the farmer’s market, where I stock up on fresh vegetables and fruits. Ever since I discovered farmer’s markets a few years ago, it’s very hard to go back to grocery store fruit. You don’t even realize how awful it tastes.
“I’ve never seen someone get so excited over a couple of melons,” Luke comments as I’m sifting through a fruit stand. “No wait, I take that back, I have definitely seen someone get that excited over a couple of melons.”
I stick my tongue out at him and he does the same. The breeze has mussed his hair and as I watch, he tugs on his shirt to undo the top button, revealing the tiniest bit of golden chest hair. It’s just so sexy, I can hardly bear it. Why does there have to be a flight of stairs to get up to my apartment? Why?
“I wish there weren’t stairs to get to your apartment,” Luke says, as if reading my thoughts.
“Well,” I say, “maybe I should move.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You’d move for me?”
“I don’t know,” I mumble, my cheeks red. “I might, you know… consider it.”
Luke smiles up at me. “I wouldn’t object to that.”
Although there’s a small part of me that wonders if I wait long enough, a room might come available in a certain house in Lexington.
Chapter 20
Luke and I spend practically every night together over the next month. Generally, we fool around, which consists of either sex or him going down on me, usually the latter, followed by using my mouth on his upper body to pleasure him in some way. Then we get some dinner and cuddle up together watching the news or something.
“Tomorrow evening I’m going to be gone,” Luke says randomly one night as we’re watching the nightly news.
“Why?” I feel a little clingy asking but I can’t help myself. “Meeting?”
“No, I have to go over to my parents for dinner in Weston,” he mumbles.
Luke very rarely mentions his parents. Right away, I’m intrigued. “Do you want me to come?”
“No,” he says quickly. He looks at my face and adds, “It would bore you. I’m mostly going to talk business with my father.”
“Lucas Thayer the Second?” I ask teasingly.
Luke seems confused. “What are you talking about? My father’s name is Thomas.”
Okay, now I’m confused. “I thought you were Lucas Thayer the Third? That’s what you said in college.”
Luke smiles apologetically. “No, I made that up to sound important. My mother was just really into Star Wars when I was born.”
“You’re joking.”
“Afraid not.”
I have to hold a hand over my mouth to stifle laughter. Luke makes a face at me and tries to turn up the volume on the TV, but I grab the remote from him before he has a chance. “So what’s your dad like?” I ask.
“Beats me,” he says. “We don’t talk about anything besides business. Haven’t in years. Maybe ever.”
“Do you have any photos of your parents?”
Luke rolls his eyes. “What is it with women and photos?”
I prod him long enough though and he retrieves a handful of photos of his parents tucked away in a drawer. His father is an imposing man in his sixties with a lot of white hair, a deeply wrinkled face, hollowed cheeks, and a prominent nose. Luke’s mother, on the other hand, appears at least a decade younger and is stunningly beautiful. I guess that’s what money buys you. “You don’t look much like your father,” I remark.
“Yeah, I lucked out,” Luke says with a grin. “People say I look a lot like my mom.”
He does. I always figured Luke inherited the Thayer family good looks, but apparently he just inherited the trophy wife’s good looks.
“So can I come?” I ask.
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
“Because it’s going to be horrible and I don’t want to put you through that.”
“But it’s your family,” I point out. “I want to meet them.”
Luke looks unhappy about it, but he eventually agrees to let me come along to the dinner. I’m nervous but also excited to meet the people who gave birth to Luke Thayer.
_____
The next night, Luke picks me up in his car to drive to his parents’ house out in Weston. Weston is a town west of Boston that boasts the highest per capita income in Massachusetts, so it doesn’t surprise me this is where Luke’s family lives. It doesn’t escape me that Luke lives only a short distance away from them, yet doesn’t see them very often.
I agonize over what to wear. I want to wear something that