Back To Luke

Jayne cleared her throat and moved into the sunlight.

Every single muscle in Luke’s body seemed to stiffen. For a moment he simply stood there, staring up at her. Jayne forced herself to hold her ground, despite the flinty look in his eyes that made her shiver.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he finally said.

“Eleanor invited me to stay with her.”

“You can’t do that.”

Jayne squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Back off, Luke. I’m not as easily intimidated as I was when I knew you in New York.”

“You ran, Jayne. Like you’ve been running all your life.” Luke made a sound of disgust. “And I never knew you, lady. Never.” With that he stalked away.

Dear Reader,

When I plan out a novel, I always think about the themes. Back to Luke deals with two primary themes: making mistakes then living with them, and what happens in a relationship when trust is betrayed?

Jayne Logan and Luke Corelli are flawed characters, which I like about them. Some bad things have happened to them and both have made one big mistake in their lives. They have to live with what they’ve done and promise to do better. Of course, they slip up.

Then there’s the issue of trust. We all want to trust the people we love. And sometimes others don’t live up to the faith we’ve put in them. Do I think we can regain another person’s trust after betraying it? Yes. Do I think it’s easy? No. Luke and Jayne find this out. Not only have they let each other down, but one of them does what he’s promised he’ll never do. To me, this situation is the epitome of trust. I’ve used it before, and when the betrayal occurs and the other person realizes what’s happened, I often cry myself. Trust is fragile and can be broken at any time. What we do afterward alters the relationship and maybe our lives.

As for Luke and Jayne, their bumpy road to happiness is similar to all of ours, and I hope you can relate to each of them. Rest assured, there is a happy ending.

Want to learn more about me and my work? Visit me at www.kathrynshay.com. There are book trailers and a blog I update frequently. You can also see the blog at www.livejournal.com/kathrynshay. And you can connect with me on MySpace, at www.myspace.com/kathrynshay. Or write to me at kshayweb@rochester.rr.com.

Happy reading,

Kathryn Shay

BACK TO LUKE

Kathryn Shay

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kathryn Shay is the author of twenty-four Harlequin Superromance books and nine novels and two novellas from the Berkley Publishing Group. She has won several awards. Among them are five Romantic Times BOOKreviews awards, three Holt Medallions, three Desert Quill awards and a Booksellers’ Best Award. A former high school teacher, she lives in upstate New York, where she sets many of her stories.

To my good friend Eleanor Pierce, eighty-nine years young this month, who served as the model for the Eleanor in the book.

Thank you so much for all you’ve taught me and the time you’ve spent with me.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

JAYNE LOGAN WAS a desperate woman. As she stood at the edge of the rest area overlooking Riverdale, nestled in a valley in Upstate New York, she admitted the stark truth to herself—she had no place else to go. Where people cared about her, anyway. Her life was in shambles, her parents were completely unsupportive, as usual, and over the years she’d alienated most of the acquaintances she’d managed to make.

Except for Jess Harper, her best friend from college, the man who’d been her lifeline in good times and bad. Their estrangement hadn’t been her fault. She could still see him in front of his mother’s house, tears in his eyes, six years ago.

I’ll let you go, Jaynie. But only if you promise me one thing. If you ever need me, really need me, you’ll call or come to Riverdale.

Well, she thought, shaking her head, she really needed him now—enough to risk what could very well be a powder keg of reaction from his wife, even after all these years. Naomi Harper’s jealousy was the reason Jayne and Jess had cut off all ties and agreed not to see each other. At first they’d exchanged e-mails, then their contact had dwindled to cards at holiday time. In some ways, Jayne felt like she’d lost a limb when Jess and his mother, Eleanor, were no longer part of her life.

