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  Luke opened his mouth. But he had nothing. All of that was true. Paul smirked, knowing he’d spoken nothing but facts that Luke couldn’t dispute. Luke always felt like it was his first time in the cockpit when he was around a woman he liked. And the flight always ended with him crashing and burning. Whereas Paul Hanson could swagger onto the scene with confidence, brandishing his blaster pistol, and having the women fall at his boots.

  “We can help,” said Maggie.

  “Maggie, you’ve never been on a first date in your life,” said Ruhi. “The first time you met Dylan, he proposed a marriage of convenience.”

  “And look where I am now,” said Maggie, brandishing the rock on her left hand. “Besides, the same thing happened between you and Sean, and look at the two of you.”

  “I’ve had plenty of bad first dates,” said Ginger. “I can help.”

  “It’s not … I’m not …” But the women were all talking over Luke, planning out his first date with Elaine. He had to wait for another lull in the banter before he could ask the question that plagued him. “So, why doesn’t she date?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I remember that her parents went through a really nasty divorce. When she was a kid, Elaine was at the library every day until they closed.”

  “Then she would come to the church until late,” said Ruhi. “She’d be reading in the pews during evening service. That probably had something to do with it.”

  “But she’s really smart,” said Ginger.

  “And really pretty,” said Ruhi.

  “She loves books,” said Maggie. “And you write books. This is a match made in heaven.”

  “Wait,” said Luke. “Slow down. The woman doesn’t want to date, but you all are trying to match us like we’re going to get married.”

  Not a single one of the wives denied the statement. They were all sizing him, as though they were taking his measurements for his wedding tuxedo.

  Luke looked around for Paul and realized his friend had already made it out the back door, moving faster than his injured hip should allow. He was stuck in a room full of female matchmakers on a ranch where soldiers were known to tie the knot within three months. He was in trouble.

  But, for some reason, he didn’t run.

  Chapter Eight

  Despite being extremely tired after the day’s events, Elaine couldn’t sleep that night. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Hazel brown eyes peered back at her. The eyes reminded her of the browning of a first edition book. There were stories in those eyes. They whispered to Elaine to open the covers, crack the spine, and get comfortable in her favorite reading chair.

  The watchful gaze wasn’t threatening. It was welcoming. So, why couldn’t she sleep?

  Probably because she did want to know the story within Lieutenant Luke Jackson’s sparkling brown eyes.

  Elaine threw the covers off and got out of bed. The dull ache in her skull didn’t allow her to get too far. What if he was right? What if there was more damage than the doctor’s saw? There had to be if she was thinking about Lieutenant Jackson and feeling something close to anticipation for their thank-you dinner in twelve hours.

  Twelve hours? How was she going to pass the time? Mary had insisted she take the day off to rest and recover. So, Elaine did what she did at nights and on the weekends, she pulled open an old book.

  Lieutenant Jackson had saved her copy of Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Elaine was still a little surprised that she’d risked her treasured book to save his life. But only a little.

  Elaine opened the book. She was just at the part of the story where Tess met the man she would marry. Elaine settled down to read the slow burn love develop between Tess and Angel Clare while the two worked on a dairy farm. Elaine turned the page, knowing that at the end of this chapter. Angel would propose to Tess. Elaine also knew that Tess would hesitate to accept Angel’s offer because of the dark secrets of her past that involved the villain Alec d’Urberville.

  There were always dark secrets in people’s past. Those secrets were what come back to wreak havoc. In any love story. Her parents had tons of secrets; secret affairs, secret bank accounts, secret trips, secret secrets.

  At this point in Tess’s story, Elaine always had to push herself forward. Hardy rarely wrote happily-ever-afters. He spoke about real life. That’s why Elaine enjoyed his tales.

  They spoke of the harshness of class and society, the futility of relationships and love. It didn’t matter that Tess’s shame wasn’t her fault. Human beings did wretched things in the name of love. That’s why Elaine avoided the institution at all costs, starting with dating.

  Dating was the gateway drug to love. So, Elaine always just said no.

  A knock sounded at her front door just as Angel and Tess were confessing their secrets after their wedding. Angel has told Tess about an affair he had with a woman in his youth. Tess has accepted this and then tells her dark secret; that she was assaulted by Alec and delivered his stillborn baby. Elaine placed her bookmark at the passage where Angel says he can’t get past Tess’s shame, and their love begins to crumble. Elaine decided to let the lovers linger in the possibility that their love would last for a few minutes and went to open the door.

  The sun was low in the sky as she pulled open the door. The day was nearly over. She had gotten so lost in the story.

  “How are you feeling?” Mary stood on the stoop.

  “Fine,” said Elaine. And she did feel fine. That’s what a good book with big words and a thought-provoking theme did to the brain.

  “They said you saved someone in a car accident?” Mary pushed past Elaine, coming into the house.

  “No, I saved a pedestrian from a car accident. He was reading while walking.”

  “Sounds like a crime you would commit.”

  Elaine blew a harsh breath. “I would never put my books in danger.”

  Mary plopped down on the couch. “Who was this pedestrian?”

  “A soldier,” said Elaine.

  “A soldier?” Mary parroted.

