Rescue Me: A Bad Boy Military Romance by Vesper Vaughn Page B

He’s tired after his playdate, obviously. I’ll drive you. You can toss your bike in the back.”
    I nod and look up at Luke, who seems disappointed. Alexa looks at both of us and claps her hand over her mouth. “Oh, actually, if Luke wants to drive you-“
    I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. He only got here a bit before you did,” I say. Suddenly I’m not eager to be alone with Luke, my latent feelings for him seeming like a glaring mistake now that the emergency has passed us.
    Alexa mouths a “Sorry” at Luke and heads upstairs.
    I stay behind with Luke for a moment, feeling awkward. “I gotta go,” I say, suddenly nervous.
    “You don’t want to be alone with me? Am I really that bad?” he asks, a playful smile on his lips.
    I push a curl off of my forehead. “Thank you – for…you know. The storm. Getting me down here. I really appreciate it.” I pull at the hem of my dress.
    Luke nods. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he replies. “That AC part should be here in the morning.”
    I nod and swallow, feeling awkward. “Alright. I’ll see you then, I guess.”
    Luke leans down to kiss me and I pull away from him, running up the stairs in my impractical heels. As I lay in bed that night, staring at the low ceiling above me, all I can think about is what could have happened if I’d only let him take me home tonight.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
    LUKE
    ELEVEN YEARS AGO
    I struggle for at least ten minutes trying to get my bowtie tied; I’m feeling ridiculous in my rented tux. I wander into my grandparents’ old bedroom, wishing that my grandpa were still here to do this for me. Maybe if I stand in this space, I’ll get some sort of cosmic assistance from both of them.
    It’s magical thinking, but I’m nervous about tonight.
    I’m never nervous.
    But Ella’s making me that way.
    I finally finish and wander through the old house, everything unchanged in the months since both of my grandparents passed. I reach for the keys to my truck and take one final look in the mirror.
    “You’ve got this, Davis,” I say to my reflection.
    I twirl my keys around my finger and head out the door, trying my best not to speed toward Ella’s place.
    I ring the doorbell and take a step back. Rachel Hanover, Ella’s mom, always intimidates me. She answers the door with a stern look on her face. “Luke,” she says. “Ella’s nearly ready. Come on inside.”
    “Thanks, Mrs. Hanover,” I say, somehow managing to keep my throat from cracking. I walk into their bright, cheery double wide. It’s immaculate and the walls are covered with pictures of Ella through the years.
    I perch nervously on the beige sofa in the living room. Mrs. Hanover calls out from the kitchen. “Anything to drink? Lemonade? Water? Tea? Whiskey?” She ducks her head out of the kitchen. There’s a wry smile on her lips. “Careful how you answer that, young man.”
    I guffaw, thankful that she was kidding. “I don’t drink, Mrs. Hanover. I’ll take some water, though.”
    She smiles wryly. “Good answer.”
    I hear footsteps padding down the carpeted hallway and Ella appears. She takes my breath away. Her hair has been pulled and heated into slick, straight strands. Her eyes sparkle with dark eyeliner and a swish of shimmery tan eye shadow. Her lips are covered in a light pink gloss that enhances them perfectly. And her dress is emerald green and sparkling, a strapless design with a knee-length puff of tulle that makes her look like a fairy.
    A really, really sexy fairy.
    “Hey,” she says shyly. I stand up and walk quickly over to her, kissing her on the lips. She pushes me away. “My mom,” she whispers, eyeing the kitchen.
    I laugh quietly. “Right. The last thing I want to do is piss off your mother.”
    “Good instincts,” Ella whispers back. She laces her fingers in mine and pulls me toward the kitchen. “We’re leaving, Mom.”
    Mrs. Hanover turns around to hand me my glass of water. “Head outside for a minute, Ella.