Pushing away memories of Naomi—they made her feel selfish for coming to town—Jayne got into the front seat of her rented Lexus and headed into Riverdale. Its population was about twenty thousand, but the place had the feel of a much smaller town. It hadn’t changed much, either, she thought as she drove along Route 17 and into the heart of the city bisected by the Chemung River, with its quaint streets, old-school architecture and the glass factory’s tall white tower. The edifice stood above the business area and blew its horn morning, noon and night, like a watchful parent guarding his children and calling them to work. Most of the townspeople had jobs in the factory or at headquarters, which she passed on the right. The beautiful black glass building rose up twenty stories, all sleek lines and interesting rounded corners.

Her heart began to thump in her chest as she turned off Sunset Boulevard and drove up Lexington Avenue, one of the many hills over which the population sprawled. She remembered when Jess had bought the big gray-shingled house on Second Street, near a park where his girls could play and surrounded by neighbors who had, of course, become his close friends. Everybody loved Jess and rightly so, given his generous nature and a sense of humor that could put anyone at ease.

Turning left, she pulled up to the curb and frowned. The house looked…shut down. She knew he still lived here. She’d gotten a Christmas card from him only four months ago. Damn it, she should have called. But she hadn’t forewarned her friend of her visit because she hadn’t been sure she’d actually come to Riverdale until she arrived.

Sliding out of her car, warmed by the April sun, Jayne took the concrete path to the sidewalk, climbed the first set of steps and the second. The front porch faced the entire valley and held a couple of lounge chairs; she noticed a small bike and a big-wheeled scooter tucked into the corner. They belonged to his girls. Suddenly, Jayne needed to see solid, family-man Jess more than ever.

She rang the doorbell. No one answered. The blinds were all closed and the house felt deserted. Because she was an architect, buildings were her best friends and she had a sixth sense about them.

“If you’re lookin’ for the Harpers, they aren’t home.”

Jayne turned to find a man on the sidewalk below. “Excuse me?”

“Jess and his family. They’re gone.” He smiled. “They went to Disney World. Naomi won the trip from the Glass Works. Needless to say, the kids were chompin’ at the bit to get there. Jess took them on their spring break from school.”

With a heavy heart, Jayne descended the two sets of steps, aware of the sounds of children playing in the yard next door and a lawn mower buzzing down the street.

The man had dark hair and eyes, and a kind smile. He held out a beefy hand. “Bill Parks. I went to high school with Jess. Now we’re neighbors.”

“Jayne Logan.” They shook. “Jess and I were in college together.”

His brow furrowed. “Did he know you were comin’?”

She shook her head. “I should have called.” Now what was she going to do?

“You know his mom, Eleanor?”

“Yes, very well, as a matter of fact.”

“She’s still livin’ up on Fifth Street. Might be nice for you to go see her. She’s probably lonely for Jess. They took the girls out of school early for a two-week trip.”

As she often did, Jayne wondered what it would be like to live in a small town and have everybody know your business.

“I’d love to see Eleanor.” She reached for her phone. “Oh, wait, I don’t have her number in my contacts list.”

“I think she uses her cell now.”

“Eleanor has a cell phone?” Jayne couldn’t picture the older woman with modern technology.

“Yeah, no grass grows under her feet. You know the address?”

Never would Jayne forget the house Eleanor lived in. A stately three-story structure, it sported slate-blue siding, black shutters and huge porches that wrapped around the back and sides. And there were those beautiful gardens. Eleanor had taught Jayne everything she knew about growing things, and Jayne had missed the flowers and digging in the dirt when she’d moved to California, where she only had time for work and sleep. “Yes, I know where Eleanor lives.”

The trip over to Chestnut Street and up to Fifth took only ten minutes. As she caught sight of the house, a rush of emotion flooded her. The place was as beautiful as ever, but something else caused her heart to swell and tears to spring to her eyes—memories of the time she’d spent here in Eleanor’s loving care, having in Jess the brother she’d always wanted. Since they’d both been only children, Jess had felt the same way about her.

She parked at the curb, exited the car and hurried up a walkway flanked by pink and purple crocuses and sunny daffodils. For a minute, she just stood in front of the double front oak doors and laid her hand on the smooth, cool wood. Then she pressed the bell.

No answer.

Damn it.

Again, she rang.

