The sudden pressure in her throat took Kelsey by surprise. She pushed her plate aside, folded her arms on the table and gave Luke a steady look. “Okay, you’ve convinced me it’s a worthy project. And I’m comfortable we can work together.” Not quite true, but she’d get past that. “Why don’t you fill me in on the ideas you discussed at the board meeting yesterday, and I’ll get back to you tomorrow with some initial thoughts.”
He regarded her for a moment, his gaze measuring, and then a subtle warmth softened his eyes. “Fair enough.”
For the next fifteen minutes, he gave her a rapid-fire summary as she scribbled notes. Her tea grew cold, but her heart warmed as the passion Reverend Howard had talked of intensified, convincing her Luke had, indeed, taken on Carlos’s dream as if it were his own.
When he finished, she flexed her hand and smiled at the page she’d filled. “There’s certainly plenty here to work with. I should have no trouble compiling some preliminary publicity ideas by tomorrow.”
“Excellent.” He smiled at her, and for some reason the tearoom suddenly felt too warm. “Now I’ve taken up enough of your time for one day.” Setting his napkin on the table, he rose and extended his hand. “Thank you for meeting with me.”
She stood, too. His fingers engulfed hers in a strong grip. “It’s hard to say no to Reverend Howard.”
“Father Joe’s the same way.” He released her hand. “We’ll have to employ their persuasive skills in our fundraising efforts.”
She grinned. “True. Few people do a better job of asking for money than the clergy.”
Eyes glinting with amusement, he pulled a small notebook and pen from his jacket pocket, then bent down and jotted a number with bold strokes. A faint whiff of his appealing, rugged aftershave tickled her nose, and she found herself fighting a temptation to lean closer.
Thrown by the impulse, she gripped the back of her chair and held on tight.
He tore the small sheet of paper from the notebook and handed it to her. “That’s my cell number. Why don’t you call me when you’re ready to continue our discussion?”
His lean fingers brushed hers, and her heart skipped a beat—then lurched into double time.
What in the world was going on?
“Kelsey?”
At his concerned query, she somehow managed to drag her lips into the semblance of a smile. “Yes. Good. I’ll call you.”
She tried not to squirm under his discerning perusal.
“Okay.” He pocketed his notebook and pen. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
With that, he strode toward the front door and disappeared to the accompaniment of a cheery jingle.
Kelsey groped for the edge of the table and sank into the chair she’d vacated, trying to get her pulse under control.
This was not good.
For the past seven months she’d coped with mild panic attacks in the presence of powerful men. She was used to the shakiness. The feeling of being off balance. The adrenaline surge.
This time, however, her reaction hadn’t been caused by fear, but by an equally unsettling emotion. Attraction.
Kelsey closed her eyes and exhaled. No doubt Dr. Walters would call this progress and be pleased. But Kelsey wasn’t. Because the man in question was here for a very short time on a mission that did not include romance.
Rising, she steadied herself on the edge of the table and ran a finger over the soft fabric that covered the scar on her shoulder. She couldn’t let this flicker of attraction get out of hand. If she did, it could lead to heartbreak. And scars of a different kind.
And she’d already had enough trauma to last a lifetime.
Chapter Four
Luke paused at the top of the long flight of stairs that led to the lake, determined to finally watch a sunset from the beach. Based on the position of the yellow orb, he still had a good hour before it hit the horizon. And that was okay. He’d have plenty of time to eat the sandwich and chips he’d picked up in Saugatuck after his productive meeting with Dennis Lawson, the manager of the hotel where Carlos had worked during his high school years.
He drew in a lungful of fresh air, letting the stillness seep into his pores. Only after arriving in Pier Cove had he realized how parched his soul had been for peace and quiet—rare commodities in his prior life.
And they were his number-one priority for tonight.
Hoisting his beach chair to his shoulder, he started down the steep flight, juggling a cardboard tray containing a cup of coffee and a white deli bag in one hand while keeping a tight grip on the railing with the other.
Although his schedule today had been a cakewalk compared to the grueling pace and intensity of battlefield medicine, he was beat. Tension was so much a part of his life, it was difficult to relax. And that led to soul-deep weariness. The kind that sets in after too much stress over too much time. Today’s meetings, which had all involved baring his soul a little beyond his comfort zone, hadn’t helped, either. Dennis, as well as the mayor and the owner of the land the youth program hoped to buy, had all pressed for details about his experiences with Carlos.
His encounter with his neighbor this morning had also been taxing. In the beginning, anyway. At least they’d parted on better terms after their little tête-à-tête over tea. But she was the most inscrutable female he’d ever met.
Midway down, Luke paused on the landing to readjust his chair as he thought back over their conversation. He had no idea what several of her remarks had meant. Like the one about decisiveness. Had it been prompted by criticism or envy? And what had the comment about being battle-scarred meant? Was it related to the actual physical scar near her collarbone—or was she referring to emotional trauma?
With a shake of his head, he continued to the bottom, then pushed his way through the chest-high beach grass toward the open strip of sand. He was not going to let thoughts of his enigmatic neighbor ruin his evening. Whatever her problems, he had other things to—
His step faltered as he emerged from the grass.
The mystery woman was seated twenty feet away on the beach.
Wonderful.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, he sized up the situation. She’d chosen a spot a little to the right of the position she’d occupied on Saturday, angled away from the path. Like him, she was dressed in jeans. A loose fitting knit top disguised her pregnancy, and a jacket rested on the sand beside her, as did an insulated mug with a lid. She was hatless tonight, and the wind was ruffling her silky blond hair as she focused on a pad of paper in her lap.
In the distance, a family group was gathered around a bonfire. But she seemed as oblivious to their presence as she was to his.
Good. He hoped she stayed that way.
Skirting the beach grass, he worked his way down the sand in the other direction, until a good fifty feet separated them. While he opened his chair, sat and retrieved his sandwich from the white bag, he kept an eye on his neighbor. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t notice him until she was ready to leave.
Unfortunately, his luck didn’t hold that long. As he started on the second half of his turkey sandwich, she looked toward the horizon. A few seconds later, she turned her head in his direction.
And froze.
Luke stopped chewing and forced himself to raise a hand in greeting, as the manners his mother had instilled in him kicked in.
For