-eyed man who knew her heart.

His large, warm hand slipped to her waist and his low voice sent shivers up her spine when he spoke in her ear. “You wanna get out of here?”

She nodded because she couldn’t speak and, clutching her purse, shot from the barstool, frantic to be away.

He held the door for her and they burst into the chilly night air. She resisted the urge to melt into his warmth and solidness at her side, to disappear inside him and become a part of his soul.

No, good thing she didn’t love him.

At his SUV, he opened the passenger-side door for her. She climbed into the vehicle.

He stood in the door with a sheepish smile. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t help it that everyone loves you.”

He frowned. “They don’t love me.”

“Yes, they do.” She reached for the door handle, but his grip on the car door remained firm.

“They don’t love me.” A thread of vulnerability disturbed the calm pools of green. “They don’t even know me.” He shut the door on that statement.

As he came around the hood of the car, he turned his head to peer at something in the shadows. He continued to the driver-side door and a blast of cold air swept into the cab with him.

“I’m sorry, but I need to check on something.” He started the car and cranked the heat to full blast. “Can you give me another minute? I swear I’ll be quick.”

“Take y-your time.”

He pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket as he bounded back out into the cold. The phone pressed to his ear, he backtracked down the sidewalk. He tucked the phone away and approached the figure of a man huddled on the ground in the mouth of the alleyway between buildings.

Buried under a heavy winter coat and stocking hat, his bare feet poked out from his too-short pants, exposed to the biting wind.

Emily’s heart constricted. She hadn’t noticed the man huddled there. Was he unwell?

Luke crouched beside him and, gripping his shoulder, gave him a firm shake. Slowly, the man lifted his head.

They talked a moment. Luke gestured toward her in the warm car, as though offering him a ride somewhere.

The man shook his head and his chin dropped to his chest.

Luke roused him once more. As he spoke, he pointed at something in the distance.

The man nodded.

Luke strode to the street corner and crossed the road. In her side mirror, Emily watched him disappear inside the convenience store. She debated going to help, but minutes later, Luke emerged from the store carrying something bulky in one hand. He returned to the sidewalk and stepped into the stream of light from the street lamps.

He crouched before the man again, working the laces on a pair of winter boots.

The man’s head came up when Luke slid a bulky ski sock onto one of his bare feet, and grew more alert as Luke worked the boot onto his foot and tied the laces. Together, they dressed the other bare foot.

Snowdrifts gusted and blew across the sidewalk while they talked another few minutes. A minivan pulled into a parking spot, catching them in the headlights’ beam. A young woman scurried to them. With Luke’s help, she guided the man to his feet and inside the minivan’s passenger-side door.

After a brief exchange, the woman ducked inside the van and Luke made his way back to her.

He fell behind the steering wheel. “Sorry.” Cold radiated off him when he put the car in gear and backed out. “Sorry, that took a little longer than I expected.”

Emily couldn’t speak past the emotion clogging her throat, so she shook her head and turned her face to the glass.

It was many long moments before she found her voice. “Y-you offered him a ride?”

He rolled his shoulders, as if to throw off the heaviness trying to cling to him. “He refused me. He always does.”

“You know him?”

“He’s sort of the town drunk.” Green eyes touched her face and then darted back to the windshield. “Like my dad was, when he was alive.”

The car’s headlights touched snowcapped sand dunes alongside the road as they passed by.

“That’s why they all love y-you, and they’re right to do so.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed and her eyes moved to the strong column of his throat.

She wanted to lay her head on his shoulder and hug him. To touch warm skin and breathe in his spicy scent, which teased her senses even now.

She wanted to love him.

She
did
love him.

Another wave of nausea rolled through her.

L
uke yanked open the station door and tore through the glass-walled vestibule.