Luke leaned back next to her and turned to face her, falling harder every time he got a glimpse of who she was as a person. “I understand.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” he said, stroking her cheek. “We have to look into this, and we have to decide if, and when, to go to the police. And yes, it’s the right thing to do.”
“What if someone on the police force is involved in this?”
“We don’t even know what ‘this’ is or isn’t, at this point. Let’s not assume anyone is corrupt.”
“Come on, Luke,” she pressed. “You read what I did in that journal. That man Elizabeth wrote about, what was his name,” she paused and snapped her fingers, “Paul Arel. That’s it. And then someone called ‘Dragonfly’. Clearly, that’s a code name. It sounds like the judge and that Dragonfly person were doing deals behind Arel’s back. And then there’s the stolen artwork. The journal says it’s hidden behind a wall in the study.”
“We don’t know if it’s true or who the real players are,” he countered. “Give me time to investigate. And for all we know Paul Arel is a code name as well.”
“What if Elizabeth’s threat related to Dragonfly? Maybe the judge didn’t want her to tell him he was being cheated.”
“Dargonfly could be a man or woman,” he reminded her. “It could even be Elizabeth’s sister, and she could be setting us up.”
She sat up. “Surely not? Do you think that is possible?”
“Everything is possible.” Hell, he’d seen SEALs he’d have believed to be unbreakable cry under imminent threat of capture.
“I should know that,” she said tightly. “The judge alone should have been a wake-up call, if not the very dark side I see divorce bring out in people.”
There was that cynical part of her that kept the wall wedged between them. “Lauren mentioned you were thinking of leaving your firm, and maybe doing something other than divorce cases?”
“Not really,” she said thoughtfully. “I mean, yes, I’ve given it consideration, and at times, fairly seriously. In the end though, I’m making money that I can set aside, and I’m secure. I can’t lose that.”
Because she felt alone. He knew it, but he didn’t say it. Putting her on the defensive was a move that hadn’t worked well for him thus far. “You never see your father?”
She chewed her bottom lip and cut her gaze. “Not since I was a child.”
“And you don’t want to see your mother?” he asked, recalling the past talks they’d had, back when she thought he’d be gone and her confessions wouldn’t matter.
She shrugged and hugged her knees to her chest. “I never know where she is. Vegas, or off traveling with some new man or husband.”
“She still performs?”
She nodded. “She’s still gorgeous, even in her forties. She had me when she was only eighteen and I think she resented being held back, but then, she never really was.”
“Do you talk on the holidays?”
“We talk on Christmas and occasionally on Thanksgiving.”
Not her birthday, he thought. Not in person. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Her and her new man stopped by three years ago. He hit on me and suggested a threesome.”
“What?” he asked, astonished. “With your mother?”
“Sick, right?”
“And your mother said?”
“She’s a prim and proper princess. She doesn’t do those things.”
Luke sat there a moment, speechless. When he recovered, he turned her so that she faced him, his hands on her knees. “Let’s make a pact right now.”
“What kind of pact?”
“No matter what happens to us, we are friends, and you are a part of the Walker family. Nothing is going to keep you from Lauren, or from us. You understand?”
Her eyes immediately glossed over with tears. “Luke-”
He brushed his lips over hers. “I’m serious, Julie. No matter what, you have me.” He wiped a tear as it escaped down her cheek. “Let’s get Cici and your stuff and go to my place where I know you’re safe.”
“You want to take Cici with us?”
“She’s your family,” he said. “So yes. I want to take Cici.”
“That means a litter box,” she reminded him.
“You mean she isn’t toilet trained?”
She laughed. ”Oh how I wish.”
She wasn’t arguing and that said she was really rattled, or he was getting through to her. Or maybe, just maybe, it was both. Either way, Luke was getting them out of here before she changed her mind. Because not only was he feeling the very male need to have her in his bed, he was far more disturbed by that journal than he’d let on.
***
She’d grocery shopped with Luke.
Julie stood in his kitchen, in soft cotton pink sweats, a Victoria Secrets ‘Pink ’ T-shirt, and fuzzy pink slippers, dicing tomatoes for a salad. She was out of her personal space, her zone, and yet she felt oddly at peace.
Julie cut her gaze to the side and smiled as she watched Luke stirring the spaghetti sauce barely a foot away from her, throwing in various spices here and there as if it were a science. She decided right then that there was something about a man who could handle a gun and a spatula.
Looking down as she heard a soft purr Julie realized that Cici was once again wrapping herself around Luke’s feet, but he didn’t seem to mind so she didn’t say anything. The cat loved Luke. Her chest tightened. Love. God. Was she falling in love with Luke? Had she already?
He tasted the sauce. “Love it.”
“What?” Julie asked, jolted by his words.
“The sauce is exactly the way my mother makes it,” he said.
“Oh,” she said, sighing in relief. “And you only had to call her three times.”
He grinned. He was so handsome when he grinned like that. “She loves it when I call her.”
“She was in a movie.”
He shrugged. “She didn’t mind.”
She arched a brow. “You mean you didn’t mind interrupting her date.”
“If he can’t take the good with the bad, he shouldn’t be around.”
“That’s evil, Luke.”
“Testing his patience is part of being sure he’s in this for the long haul.”
She shook her head and resumed chopping. “Dating is hard enough, Luke.”
“Says you?” he asked.
“ Says everyone,” she said flatly. “Which is why I don’t do it.”
“What do you mean exactly by that?”
She flicked him a quick glance, and shrugged. “I just don’t do it.”
“At all?”
She didn’t look at him. “That pretty much sums it up.”
He couldn’t help asking, “What about sex?”
She stopped chopping. “What about it?”
He gave her a knowing look. “You like it.”
She laughed, but without humor. “So do you.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
She started chopping again. “What was the question?”
“If you don’t date, what do you do about sex?”
“Not much since you left,” she said, so appalled she’d admitted that that her hand slipped on the knife handle, and she cut her finger. Blood immediately poured from the sliced skin. “Ouch.” She rushed her hand to the sink.
Luke grabbed her wrist and turned on the water. “It looks pretty deep.”
“Fingers bleed a lot and I’m fine, really.”
He turned off the water. “We need to bandage it.” He pulled her gently along until they reached the bathroom and ordered, “Sit and hold the towel snug until I get the supplies.”
She did as he instructed as he rummaged through the medicine chest and pulled out what he wanted. Kneeling at her feet he checked the cut. “A little deeper and you would have needed stitches for sure, but I think you'll manage to skate by without them.”