He was nearly finished with his own steak. "Yeah, I told them."
The waitress arrived with her wine, and Ava thanked her. "How did they respond?" she asked when the woman was gone.
"They're supportive. I have great parents."
"You're lucky," she said, and she meant it. But she would've expected nothing less. This man had it all.
"How did you come to be living on a houseboat?" he asked.
She tasted her steamed vegetables and found them bland after all the other flavors. "It belongs to my father. Carly doesn't like to fish, and since she won't let him go anywhere without her, he doesn't have much use for it right now. I suggested he sell it, but I think he realizes this marriage might not make it, either, and then he'l want it back."
"He's planning for failure?"
She rested her knife on the edge of her plate. "Just keeping his track record in mind."
"I see." He dipped some more bread in the oil-and-balsamic mixture.
"Meanwhile, you take care of the boat for him."
"Yes, but I benefit from the arrangement, too. As you might've guessed, the work I do doesn't pay a lot, so it helps to have free rent. I consider it his contribution to the cause."
"Living alone and in such a remote location doesn't bother you?"
"I'm not alone all that often."
"Right. You've got those two couples who dock their boats near yours some of the time."
"Most of the time."
The waitress came by, carrying a tempting array of sweets. She told them to save room for dessert. Luke promised her they would, then when she moved on, he said, "How close is your boat to that gas station?"
"About a mile."
He wiped his mouth with his napkin. "You walked a mile to meet me?"
"The delta's a maze. You never would've found it, otherwise."
He offered her another piece of bread, but she declined. "Where are all the rest?"
"Rest of what?"
"Houseboats. I didn't see a single one after I turned off Highway 12."
"Various places."
"Then why not dock yours with some of them until your friends return?"
"I don't mind being alone occasionally. I get to see more wildlife that way."
"Sounds romantic," he said.
"It is romantic. You should watch the sun come up through my bedroom window." She'd said it impulsively and, thanks to the wine, probably a little too passionately. Sunrise really was her favorite part of living in the delta and on the water. But her words sounded like an invitation. He raised his head and stopped chewing.
"Sorry, that came out wrong," she said with an awkward laugh and focused on cutting another bite of her steak.
"You didn't mean it in a personal way."
"No, of course not."
"Right," he said. "I understood that." But she got the feeling he'd wondered, just for a second--that the image of them together had zipped through his brain--and it reminded her why she shouldn't take his case. If she wasn't careful, she'd wind up in bed with this man. Not only did that break the charity's cardinal rule about not getting involved with clients, it threatened Ava on a whole new level. Because, for the first time in her life, she'd met someone capable of breaking her heart, and she knew it.
Chapter 18
Ava wasn't going to take Luke's case. She'd made the decision. Now she just needed to figure out how to tell him. Maybe she could ask Skye or Sheridan to work with him instead. That would be a reasonable compromise, wouldn't it?
But she knew part of the reason he'd offered such a large donation was because she'd already shown him how single-minded she could be.
Her job was her life. Skye and Sheridan were equally devoted, but these days they split their time between work and home. They had husbands, families. Last week Sheridan had announced that she was pregnant, so she wouldn't be putting in as many hours as she was now. Skye and Sheridan had all the cases they could handle, anyway. Hadn't they, just this morning, discussed the fact that they needed help?
They'd chosen Jane to be that help, but Ava couldn't turn Luke's case over to Jane.
"What are you thinking?" Luke asked. Although they'd talked a lot during dessert, mostly about what he'd find in his file, they'd ridden in silence since getting back in the car.
"Nothing," she said, but she remembered Luke walking her out of the restaurant with his hand lightly touching her back, the envious glance she'd received from the waitress, the way he'd opened her car door and handed her the leftover steak she'd had the waitress box up. He did it all so smoothly, so naturally, as if he'd do it for anyone. And he probably would.
Which was what made it hard to object. She'd tried to pay for her own dinner, but the waitress listened only to Luke and wouldn't take her money.
Ava had also tried to sidestep his hand at her back and open her door, but he kept her so busy talking that before she knew it she was letting him put her in his car as if this had been a date.
It wasn't a date. It was a business meal, she told herself. But it sure felt good to let a man take charge for once. Especially a man this capable.
Of course, it would be even more enjoyable if she wasn't so preoccupied with how to get him out of her life.
"You're not going home to work, are you?" he asked.
"No, I'm too tired." They'd eaten so much she was sure she wouldn't be hungry for a week. But it had tasted better than her usual fare. Because she spent so much of her time immersed in her cases, she rarely cooked.
She usually settled for an energy bar or a sandwich.
Not long after they'd left the restaurant, he noticed some fireworks in the sky and suggested they pull off the main thoroughfare to watch. He'd teased her that she could afford the time if she wasn't going to work, and she was feeling too good to resist the suggestion.
Careful not to stand too close to him, she leaned against his car, just as he was doing, while the finale of some Independence Day show exploded overhead. The spectacular display capped an enjoyable evening.
Despite her initial reluctance, Ava felt so satisfied and mellow that she had difficulty summoning the courage to tell Luke she didn't want to take him on as a client. But she was about to broach the subject when he noticed the goose bumps on her arms and insisted she put on a sweatshirt he took from his gym bag.
As she pulled it on over her head, she was enveloped in soft fleece that smelled exactly like him. And when he rolled the sleeves past her hands, she finally gave up on the idea of backing out. She didn't relish the thought of dealing with McCreedy--or even being perceived to be on the same side--but for ten thousand dollars she could make it work. In any event, she couldn't refuse Luke. Not when it came to taking his case. And, judging by the flutter in her stomach as his fingertips brushed her wrists, maybe not if it came to other, more personal requests.