Kathryn Shay - Back To Luke

“Jayne Logan.” They shook. “Jess and I were in college together.”

His brow furrowed. “Did he know you were comin’?”

She shook her head. “I should have called.” Now what was she going to do?

“You know his mom, Eleanor?”

“Yes, very well, as a matter of fact.”

“She’s still livin’ up on Fifth Street. Might be nice for you to go see her. She’s probably lonely for Jess. They took the girls out of school early for a two-week trip.”

As she often did, Jayne wondered what it would be like to live in a small town and have everybody know your business.

“I’d love to see Eleanor.” She reached for her phone. “Oh, wait, I don’t have her number in my contacts list.”

“I think she uses her cell now.”

“Eleanor has a cell phone?” Jayne couldn’t picture the older woman with modern technology.

“Yeah, no grass grows under her feet. You know the address?”

Never would Jayne forget the house Eleanor lived in. A stately three-story structure, it sported slate-blue siding, black shutters and huge porches that wrapped around the back and sides. And there were those beautiful gardens. Eleanor had taught Jayne everything she knew about growing things, and Jayne had missed the flowers and digging in the dirt when she’d moved to California, where she only had time for work and sleep. “Yes, I know where Eleanor lives.”

The trip over to Chestnut Street and up to Fifth took only ten minutes. As she caught sight of the house, a rush of emotion flooded her. The place was as beautiful as ever, but something else caused her heart to swell and tears to spring to her eyes—memories of the time she’d spent here in Eleanor’s loving care, having in Jess the brother she’d always wanted. Since they’d both been only children, Jess had felt the same way about her.

She parked at the curb, exited the car and hurried up a walkway flanked by pink and purple crocuses and sunny daffodils. For a minute, she just stood in front of the double front oak doors and laid her hand on the smooth, cool wood. Then she pressed the bell.

No answer.

Damn it.

Again, she rang.

Still, no answer. But contrary to Jess’s house, this place was open and alive. Windows were raised on all three floors, allowing in the air, which in her mind had always meant the house was breathing in and out.

Maybe Eleanor was in the back, working in the gardens. She followed the brick path around to the rear and more of the flowers came into view, startling Jayne for a moment. So many colors. So many different varieties. Her favorites had always been the summer wildflowers, but Eleanor preferred the roses. Because it was April, other plants bloomed now. Jayne couldn’t remember all their names but did recognize the snapdragons and the purple and white irises. The blossoms filled the air with sweet perfume like nothing man could manufacture in a lab.

Eleanor wasn’t working on the beds, and though the shed door was ajar, Jayne didn’t see anyone inside. She glanced up at the back porch. The door to the kitchen was open to the screen. With more anticipation than she’d had for anything in a long time, she climbed the steps and called out, “Eleanor, are you in there?”

No one responded. Jayne put her hand on the knob and had pulled the screen open a few inches when she heard behind her, “Hey there, darlin’, what are you doing?”

The deep rumble of a male voice startled her and she jumped back as if she were breaking and entering. Her heart beating at a clip, she pivoted to find a man at the bottom of the steps. A big, half-naked man.

She was standing in the shadows, and he was in the bright sunlight, so it took a minute for her eyes to adjust. Oh, God, it was Luke Corelli! Someone she’d known a lifetime ago.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” His eyes narrowed. She couldn’t see their color, but she knew they were brown, deep and rich to match the mane of dark hair on his head and whorls of it on his bare chest. It was a chest that at one time she’d explored intimately. Her gaze dropped lower to the nicely corded muscles of his legs and work boots on his feet.

A chuckle. “Like what you see?” he asked.

Dear Lord, he didn’t recognize her. But why would he? She was a different woman, both physically and in personality, from the one he’d known twelve years ago when they’d both been twenty-six.

She cleared her throat and moved into the sunlight. “Hello, Luke.”

Every single muscle in his body stiffened. For a moment, he just stood there, staring up at her from the ground; then, slowly, he climbed the steps until they were on the same level. Jayne wanted to inch back but forced herself to hold her ground, despite the flinty look in his eyes that made her shiver. Trying to conceal her reaction, she threw back her shoulders and faced him down.

Finally, he said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

LUKE STARED at the woman standing before him. Dressed in a tailored beige suit, she was taller than he remembered and her demeanor made her seem more confident and formidable than the eager junior architect she’d been over a decade ago when they’d hooked up in New York City. And, damn it to ever-loving hell, she was even more of a knockout now. Dark-as-midnight hair, cut short and feathery around a flawless face. He’d told her she had Liz Taylor eyes. Once, he’d fallen for their combination of innate sophistication and vulnerability. But no more. Never again.

“I asked you what you’re doing here?”

Jayne Logan had wreaked havoc in Jess’s family, something Luke had only found out about after she’d left him. Discovering that little tidbit made him understand why she’d insisted on keeping her relationship with Luke a secret from Jess.

“I’m here to see Eleanor.”

“What, after you abandoned her? It was hard for Miss Ellie when you stopped coming to Riverdale.”

Warmth and humor filled those violet eyes. “I forgot you called her that.”

A small dog came running around the side of the house and flew up the steps. It was a beautiful little Yorkshire terrier with black and golden hair on a long leash. Bending over, Luke scooped the animal into his hands. “Shh…it’s all right, Krystle.”

“I see you’re still living on the set of nighttime soaps.”

Luke had a slew of sisters and, growing up, all of them had loved Dallas and Dynasty. As a hormone-crazed teenager, he got to watch Sammy Jo—aka Heather Locklear—every week, so he didn’t complain.

“Forget about that.” About everything he’d told her when he’d fallen like the proverbial ton of bricks for her. “Explain to me why you’re back in Riverdale after all these years.”

She bristled and said, “That’s my business,” and nodded to the house. “Is Eleanor home?”

“No, she left for church right after I got here.”

“That’s right, it’s Sunday.”

“Don’t go to church anymore?”

“No. You?”

Not since the course of events in his life had destroyed his faith in a Supreme Being. To some degree, the woman before him had been a part of those events. “No.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Last I knew you were in New York, making mega bucks. You said you’d never come back to live in a small town.”

“I changed my mind.” To avoid telling her why, to avoid explaining the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he gestured to the other side of the porch, walked over a few feet and turned the corner. She followed. “I’m building that for Miss Ellie. It’s done, except for the painting.”

“It’s beautiful. I love gazebos. There’s this really nice one in Paris in the—”

“Versailles Gardens. I know.”

She cocked her head at him, a frown marring her brow. “You used to live overseas and traveled in Europe. I forgot about that.”