“Well, I’ve worked somewhere in the neighborhood of a kabillion jobs. I had a buddy in LA who’d call me in when he needed help renovating houses he flipped. I’d met him bartending in Hollywood.”

“Ooh, sounds swanky,” I teased.

“It was a pain in the ass but good money. I think I met a million people working there—that at least was a good time. Though the best time was when I worked at Cirque du Soleil for a summer.”

A laugh shot out of me as I rewet my brush. “Tell me you wore spandex. Or feathers. And that they pushed you off of something.”

“Nah, I worked the ropes. It’s more fun backstage. Less pressure.”

“Is there anything you haven’t done?”

“Rocket science,” he answered without hesitating. “Ride a unicycle, though not for lack of trying. Underwater welding—Mom wouldn’t let me. Too dangerous, she said. I even worked on a rig in the Pacific for a few months. That was some Groundhog Day action—every day the same thing, same view, same tiny room and clanging machines. I’d never been so happy to get my feet on dry land.”

“And nothing led to a career?” I asked, unsuccessfully attempting to school the judgment from my voice.

He shrugged his wide shoulders and kept on scrubbing. “I get bored and move on. Part of it, I think, is that I love to learn. I want to know a little bit about everything.”

“Without actually becoming an expert at anything,” I added with no small amount of criticism.

But Luke, as always, was unfazed. “If I’d found something I wanted to become an expert on, I wouldn’t have moved on.”

A brief thought of what kind of thing might convince him to stick around was overridden by, “How do you know if you’ve never had a long-term job? I mean, have you ever had a job for longer than six months?”

He frowned at me, affronted. “Of course I…” His brows ticked a little closer. “No. I guess I haven’t.”

I laughed, waving around my rightness. “Exactly.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve never worked anywhere but here,” he said with unmistakable disdain.

“And what’s so wrong with here?” I snapped.

“Nothing. It’s just not where I want to work. Not forever at least.”

I scowled at the wall, scrubbing with more force than was necessary.

“Oh, come on, Tess. This shop is my home. Who wants to stay home forever?”

“Me. I love living at home, and I love living here.”

“But don’t you miss that … I don’t know. Adventure?”

“I’m not interested in adventure. I’m interested in stability. Comfort.”

He stopped scrubbing, turning to face me as he leaned on the handle again.

I studiously ignored him.

“You mean to say, you don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable? When was the last time you did something that scared you?”

“This morning, when I came here to help you.”

A chuckle. I still wouldn’t look at him.

“I don’t know, Luke. I’m too busy to run off on adventures. I have my job here to think about, your mom to help. I take care of my dad. I like to take pretty pictures of flowers. And by the time I’m done with all that, there’s not a lot of time left to thrill-seek.” Or have a life.