Still, no answer. But contrary to Jess’s house, this place was open and alive. Windows were raised on all three floors, allowing in the air, which in her mind had always meant the house was breathing in and out.

Maybe Eleanor was in the back, working in the gardens. She followed the brick path around to the rear and more of the flowers came into view, startling Jayne for a moment. So many colors. So many different varieties. Her favorites had always been the summer wildflowers, but Eleanor preferred the roses. Because it was April, other plants bloomed now. Jayne couldn’t remember all their names but did recognize the snapdragons and the purple and white irises. The blossoms filled the air with sweet perfume like nothing man could manufacture in a lab.

Eleanor wasn’t working on the beds, and though the shed door was ajar, Jayne didn’t see anyone inside. She glanced up at the back porch. The door to the kitchen was open to the screen. With more anticipation than she’d had for anything in a long time, she climbed the steps and called out, “Eleanor, are you in there?”

No one responded. Jayne put her hand on the knob and had pulled the screen open a few inches when she heard behind her, “Hey there, darlin’, what are you doing?”

The deep rumble of a male voice startled her and she jumped back as if she were breaking and entering. Her heart beating at a clip, she pivoted to find a man at the bottom of the steps. A big, half-naked man.

She was standing in the shadows, and he was in the bright sunlight, so it took a minute for her eyes to adjust. Oh, God, it was Luke Corelli! Someone she’d known a lifetime ago.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” His eyes narrowed. She couldn’t see their color, but she knew they were brown, deep and rich to match the mane of dark hair on his head and whorls of it on his bare chest. It was a chest that at one time she’d explored intimately. Her gaze dropped lower to the nicely corded muscles of his legs and work boots on his feet.

A chuckle. “Like what you see?” he asked.

Dear Lord, he didn’t recognize her. But why would he? She was a different woman, both physically and in personality, from the one he’d known twelve years ago when they’d both been twenty-six.

She cleared her throat and moved into the sunlight. “Hello, Luke.”

Every single muscle in his body stiffened. For a moment, he just stood there, staring up at her from the ground; then, slowly, he climbed the steps until they were on the same level. Jayne wanted to inch back but forced herself to hold her ground, despite the flinty look in his eyes that made her shiver. Trying to conceal her reaction, she threw back her shoulders and faced him down.

Finally, he said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

LUKE STARED at the woman standing before him. Dressed in a tailored beige suit, she was taller than he remembered and her demeanor made her seem more confident and formidable than the eager junior architect she’d been over a decade ago when they’d hooked up in New York City. And, damn it to ever-loving hell, she was even more of a knockout now. Dark-as-midnight hair, cut short and feathery around a flawless face. He’d told her she had Liz Taylor eyes. Once, he’d fallen for their combination of innate sophistication and vulnerability. But no more. Never again.

“I asked you what you’re doing here?”

Jayne Logan had wreaked havoc in Jess’s family, something Luke had only found out about after she’d left him. Discovering that little tidbit made him understand why she’d insisted on keeping her relationship with Luke a secret from Jess.

“I’m here to see Eleanor.”

“What, after you abandoned her? It was hard for Miss Ellie when you stopped coming to Riverdale.”

Warmth and humor filled those violet eyes. “I forgot you called her that.”

A small dog came running around the side of the house and flew up the steps. It was a beautiful little Yorkshire terrier with black and golden hair on a long leash. Bending over, Luke scooped the animal into his hands. “Shh…it’s all right, Krystle.”

“I see you’re still living on the set of nighttime soaps.”

Luke had a slew of sisters and, growing up, all of them had loved Dallas and Dynasty. As a hormone-crazed teenager, he got to watch Sammy Jo—aka Heather Locklear—every week, so he didn’t complain.

“Forget about that.” About everything he’d told her when he’d fallen like the proverbial ton of bricks for her. “Explain to me why you’re back in Riverdale after all these years.”

She bristled and said, “That’s my business,” and nodded to the house. “Is Eleanor home?”

“No, she left for church right after I got here.”

“That’s right, it’s Sunday.”

“Don’t go to church anymore?”