  “A lieutenant.”

  “A lieutenant?

  Elaine knew what was coming next, and she blamed all those Harlequins Mary inhaled in-between the stacks. Sometimes three a day. Those slim, lightweight novelettes rotted the brain.

  “From the Purple Heart Ranch?” asked Mary. “One of the taken ones? Or a new one?”

  “I think he’s new.”

  Mary bounced up on her toes and squealed, which hurt Elaine’s head. “This is it. Fate has found you. You know what happens on that ranch.”

  Elaine had heard the tales of love at first sight and marriages of convenience turning into the real deal up on that plot of land. There were even enemies-to-lovers relationships that had happened recently between a soldier and the new state senator. It all sounded like fairytales. Elaine never read any fairytales.

  “I’m not going to the ranch,” said Elaine.

  “But you’re going to see him again. You saved his life.”

  “He’s taking me out to a thank-you dinner.”

  “A date.”

  “A dinner.”

  “What are you going to wear?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  Mary went straight for her closet. She tugged Elaine’s cardigans off hangers and tossed them to the ground along with any buttoned-up blouses. Finally, Mary pulled out a summer dress that would show of Elaine’s shoulders and bust line.

  Elaine backed out of the closet, arms up to ward off her friend and boss. But Mary advanced.

  “It’s not a date,” Elaine insisted. “I don’t date, remember.”

  “Elaine, you can’t be alone for the rest of your life.”

  “I’m not alone. I have my books.”

  Elaine waved her hand at the tomes taking up half of her closet. She had far more books than she did articles of clothing. Clothes changed with the seasons. They went into and out of style. They needed to be altered or replacements purchased as the body
changed.

  “I know your parents' divorce was ugly…”

  Elaine turned from her friend and began straightening the books on her closet shelves. Unlike clothing, books were evergreen. The stories inside never changed. They always remained the same. And right where she’d left them.

  “… but not all relationships are like that.”

  “What? You mean not ripping out each other’s hearts only to use jumper cables so you can feel that euphoria of endorphins over and over again?”

  Elaine’s parents had gotten engaged ten times before finally marrying. They got divorced three times and were now planning a vow renewal for their fourth marriage. Her parents were addicted to that feeling of love, the racing heart, the rush of adrenaline, that feeling of falling. Elaine had always preferred two feet on the ground and a clear head. She saw from a tender age that her parents were alternately painfully cruel and lovingly suffocating toward each other. What they called it was love. She never wanted any part of that freak show.

  “And my life is full,” she said. “Just look at my TBR pile.”

  The pile Elaine indicated was massive tomes that rivaled War and Peace. She preferred the Shelly sisters to Austen. Frankenstein was her kind of happy ending, the monster crying over his creator’s dead body. That was a better approximation of true love in Elaine’s eyes.

  “And I have my work at the library,” she continued. “We need to do all we can to get more circulation.”

  “Speaking of that, I met Walker Skye the other day. He’s going to do a reading and a signing at the library. People are already signing up. Don’t roll your eyes!”

  Too late. Elaine’s eyes had rolled all the way back in her head. She just couldn’t understand the draw of space wars. Oh, wait. Star Wars. That’s what Lieutenant Jackson had meant. The one with Luke Skywalker. She only knew that because the actor who had played the part had voiced a number of middle-grade books that were shelved at the library.

  “Promise me you’ll be on your best behavior when you meet him,” said Mary.

  “What do you think I’ll do? Spit on him?”

  Mary gave her a knowing look.

  “I will use my best manners.” Elaine held up her right hand like when she and Mary were in Girl Scouts. But she didn’t tuck in her thumb and pinky finger as was custom.

  “And smile.”

  Elaine frowned.

  “And make polite conversation.”

  Elaine grimaced.

  “And don’t put down his books.”

  “I can’t do that. I haven’t ever picked them up. And I doubt I ever will.”

  Chapter Nine

  Luke arrived at her place five minutes before the appointed time. He was chronically five minutes early, a leftover from his time in the service. If you weren't early, you were late. He was usually fifteen minutes early, but he didn't want to look like a creeper. That was one of the rules the brides of the Purple Heart Ranch instilled in him during their coaching session; be eager, but play it cool. Women can tell the difference.

  He'd been sure to wear dark clothing in case he did spill something on himself. He'd been sure to avoid liquids on the drive over. A puddle of mud was in the crack of Elaine’s walkway. Luke managed to step over it without incident.

  All signs were pointing to good.

  He took the stairs, one at a time, to avoid the possibility of tripping over his own feet. Once at her door, he knocked three times. His palms were dry, another good sign.

  He knew that technically, this wasn't a date. And that was fine. He really shouldn't be trying to date someone when he had no firm plans of where his life would take him next. His new job of full-time author didn't require him to live in any one place. His main concern was getting Paul back in a good place, whether his friend liked it or not. So, no, Luke didn’t need to get into a serious relationship right now.

  The door opened, and all his best-laid plans vanished from his mind.

  Elaine stood in dark jeans and a simple t-shirt. She was dressed far too casually for their outing to be considered a date. Still, she looked like a knockout nonetheless.

  Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, the way women fixed it when they wanted it to appear they weren't trying too hard, but it was evident that they had. Her makeup was slight as though to look like it wasn't there. Though her lashes were long enough to be wingtips, he could see the outline of the eyeliner there. There was a touch of gloss on her rosy lips, even though her tongue struck out to lick at her lower lip.

  This was a good sign, right? When a woman looked as though she hadn’t tried real hard, it usually meant she’d had. At least that’s what the brides had told him.

  Luke's eyes caught and held on Elaine’s lip. He watched as it moved, stretching wide and then forming an O and finally pressing closed.

  Oh, wait. She had been forming words. She had been speaking to him. What had she just said?

  "You look amazing," he said. A compliment was always a perfect response.

  "Thanks," she said. "I was going for a comfortable night out with my potential new friend."

  "So, I have potential?" Luke waggled his brows, which he hoped looked cute and endearing.

  Elaine’s brows pulled together, and she leaned back a bit. She reached behind and pulled the door closed. Great, he was already off to the wrong foot with her.

  Luke went to follow Elaine down the steps. Unfortunately, he misstepped, and his foot stepped into one of the potted plants.

  The brown guts spilled and exposed the plant's roots. Luke bent to save the plant, just as Elaine bent down as well. Their heads collided.

  Elaine's hand went to her forehead. Luke's hands went there, as well. Their fingers intertwined. Their gazes locked.

  The wince she'd worn fell away. The sparkle returned to her brown gaze in the pale moonlight. Luke brushed his thumb across her forehead in a windshield wiping motion.

  “We’ve gotta stop bumping into each other,” she said.

  That was the last thing he wanted to do. Though he didn’t relish the small hurt he’d given her. Her skin was satin in his hands. There was no bruise forming on her forehead. He should give her her head back, but he liked the feeling of her in the palm of his hand. It felt right.

  Elaine blinked, snuffing out the sparkles. She turned her head. When she did, she broke his hold on her. She reached for and repotted the plant. Luke brushed the dirt off his shoe. The dry dirt turned to mud in his sweaty hands.

  “This is a nice looking house,” said Luke when they were down the steps and on a level playing field. “Do you have roommates?”

  “No, it’s my house. It’s been mine since I was twelve. After my parents’ second divorce, they tried for split custody. But, instead of me going to my dad’s apartment every other day and living out of a suitcase and backpack, the judge made it so that they would take turns and come stay at the house so that I could stay put.”

  “That was very responsible of them.”

  Her gaze tracked up to his. “It was my idea. I hated living out of a suitcase, especially when there were mostly books in my suitcase instead of clothes. It was pretty heavy.”

  “Divorce is hard. Are they remarried?”

  “Yes, they are. To each other. This is their fourth time getting remarried. This last one was a destination wedding. I stayed home. I’m a little too old to be a flower girl, don’t you think.”

  The words were flippant, but Luke saw the crinkle at the edge of her eyes. He saw the tug at the corner of her forced smile. Her lashes fluttered, like a wounded bird’s.

  Elaine hugged her arms around herself in the breezeless night. Luke noted that she alternately scratched at her chest or balled her hands into fists as she talked about her parents.

  “What about your parents?” she asked.

  “My mother died when I was very young.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Luke shrugged, scratching at his own chest. “I was too young to remember her.” He balled his han
d into a fist. “She died from complications due to pregnancy.”

  Elaine’s face contorted into horror.

  Luke shook his head, hoping to clear the horror. He hoped she didn’t ask. He didn’t like to talk about it. But he knew that if Elaine asked, he would tell her.

  He would tell her how the pregnancy was high risk, but his mother decided it was worth it. He was worth it. He’d tell Elaine how his mother had nearly died delivering him. That she only survived his first year before she succumbed to the ravages of her body.

  But Elaine didn’t ask.

  “And your father?”

  Luke scratched at his chest with his balled fist. “He never remarried. He said she was the one. You’d think he’d be bitter that he lost her. But he’s not. He says every day that he was blessed to find her. Not everyone finds their true love.”

  Elaine snorted. Then covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

  Luke quirked an eyebrow. “Right. You don’t believe in love.”

  Elaine waggled her head. “I believe that people can care deeply for one another. But the concept of love …” She shook her head instead of completing the sentence. “No, not love. Passion. Passion like that is dangerous. It’s a chemical reaction, a rush of endorphins that increases your blood flow and makes your heart race and your breath catch. That’s medically dangerous. Who wants to live in that state all their lives?”

  Elaine lifted a brow at him. Luke felt a rush of endorphins when their gazes connected. His heart didn’t skip a beat, but it did speed up. His breath didn’t catch, but he felt light-headed all the same.

  “It might start that way,” he said. “That’s your body’s fight or flight response. But you can choose to run away from it or stick around. When you stick around, the body will find a plateau because that’s its natural state. It wants stasis, so that person that initiated those feelings if you both stick around, the feeling will change to something normal.”

  She’d been eying him skeptically, but there was a slight twitch of her cheek. The twitch pulled down the doubtful brow. It lifted the slight frown. Did part of her want to believe him? Because all of him wanted her to.