Chapter 38

 

 

 

Luke

 

 

It’s been two days since I left Afton to go to work.

Two long days of doing a job that I fucking love.

I’ve been texting her whenever I’ve had the chance. Trying to come up with a time to hang out hasn’t been easy. She’s booked solid with work, including shooting images for the makeover of Calvetti’s menu.

I’m meeting here there now to offer my assistance and hopefully score an invitation back to her place.

I swing open the door to the restaurant to find the woman I’m crazy about sitting at a table with my very available, good-looking cousin.

I’d never admit that last part to Dante’s face, but the truth is undeniably the truth.

“Hey,” I say as I approach them.

“Hey,” Afton parrots with a huge grin on her face.

I’m so goddamn fortunate to be the recipient of that. I lean down to kiss her softly. I sigh when my lips meet hers.

“Hey!” Dante adds in his version of the greeting. It’s laced with fake annoyance. “I’m here too.”

“I know,” I say while keeping my gaze pinned to Afton’s face. “Get lost.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Marti made the introductions. She’s going to want to know that Afton is more than your good friend.”

I know he threw air quotes around the last two words, but I still don’t glance in his direction.

How can I?

Afton is dressed in a jean shirt and white pants. Her hair is tied back in a low, messy bun.

This woman could wear anything and look fantastic.

Her beauty has nothing to do with the clothes on her back or the makeup on her face. It radiates from within her, and I’m the lucky bastard she can’t take her eyes off of.

“Lucas!” Marti’s voice draws my gaze up finally.

I spot my grandmother on the approach from the kitchen with a plate of food in her hand. That’s not the least bit surprising. I’ve never made it out of here without a full stomach.

I snag the chair next to Afton and sit myself down. Her hand immediately finds my thigh. Even through the denim that’s covering it, I can feel the warmth of her touch.

“I made penne just the way you like it.” Marti sets a big bowl of pasta in front of me. “Eat.”

“What about me?” Dante asks from where he’s sitting. “I got a day old breadstick and warm coffee.”

Marti winks at him. “Your favorite is in the oven. I can’t whip that up at a moment’s notice.”

I take in the scene around me. I’ve got my family nearby and the woman I’m falling in love with by my side. If this isn’t what people mean when they say they are living the life, I don’t know what is.

 

***

 

Afton was quiet the entire time she was shooting at Calvetti’s. I offered to help, but since the kitchen was teeming with employees, Marti shooed me out with a pat on the ass.

Once we left there, we headed back to Afton’s place. I offered to take her home with me, but she wanted to upload the shots she took to an online gallery so that Marti could take a look when she has a minute.

They aren’t the finished product of what will make it to the website. Afton explained that they’re preliminary shots so she can gauge what appeals to my grandmother.

She’s putting a hell of a lot of effort into a job that isn’t going to pay her much.

I watch as she takes a drink from a glass of water. She offered me one, but I passed.

I’m more interested in what’s got her in knots than I am in quenching my thirst. I can only do that with her. I’ve been thinking about taking her to bed all day.

I approach where she’s standing. “Afton?”

Her gaze darts to me. “Yes?”

Scrubbing a hand over the back of my neck, I clear my throat. “Something’s up. I can feel it.”

She scratches the side of her nose. “No. I’m fine. Everything is good.”

If that’s not a load of bullshit, I don’t know what is. “Don’t do that with me.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Pretend that you’re all right when you’re not.” I move to stand next to her. “I know something is eating at you. I’m a great listener. My problem solving skills are next level. Try me.”

Confidence is there in my tone, but it’s lacking inside of me.

If her sullen mood is because of the guy she almost married, I want to know what that means for us. Regardless of what might have transpired between them since I last saw her, I know that he’s not the right guy for her.

He can’t be because I am.

Her gaze wanders to the almost complete puzzle on her dining room table. “My folks are coming back to Manhattan soon.”

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. I can deal with parent drama a hell of a lot more skillfully than I can handle ex bullshit. “They’ve been away?”

Taking another sip from the glass in her hand, she nods. “They left right after my wedding. Or non-wedding, I guess.”

She’s told me bits and pieces about their strained relationship. I sense her ditching Warren at the altar wasn’t a decision they’ve stood behind.

“They are coming home, and I need to talk to them.”

I take the glass from her hand because it’s shaking. “You’re nervous about that.”

Her gaze finds mine. I see something in her eyes. I wouldn’t call it defeat. It’s more resignation.

Trailing a hand over her chin, she nods. “I’ve disappointed them in the past.”

“Every kid disappoints their parents.”

She manages a half-smile. “Maybe, but not every kid is a disaster or a walking talking grenade.”

Jesus.

That moves me a step closer to her. “Who said that about you?”

She swallows. “My dad.”

I take her in my arms. “You’re far from any of those things, Afton. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

Holding tightly to me, she draws a deep breath. “They wanted me to marry Warren. When I left the church, they were embarrassed.”

I get that, but you don’t put that at the feet of a child who makes a gut-wrenching decision that will ultimately make their life infinitely better.

I’ve never met Warren, but I can say with certainty that she didn’t belong with him.

I inch her chin up with my fingertip so she can look into my eyes. “You’re the best person I know. You did what was right for you. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Her bottom lip trembles. “I need to hear them out, and then I have to tell them that I made the right decision. I may not have handled it in the best way, but I did make the right decision.”

“You did,” I say softly. “If you want me to tag along to this meet-up, I’m all in.”

Her smile widens. “You do not want to meet my parents.”

“I do.”

“You don’t,” she argues.

“Afton.” I cup her face in my hands. “When you’re ready for it to happen, I want to meet them.”

Her hand reaches up to cover mine. “That means a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me.” I punctuate those words with a press of my mouth to hers for a soft kiss.