“Are you married? Kids?”
She shook her head, still somewhat confounded by this unexpected encounter. “Separated. Almost divorced, actually. No kids. What about you?”
She asked because she felt she had to, but she knew his answer would be negative. Luke Devlin still didn’t look like the kind of man who’d ever be caged behind a white picket fence.
“Nope. Single and free as the breeze.”
That was Luke, all right. The college friend she’d known and loved, and he could still make her laugh. They had met in first-year American History when they’d been paired up to work on a Civil War assignment. Claire had gone on to major in English literature and Luke had settled for being a major babe magnet. She had occasionally played the role of platonic place-holder, hanging out with him after one of his many breakups, letting the old girlfriend think she was the new one. She had always been surprised they fell for it because, let’s face it, serious, studious and slightly overweight Claire DeAngelo was not Luke’s type.
A number of years ago she’d run into one of his old college roommates and he’d told her that Luke had joined the Seattle Police Department. Finding out he’d become a cop had been a shocker but finding him here, working as a window washer, of all things, was a complete bombshell.
“Free as the breeze, huh? Sounds just like the old days,” she said.
“Not quite. I had a pretty serious girlfriend for a while, but it didn’t work out.” His smile faded by a few watts.
What was this? Luke Devlin with a broken heart? Not possible. “Welcome to the club.”
“Seriously? Any guy who’d dump you would have to be crazy.”
“That’s one adjective that works.”
Luke grinned at her. “Misery loves company, isn’t that what they say? We should grab a bite to eat when I get off duty. Off work. We can catch up on however many years it’s been.”
After the insanely busy week she’d had, and especially after that last phone call from her ex, why not? She hadn’t been on a date since Donald left, which meant she technically hadn’t been on a date since before she got married. Not that a casual, off-the-cuff invitation to “grab a bite” constituted a date, but it would be more fun than sitting down to a salad, alone.
“Dinner would great,” she said. “What time?”
“I’m off at five. How does six o’clock sound?”
“Six will work. I’ll meet you downstairs at my front door.”
He kissed her again, on the cheek this time. As she walked away, she half expected him to swat her rear end the way he used to, but it seemed that even a guy like Luke grew up, at least a little. She looked back when she reached the entrance, but he’d already climbed onto the window-washing platform. That’s when she noticed the red lettering on his black T-shirt. Lucky Devil, with three prongs on the tail end of the letter y. She was still laughing when she let herself into the lobby and pushed the elevator button. Back in college she would have given almost anything to go on a date with Luke Devlin, even though he’d had a campus-wide reputation for getting lucky. Now she knew better than to give herself to a bad-boy-cop-turned-window-washer, but for the first Friday night in forever, she had dinner plans.
* * *
LUKE TOSSED THE LAST couple of pylons into the back of the truck. I’ll be damned, he thought. After all these years, he kinda sorta had a date with Claire DeAngelo, and he had just enough time to run this load over to the shop and get back here to meet her. Before he climbed into the cab, he reached up and yanked on the ropes to make sure the platform was secure on the roof rack. Better change your shirt while you’re at it.
He was back at Claire’s condominium complex at five minutes to six. He’d made it home in time to take his dog, Rex, out for a run and grab a shower and a change of clothes, and still made it here with enough time to spare to make it look as if he had all the time in the world. He wasn’t sure why that was important, but he didn’t want to make Claire wait. For one thing, knowing her, she wouldn’t.
He leaned against a light standard, arms folded, and while he waited, he kept a watchful eye on everyone who came and went from Claire’s building. After his years with the Seattle Police Department, maintaining a keen awareness of his surroundings was deeply ingrained. Claire wouldn’t know he was a cop and given his lousy study habits in college, she was probably not surprised to see him washing windows. Just as well. It meant he wouldn’t have to tell her he had her building under surveillance, or why.
She took his breath away the instant she stepped through the door. The reticent, sometimes even awkward study-buddy he’d hung out with in college had outgrown her awkwardness and blossomed into a beautiful, confident woman. She had the same soft blue eyes, still wore glasses instead of contacts, still dressed conservatively but with a lot more style.
She smiled when she saw him and raised one hand as if to wave.
“Claire!” The man who called her name was striding toward her.
She froze and her smile faded.
Okay, something wasn’t right here. Luke straightened and quickly stepped up beside her.
“Donald, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“You hung up on me. We need to talk about selling the penthouse, Claire. And I want that book.”
Ah, yes. The ex. The guy was a little taller than she was, very well dressed and about as intense as they come.
“Not. Now.” Keeping her voice calm seemed to require some effort. “I have plans.” She glanced up at Luke as though seeking confirmation.
Since Luke didn’t like the look of this guy, he was more than happy to play along. He slung an arm across her shoulders and extended a hand to her ex-husband. “Luke Devlin. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Claire’s ex looked momentarily confused and then shot Luke a frosty glare. He grudgingly accepted the handshake, though. Luke didn’t like his grip any more than he liked him. He was trying way too hard to be firm. For one fleeting second, Luke considered making the guy say uncle.
Don’t be a dumb-ass, he chided himself.
“Donald Robinson,” the guy said. After he pulled his hand away, he zeroed in on Claire again. “You can’t keep putting this off.”
This guy wasn’t getting the memo.
Luke drew her closer. “Like Claire said, now’s really not a good time. We should get going, babe. We don’t want to be late.”
She looked up at him, lips ever so slightly parted, and gave him the kind of smile that suggested there was actually something going on between them. Since Donald wouldn’t know there wasn’t, Luke lowered his head and gave her a light, lingering kiss.
“You are so adorable,” he said, purposely making his voice go soft and quiet. “Isn’t she adorable?” he asked Donald.
Donald stammered something that sounded more like an excuse than an apology, and backed away. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said to Claire. “I’ve lined up an appraiser.” He looked uncertainly from her to Luke. “Will you...ah...will you be at home tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I guess you’ll find out when you call.”
For a few seconds Donald looked like he wasn’t going to let this drop, but then he threw up his