“Not ballet like Swan Lake.” Luke shook his head. “Spandau Ballet is an eighties band.”

“Your geezer tunes. Why am I not surprised.” Penelope rolled her eyes, voice teasing. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but … what song?”

“‘True.’ That’s the name of the song,” he clarified, before she could make another snarky comment. Although, he had to admit, her teasing helped make this conversation seem a little more normal and a little less weird.

“The title has potential, but I don’t know it.”

“And now I’m not surprised.”

“Sing it for me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine. I’ll look it up.” His sister swiveled on her chair and began typing. “Why that song in particular?”

“I’m not really sure.” Luke shrugged. “We started kissing and it sort of came over me.” He bit his lip, struggling to define how it felt. “It wasn’t the words playing in my head, exactly, so much as it was the music was moving all through me—like the sound was flowing through my veins. And it heightened this feeling that everything was … right.” He shook his head. “This is stupid.”

“No. Luke, no.” Pen grabbed his hand. “It’s actually the most perfect description of a kiss I’ve ever heard.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” She paused, the teasing glint returning to her eye. “I’m not sure about the Spandex Ballet—”

“Spandau,” he corrected.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes again. But then she smiled at him, all hint of teasing gone. “It’s beautiful, Luke.” Her voice was low and raw and sincere. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I want to do something special for her,” he admitted in a rush. “Something that shows her, in some way, how I feel.”

“I think the answer to that is obvious, brother dear.”

“What do you mean, obvious? I’ve been racking my brain for more than a day trying to come up with something.” He grinned sheepishly. “It’s actually one of the reasons I came looking for you.”

“I’m flattered. And I’m also happy to help.” Her mouth quirked. “You really can’t think of anything?”

He shook his head.

“Even after the conversation we just had?” She looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Penelope,” he barked. “Just tell me.”

Rather than respond immediately, his sister reached for a file. She flipped it open and began shuffling the papers. “Aha.” She smacked a page on the desk in front of him.

Luke glanced at the paper and realized it was Julia’s itinerary.

“There’s your answer,” Pen said, tapping at a spot on the page.

Luke squinted. It was the bonus activity Julia had selected. For her personalized experience, Julia had picked karaoke serenade. His stomach flipped as he recalled the conversation at the breakfast table that morning, how the thought of singing to someone had made him nauseous even then. “No.”

“Luke, you have to.”

“No way.”