“No. You?”

Not since the course of events in his life had destroyed his faith in a Supreme Being. To some degree, the woman before him had been a part of those events. “No.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Last I knew you were in New York, making mega bucks. You said you’d never come back to live in a small town.”

“I changed my mind.” To avoid telling her why, to avoid explaining the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he gestured to the other side of the porch, walked over a few feet and turned the corner. She followed. “I’m building that for Miss Ellie. It’s done, except for the painting.”

“It’s beautiful. I love gazebos. There’s this really nice one in Paris in the—”

“Versailles Gardens. I know.”

She cocked her head at him, a frown marring her brow. “You used to live overseas and traveled in Europe. I forgot about that.”

Of course she had. This woman was very good at forgetting.

“How come Jess didn’t build it?”

“For one thing, I like doing stuff for Miss Ellie and this is a gift from my whole family for her seventy-fifth birthday. Besides, it’s already too much for Jess, trying to keep up with the flowers Miss Ellie can’t get to, work, pitch in as Annie’s soccer coach and do all the other things a husband and dad has to do.”

“When will he be back?”

“End of the week.”

Her eyes filled with something. Sadness, maybe, or was it fear? Whatever it was made them glisten like wet amethysts. And he remembered how the expression sucker punched him every time she got upset.

“Oh, dear.”

“He couldn’t have known you were coming.” Luke’s tone was gruff, and he had to shake off the kernel of reaction forming in his belly.

“He didn’t.” She nodded to the house. “Nor does Eleanor.”

There was noise inside, and then Miss Ellie came to the screen, dressed in her Sunday best—a pretty pink suit, which set off her snow-white hair and still-sparkling blue eyes. “Luke, dear, I saw a Lexus parked out front. Did one of your female friends drive over to help you finish painting the gazebo?”

“Come onto the porch, Miss Ellie,” he said gently.

Pushing open the screen, the older woman stepped outside and addressed the dog. “Hello there, Krystle. Having a nice time with Luke?” She glanced to the side and saw Jayne. “Oh. You must be a friend…” Her hand went to her chest. “Oh, dear Lord, Jaynie. Jaynie!”

Jaynie’s face transformed from stone-cut marble to soft sandstone. “Hello, Eleanor, I…”

Suddenly, Jayne closed the gap between her and Miss Ellie and threw herself into the older woman’s arms. From his vantage point, Luke saw Jayne close her eyes and hold on for dear life. The intimacy of their reunion made him feel like a voyeur.

Miss Ellie ran her hand over Jayne’s hair. He remembered when it was longer and he could wrap it around his fist. “I’m so glad you’re here,” the older woman said. “I was praying for you just now in church, as I do every Sunday. God must have heard me today.”

Still Jayne held on, as if she wasn’t used to human contact.

Miss Ellie shot a worried glance at Luke. “Jaynie, are you all right?”

Jayne shook her head.

“Then you’ve come to the right place. Whatever it is, Jessie and I will help.”

Luke could barely hear Jayne when she spoke. “I’m in trouble, Eleanor. Big trouble.”

Oh, great, Luke thought. Not only had she abandoned Miss Ellie years ago, stirred up all kinds of things between Jess and Naomi, and ditched Luke without a second thought, now she was in big trouble and had come here to dump whatever it was on them.

Luke couldn’t watch the scene before him so he left the porch and went back to the gazebo. Jayne’s appearance in town had thrown him. But he knew one thing for certain. He’d learned his lesson twelve years ago and was sure as hell going to make sure Jayne Logan didn’t take advantage of two of the people he loved most in the world.

CHAPTER TWO

BECAUSE JAYNE needed some time to collect herself, Eleanor had gone inside to make lemonade. Jayne walked around the house to a wrought-iron table and chairs. She slipped off the jacket she’d layered over a brown silk shirt and that was now making her warm. Draping it over the back of one of the chairs, she sat. From there, she studied the gazebo.

