I shake my head. “I don’t think I could. I slept like the dead last night. Besides, now I’m wide awake.”
Lukas grins at me. “Shower?”
“Yes, please!”
We take our time in the shower, partly because Lukas insists that he should get to wash me and can’t be hurried. I don’t mind. And I take my time polishing his tattoos. His body is a work of art. Every time I look at his ink, there’s more to appreciate and underneath it… whew. His broad powerful frame makes me feel delicate next to him and that’s not something I’m used to. My dad always said I came from “solid Midwest working stock” just like him. I don’t think he meant it to be hurtful, but no teenage girl likes being compared to cattle. I was always thicker than my wispy mother, and he never let me forget it.
It’s hard to feel bad about myself right now. Not when a man as sexy as Lukas watches me like he can’t get enough. I swear his hands never leave my body. He performs his entire morning routine with half his body. The other half is stroking my hip, running a hand over my back, or grabbing my butt. My favorite might be the way he tugs my hair a little each time he kisses me. It’s just a playful little thing, but it stirs all kinds of filthy memories.
We drive over to the bakery for breakfast because Lukas seems to be as bad as I am about picking up groceries. He’s also stubborn as hell about the truck. No matter how many times I tell him I should get a rental, he won’t hear of it.
“I don’t need it. I never drive it in the summer,” he argues as I park in the lot down the road from my store. “Besides, I like watching you drive it. It’s sexy as hell.”
“I’m starting to think you feel that way about most of the things I do,” I tease back.
He tugs one of my curls and leans in so I can feel his warm breath on my lips. “Then you’re paying attention, Freckles.” He smirks a little when I shiver.
Lukas wraps a hand around my waist as we walk into the bakery and I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about how Lilah will react. We left everything on a good note yesterday, but this is the first time I’ve been out in public with Lukas, our yelling match on the street yesterday excluded. Just thinking about that makes me wince.
He stands behind me while we wait in line, yanking my card out of my hand when I try to pay and handing the cashier his card instead.
“Thanks Ashley,” he says, grinning at my scowl.
We wander over to the dining area and claim a small table before he heads back to pick up our food. I’m relieved when we make it all the way through our coffee and muffins and it’s still just the two of us. The easy intimacy between us makes me feel like I’ve known him for years and as much as I love his sisters, I wouldn’t give this feeling up for anyone.
“Are you busy Friday night?” Lukas asks over his cup of coffee.
“No… but I know you have your family dinner. I can meet you after or—”
“Or you can come with me,” he interrupts.
“You don’t have to—”
“Parker,” he interrupts again, leaning forward with a sweet, crooked smile. “Eventually you’re going to realize that I like being with you, and then you’re going to feel really silly for trying to talk me out of this.”
“Sorry,” I laugh softly. I’m not used to feeling wanted like this. I have a lifetime of conditioning that’s telling me to stay out of the way. “I would like to go with you.”
His grin grows, lighting up his face. “Good.”
“If we’re going to be together that night, I feel like I should tell you Friday is my birthday,” I tell him with a wince. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. I just felt wrong not saying anything…”
“Seriously?” he asks, eyebrows scrunched. “What were you going to do if we weren’t together?”
I shrug. “Not much. It’s not a big deal.”
Lukas’ eyes narrow as he looks at me, his smile vanishing. “Shot in the dark here, but I’m guessing your parents weren’t big birthday party types.”
Not for the first time, a cold weight settles in my stomach at the thought of my birthday. Middle River wasn’t exactly a hotbed of Pinterest-worthy kid’s parties, but I know most of the kids got presents, pizza, and cake. My mom would sometimes cook a meal I liked on my birthday. Presents weren’t a thing. I was told that we celebrated accomplishments, not the arbitrary day we were born.
I try to smile at Lukas while I shake my head but end up mostly just pressing my lips together. “It’s fine. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“For the record, I don’t think I like your parents,” he says through tight lips.
I shrug and give him a little laugh. “That’s ok. I don’t like them either, and it’s not like they’ll be a part of my life anymore.” That thought cheers me up considerably. I never have to go back and the odds of them bothering to look me up, let alone contact me, are precisely a snowball’s chance in hell.
Lukas takes my hand in his, pressing my knuckles to his lips and holding them there as he looks at me for a long second. It’s a gesture filled with so much sweet affection that it makes my breath hitch.
My heart pounds when he looks at me like that and I realize that it’s not just chemistry or shallow lust. I’m in love with him. As crazy as it sounds, I feel it in every cell of my body. I’m in love with Lukas Donovan... and I’m in way over my head.