His barricaded hazel eyes were thrown into prominence by his light tan. He had a regal nose that would have suited a nineteenth-century Italian prince. His lips formed a straight, serious line. Thick scruff covered the lean angles of cheekbones and jaw. His hair was a beautiful shade of dark brown. He’d cut it in a masculine style that had grown out so much that some of the strands were almost long enough to catch in his eyelashes. He wore a gray hoodie beneath a black leather jacket. His black jeans ended at lace-up boots.

She didn’t often feel short around men, but he was several inches taller than she was. Six foot two, maybe? His muscular body moved with both defensiveness and the smoothness of an athlete. Had she not already known him to be thirty-three, she’d have guessed him to be slightly older.

Luke reminded her of slabs of slate. Craggy. Unyielding.

Typically, she surrounded herself with calming music, calming herbal teas, calming smells, calming poetry. He was not calming. He was quiet, but in the way that a volcano is quiet while magma rises dangerously below the surface.

Fortunately, silence didn’t make Finley uncomfortable. She’d spent a lifetime talking to pets who couldn’t talk back. In fact, few things—other than the killing of animals, nuclear weapons, injustice, war, the destruction of natural habitats, and the banning of books—made her uncomfortable.

“When did you get out on parole?” she asked.

“November.”

“Oh?” The sound communicated her surprise. “I told Dad months ago that I’d hire you as soon as you got out. Why did you wait until last week to contact me?”

“Because the promise I made to your dad doesn’t go into effect until this weekend.”

If her brain had been a runner, the runner had just hit a brick wall. “Hmm?”

“What did they tell you about your dad’s death?”

She scrambled to understand. He’d made a promise to her dad? Connected in some way to his death? “Everything I know about my dad’s death came from the report the prison gave me. It said that Dad was in the common area, playing checkers. He stood up, swayed, and collapsed. His friends called for help, and he received treatment quickly. But there was nothing that could be done. He’d suffered sudden cardiac arrest. Within just a few minutes, he was gone.”