The whole structure was in keeping with the materials and the lines and angles of the main house. Black shingles matched those on the big roof, as did the slate-blue siding around the bottom half. She wondered what color he was going to paint the posts. They wouldn’t be left natural, because he was up on a ladder priming them right now.

The noonday sun glistened off his sweaty skin, emphasizing his darkly tanned back and the breadth of his shoulders. God, she couldn’t believe he was here, in Riverdale. She’d never even considered that he’d be back in town, or she most certainly wouldn’t have come. When she knew him in New York, he and his friend Timmy had been making their first million, already at age twenty-six, and Luke had told her he’d never leave the big city. She wondered if Timmy was in Riverdale, too. She’d have to ask Eleanor about him.

The older woman exited from the side French doors and set down glasses of lemonade. Jayne was glad for the distraction from Luke. “Now, tell me everything, dear.”

Jayne began simply. “Do you remember when I sent you the pictures and newspaper clippings of one of my buildings? The Coulter Gallery of Antiquities?”

“Yes, it’s lovely. So innovative and well designed.”

“Maybe not so well designed. The walkway that circled the interior of the building just…collapsed a few weeks ago.” Every time she talked about this, Jayne’s stomach clenched and her head began to hurt. “Luckily, there weren’t any patrons in the gallery—it closes at nine and this happened about two in the morning. But many of the artifacts were destroyed.”

Jayne shook her head, recalling the horrific phone call she’d received from the police. What had begun that day was a nightmare of epic proportions.

Ms. Logan? This is Chief Edwards of the LAPD. The upper walkway in the Coulter Gallery caved in. It did a lot of damage. Nobody was hurt, but we have a mess on our hands. The mayor said to contact your firm. We need the building plans and a consultation with you.

Bolting out of bed, she’d dressed hurriedly and sped over to the gallery. She’d never forget the sight of one of her babies maimed and crumpled into itself, or the smell of splintered wood and the light dusting of broken concrete filling the interior. Priceless artifacts, some of which were in now-smashed cases, some freestanding in the main area, were in shards. Later she would learn the astronomical cost of their ruin.

Eleanor’s touch on Jayne’s hand pulled her from the memory. “Oh, Jaynie, I’m so sorry. I know how important your career is to you. What caused the collapse?”

“We don’t have the results of the investigation yet. And I keep going over the plans and racking my brain for what I might have done wrong. I can’t find anything.” She sighed. “So far, neither can the independent firm I hired to determine what happened.”

“Then there’s a good chance you didn’t make a mistake.”

“I’m truly hoping that, Eleanor. Meanwhile, I just have to wait.”

“You’ll do that here.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll wait for the board’s findings in Riverdale with people who love you.”

Stunned at the unconditional acceptance, Jayne couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat.

Eleanor’s gaze was knowing. There were few secrets between the Harpers and Jayne. She’d come to Riverdale on most of her college vacations instead of going to her parents’ house because they were busy or traveling. “You went home first, didn’t you?”

Jayne nodded.

“And your father wasn’t supportive.”

That was an understatement. It was the confrontation with Andrew Logan that had driven her from the Hamptons. He’d actually scolded her for having gotten herself in this situation and turned his back on her. She’d been foolish to go to him, to think that this time he’d be genuinely concerned for her welfare rather than her success.

“Jayne? What did Andrew do when you told him?”

“He wasn’t happy with me at all. He thought I should go back to California and fight this.”

“Could you do that?”

“No. They have my drawings, the specs from the contractors and the builders, and information from everyone else involved in the gallery’s construction. They don’t want any more of my input.” She shook her head. “So I won’t be going back to New York, either. The office closes for the month of May while everyone takes vacation. I usually go to my condo in Florida and sketch out some preliminary drawings for new projects before we get to them formally. I’ll head down there to do that, but I wanted to see you and Jess first.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You’ll stay here with me.” She gestured to Luke, who’d taken a break.

Following Eleanor’s gaze, Jayne watched him pull a bandanna out of his shorts pocket and wipe his brow, then take a swig of bottled water. Her attention riveted on his throat and she remembered with vivid clarity putting her mouth there.