“You’ll be okay, Lily. I got it back here. Go talk to him. I wouldn’t keep pushing you toward him if I didn’t believe in this from the bottom of my heart. I love you. I love him too. He’s the extra brother I never wanted but I’m glad I have. Remember what I told you before.”

“Remember what?” She’d told me a lot before.

“Get out of your head and don’t be a pussy. Go get your man back.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed to the kitchen door. Peeking out of the window of the kitchen door I saw Luke leaning on the end of the counter, waiting for me. I stepped back quickly. He looked different—again. I sighed and tried not to stare. His face was visible, the angle of his strong square jaw, his high cheekbones, and his luscious lips.

Opening the door, I stepped out. His hair was still long but swept back neatly giving me the desire to sink my fingers into it. He was looking hot in a white button-down shirt tucked into his dark-wash jeans. The way it stretched across his broad chest when he turned and waved to me made my jaw drop a little bit as my eyes moved up and down his body, blatantly checking him out and liking what I saw.

I took a step toward him, then one more. I managed to smile. “Hi, Luke,” I murmured and looked past him, out the window. Trying to get up the courage to break our date.

“Lily, we need to talk,” he said.

Huh? That was my line. “Oh, we do?” Of course, we did. That was my plan. I felt thwarted. Foiled. And a little confused. Did he come over here looking all hot and handsome to throw me off?

“Come to my office with me.” He took my hand and led me quickly through the shop and out the door.

I followed at his side, clutching his hand. I had to jog to keep up. “Slow down, Luke. I have short legs, dang it,” I managed to say.

He slowed as we approached the door to his building. He held it open, and I crossed through. The log cabin mountain theme was in full effect in the lobby. It was all about wood paneling and dark green accents, leather furniture and heavy wooden tables. We headed to a set of double doors with McCabe Contracting engraved on a large plaque next to them. We passed through a small reception area with a dark brown leather couch, some wooden chairs around a low table, and a desk set up for a secretary or receptionist. But no one was here. He unlocked a door that had a small sign with his name on it, and I followed him into the spacious office. It was nice.

“I like your desk, oh and your couch. Did you decorate your office?” I asked.