Lukas(27)

“Lukas . . .” I can’t lie to him. He’s way too honest to be fed lies to. I refuse to not acknowledge the immense good I see in him, even after only a few hours of talking. “You are an amazing guy. Really. In a different time or place . . . I would be jumping up and down over you. I felt it, too. As much as I was excited about the tattoo, I was equally excited to see you again. There’s something very special about you. But . . . I’m a mess.” I shrug and his smile slowly fades, as I’m sure mine is, as well. “I just can’t have any more complications in my life right now. I have to get my life together and take care of my kids. I am in no position to be doing this with someone like you.”

He flinches. “Someone like me?”

I touch his arm and shake my head. “I meant young like you. We’re in totally different places in life.”

“I was in your place in life a long time ago, Ivy. Way before I should have been. Don’t judge me by my age or think I’m some immature kid.”

“I know you’re not. I can see that. Trust me.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and shakes his head. “I’m not going to keep you here to argue this out. I know you have to go, and I don’t want your daughter to be worried.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. “Drive safe, and I’ll see you at your next appointment.” I breathe in the scent of him before he pulls away. He smells so good—a mix of incense from the shop and his cologne.

“Thank you for dinner,” I murmur. “I really enjoyed talking with you and getting to know you.”

“Same here, Sunshine. You have no idea how much. My dinner invitation stands—any time you’re ready to accept it.”

I get in my car and watch him walk around to the other side of the building, away from the shop entrance, so I assume the door to his apartment must be over there. Squinting in the dark, I see there is a balcony off the side of the building that I didn’t notice before. A new light turns on upstairs, and he walks by the window, pulling his shirt over his head. Even in the shadows, I can see how muscular he is. Great, Ivy. Don’t be a voyeur now, on top of everything else.

Regret fills me as the light goes out, and I wonder if he’s in his bed right now, if he’s thinking about me. I wish I could have gone upstairs with him and spent more time with him. Somehow, he makes everything feel better. Even just talking to him, I felt relaxed, happy, more myself. More like the girl I used to be . . . Like Charlene is now, as Paul so aptly pointed out. At least I don’t scrape plaque for a living, Charlene.

And guess what else, Charlene. Paul will never kiss you the way Lukas just kissed me. That much I know without a doubt.

I start my car and turn the heat on, giving it a few minutes to warm up. I’m still breathless and reeling from his kisses and feeling his hard body pressing against mine. My panties are wet from wanting him so much. As I stare up at his window, my mind wanders to the feel of his piercings against my soft flesh, and now I know why some women squeal over men with piercings. What that must feel like in other places . . .

My cell phone rings, the noise scaring me out of my daydream. I dig it out of my purse and see it’s my home number on the caller I.D.

“Hi, Macy,” I answer cheerfully.

“Mom, where are you? It’s after ten.” Role reversal can happen so unexpectedly.

“I know, honey. I’m so sorry,” I say, flustered. “My appointment lasted longer than I expected. I’m on my way home. I’ll be there in less than half an hour.” I pull out of the parking lot, hoping Lukas doesn’t see I was still sitting in my car watching his windows.

“Well, why did I have to come home if you were staying out late?” my daughter demands. “I could have stayed out with my friends longer.”

Jesus. My first night out after dark practically, and I’m already battling with my teenager.

“Because you’re supposed to be home at ten. That’s why.”