Luke(30)

He wanted to rectify that. He was so intent on figuring out how to do just that, he figured he was dreaming when he saw her in the parking lot of the hospital, standing next to her car, kicking her back tire.

Her flat tire.

"Take that!" She kicked it again, then swore and hopped up and down in a circle, holding her toe.

Moving in, he reached for her arm to help balance her. "Did you break it?"

At the sight of him she let out a squeal, lost the rest of her balance, and fell against him.

Which really worked out in his favor, because once again he ended up with a curvy, warm armful of woman. Taking full advantage of that, he ran his hands down her slim spine, buried his face in her wild hair and closed his eyes, pretending she meant to be against him like this.

"Sorry," she murmured.

Because he couldn't help himself—she smelled so good, felt so good—he danced his mouth along the column of her throat. "Why?"

"Because—" This ended in a little whimper when he opened his mouth and took a little bite out of her. Her hands fisted in the front of his shirt and she arched a little closer, letting out a soft, muffled groan when he did it again. "Luke—"

"You taste so good," he murmured. "So damn good. I've been thinking about this for weeks." And he let his mouth slide up, over her jaw to the very corner of her lips.

"Oh my," said a female voice behind them. "Excuse us…"

Luke looked up at the women, the nurses he'd just spoken to inside. They stood there, jaws open. "Good evening," he said.

"Evening," they said together, still staring. Then, as if they suddenly realized they were doing so, they jumped, looked at each other, and hurried off.

"My God, he's got a girlfriend," came back in an amazed whisper on the night air. "Maybe he is a nice guy."

Luke laughed softly and shook his head. "I really did have a PR problem."

"Did?"

He looked down into Faith's eyes. "Before you."

She wore a lacy, cream-colored tank top and a long, flowing, colorful gauzy skirt that flew around her ankles when she moved. He wanted to gobble her up whole. "Never mind," he said, hugging her. "How did you know what time I'd get off?"

"I didn't. I … came to see a patient."

Oh. Oh, yeah. Her universe didn't revolve around him. He laughed at himself—what else could he do?—and backed up a step, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Of course."

She bit her lower lip, looking so pretty by moonlight he had to put his hands in his pockets so they'd behave. "But seeing you is a bonus," she said.

"Right."

Her mouth curved, her eyes lit with teasing, which normally he'd enjoy since there wasn't a single person in his life who ever teased him—except for his brother Matt, but that was closer to torture than teasing.

"It is," she insisted. "The best bonus of the night, right after that sugar-free brownie I consumed for lunch."

"You've been avoiding me like the plague since I made you check your blood sugar, so don't talk to me of bonuses. And you'd better have made sure it was really sugar-free—sometimes those labels—"

"It was," she insisted. "And maybe I've been avoiding you because of embarrassment."

"Embarrassment? Why?"

With the teasing light out of her eyes now, she lifted her hands and let out a disparaging sound. "I'm supposedly a health professional. How does it look that I missed keeping track of my own health? I'm borderline diabetic for God's sake, and brushed it off as the flu."

"You've been busy."

"And stupid. Stupid," she repeated when he opened his mouth to deny it. "And at the very least I owe you a thank-you."

"That, I'll take," he decided, his body quivering to hopeful attention when she stepped close and slid her hands up his chest. When she leaned in for a kiss, he wrapped her in his arms and prepared to be transported to heaven.

But after a short, sweet peck she pulled back.

"That's it?" he asked.

She let out a laugh at his disappointment. "I thought that was a very nice thank-you."

"Truthfully? I was hoping for nicer." He once again slipped his hands into his pockets. It was that or trace them over every inch of her. "So what happened to your tire?"

"I have no idea. I'll have to call AAA since I don't have a spare."

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to her, listening as she argued with the dispatcher over the wait time.

"Have them tow it to your mechanic's place," he said. "I'll take you home."

When she handed him the phone back, he linked their fingers. "Let's have dinner first." He nodded to the café across the street. "The food's guaranteed to clog your arteries, but it's delicious."

She looked at the café, then at him. "Dinner?"

"Dinner."

"As in … a date?"

Now he had to laugh. "Pretty tame given the sort of relationship you once proposed to me, don't you think?"

Now her green, green eyes darkened. "That other relationship that I proposed … I thought maybe we should just forget it."