“I had no idea folks in Clover were so fascinated with my well-being.” She regarded him pointedly. “But they, at least, are friends. I’m not sure I’d describe you the same way. I do know that my financial status is none of your concern. I can’t imagine why you would have wanted information about me, but if you did, you could have asked me directly.”
“Would you have given me honest answers?”
Their gazes clashed. “I was always honest with you,” she said heatedly. “You...” She let the accusation trail off. There was no point to arguing. History couldn’t be changed. She had loved him once to distraction. He had left her without a word, apparently to marry a woman who was pregnant with his child. What more was there to say?
Even though Katie fell silent, Luke clearly got the message and, just as clearly, accepted the blame for whatever lack of honesty had come between them six years earlier. Guilt was written all over his handsome, chiseled face, along with something that might have been regret.
“Look, can we go inside and talk?” he asked, his tone suddenly placating.
“Why?”
He seemed amused by her reluctance. “Maybe just because it’s way past time for two old friends to catch up.”
Catching up—risking involvement—struck Katie as a remarkably bad idea. She didn’t want to be alone with Luke. The man still had the power to wreak havoc with her senses. She’d known that the instant she’d spotted him in the back of the church at Lucy Maguire Ryder’s disrupted wedding. That meant he also had the power to cause her even more anguish than he had in the past. She had wounds from the first time that, to her deep regret, felt as fresh today as they had on the day he’d walked out of her life.
“Please,” he coaxed, his gaze unrelenting.
“We can sit on the porch,” she said as a compromise when she saw that he wasn’t about to leave until he’d gotten whatever he’d come for. She didn’t for one single minute believe it had anything to do with the cost of her roof repairs. “I’ll get us some lemonade.”
“Afraid to be alone with me?” he inquired with a smile that never quite reached his eyes.
“Never,” she denied.
“Then wouldn’t it be better to have this conversation where half the town won’t be witness to it?”
She couldn’t imagine what he had to say that needed such privacy, but it was clear he was going to badger her until he got his way. “Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” she snapped impatiently. “Come on into the kitchen.”
The kitchen, normally Katie’s favorite room in the house because of its huge windows facing the backyard and a table large enough to seat a half-dozen friends for a good long chat, suddenly seemed the size of a closet. Luke’s presence was overpowering. The effect was worsened by his pacing, which brought him brushing past her time and again as she squeezed the lemons into a big glass pitcher, added water, plenty of sugar and a tray of ice cubes. At least the process and his silence gave her time to gather her composure.
When she finally turned, handing him a glass, she was almost able to convince herself that Luke was just another old friend stopping by to catch up on the news. People—a few of them attractive, available men—gathered in her kitchen all the time, though none of them made her pulse race. Still, there was no reason to think of Luke any differently than she did all those others. She could handle his presence. She could, dammit!
Then his fingers grazed hers as he took the lemonade. Her pulse bucked. She glanced into his eyes and saw a torment that made her breath catch in her throat. Her natural compassion welled up, even as she forced herself to look away. It took every ounce of restraint she possessed to keep from wrapping her arms around him and consoling him.
Though what Luke Cassidy had to be tormented about she couldn’t imagine. Everyone in town had heard by now that he’d made a fortune while living in Atlanta. He had a precious son, Robby, the merest sight of whom brought a lump to Katie’s throat. And if he was divorced, well, so were a lot of people. However tragic the circumstances, people got over it. It was nothing for her to get all teary-eyed over.
“Katie?” Luke asked suddenly.
She reluctantly lifted her gaze to his. Something in his voice, a soft, cajoling note, made her pulse skip yet another beat. How many times had she heard just that note before he’d asked her to do something outrageous? She could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he intended to do just that all over again.
“What?” she asked warily.
“Marry me.”
The two simple, totally unexpected words hit her with the force of a tornado. If he’d asked her to join him on a shuttle to the moon, she wouldn’t have been any more stunned. Katie was suddenly very glad they weren’t in plain sight. At least there was no one to see her mouth drop open, no one to witness in case she followed through on her urge to whap him upside his hard head with a frying pan. If Luke Cassidy had asked her to marry him six years ago, she would have wept with joy. Today that same request—that out-of-the-blue mockery of a real proposal—filled her with fury.
“You want to marry me?” she repeated incredulously. Her pulse, apparently unaware that the proposal merited anger, not consideration, took off as if this were a declaration of true love. “Six years without a word, and now you want to marry me? Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he agreed, as calmly as if the suggestion weren’t totally absurd.
“Have you lost your mind?”
He seemed to consider the question thoughtfully, then shook his head, his expression thoroughly serious. “Nope. I don’t think so.”
“Then I think you need a second opinion.”
“Katie, I’ve given this a lot of
