but it was a disaster.”
They gave their orders to the waiter. When the young man left a heavy silence enveloped the table.
Irene seemed absorbed in her glass of wine and the view of the night-darkened lake.
Luke wondered if he had made a serious mistake when he suggested that they change the topic of conversation. Maybe she found him hopelessly dull and boring if they weren’t discussing the proble n Dunsley. He wondered what she talked about when she was with other men.
“Looks like rain,” he said, digging deep for inspiration.
“Mmm, yes.”
Dig deeper, pal. You’re losing her here.
He reached into the bread basket and selected a breadstick.
Inspiration finally struck.
“I have to put in an appearance at the Old Man’s birthday celebration tomorrow night,” he said.
“I could use a sidekick.”
She gave him a blank look. “Sidekick?”
“Date,” he corrected quickly.
“You need a date to go to a birthday party?”
“Trust me, we’re not talking a small family get-together. The Old Man’s birthday is a major social even n Santa Elena. Every winemaker in the valley and a lot of people from the town will be there. You’d be doing me a very big favor.”
“Sounds like fun,” she said. “I’d love to go with you.”
He suddenly felt remarkably more cheerful. “Thanks. We’ll drive to Santa Elena tomorrow afternoon. The party will run late, so we might as well spend the night at the Santa Elena Inn and return to Dunsley the following morning.”
“Just one thing,” she said.
“What?”
“Why will I be doing you a big favor?”
He turned the wineglass a little between his fingers, deciding how much to tell her.
“I’ve alread xplained that my family has been worried about me for the past few months.”
“Yes.”
” I think that if I show up with you, it will reassure everyone.”
“Ah,” she said. “Got it. You think that if you arrive at the party with a date, your relatives will think you’re moving past the PTSD thing and getting back to normal.”
He took a swallow of the wine and slowly lowered the glass. “Unfortunately, it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“How much more complicated can it get?”
“Like I said, when I got out of the Marines, everyone was very anxious for me to return to the family fold. What can I say? Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“In other words, you subscribed to the notion of getting back to a normal life.
What’s wrong with that?”
He looked at her. “Lady, I’m a Marine. I don’t just subscribe to notions. Once I decided to go fo ormal, I committed myself one hundred percent to the mission. I established the goal and devised a strategy for achieving my objective. I then proceeded to execute that strategy using a very precise timetable.”
She winced. “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh is right. Turns out being normal is a little trickier than it looks. One of those nuance things,
I guess.”
“What happened?”
“Well, I was doing okay for a while,” he said judiciously. “Making real progress. Met my first objective just fine. Took the job in the family business. It was boring as hell, of course, but I did it. Went to lot f meetings. Read the company financials. Entertained some clients. But I ran into a little trouble wit he second objective.”
“Which was?”
“I decided that part of the definition of being normal meant getting married and starting a family.”
She watched him with a veiled expression. “Jason said something about an engagement that did no ork out?”
“Dad’s partner, Gordon Foote, has a daughter. Katy. She’s couple years older than Jason. Her parents were divorced when she was in her teens. She spent most of her time with her father and that mean he grew up in the wine business, surrounded by Danners. She works in the public relations department.
I’ve known her all of her life.”
“You asked Katy to marry you?”
“In hindsight, I can only say that it seemed like a perfectly logical move. Katy seemed to think so, too, because she accepted. The family was thrilled. But something was missing.”
“Such as?”
He moved a hand. “Romance. Passion. Sex.”
“Sex was missing from your relationship?”
“A few friendly kisses and hugs and that was about it. So, being a trained, strategic thinker, I decide hat the problem was too much family. Figured we needed some time to ourselves.
Long walks on the beach. Dinners by candlelight. You know the routine.”
She looked thoughtful. “Actually, I don’t think of romance as a routine, exactly.”
He ignored the interruption, determined to finish what he had started. “I asked Katy to go away wit e for a long weekend at a secluded inn on the coast.”
“Something went wrong?”
“Almost immediately, I realized that we had made a major mistake. Katy agreed. We went home an old everyone that we had called off the engagement.”
“Sad but not exactly a disaster. Where’s the problem?”
“The problem,” he said evenly “is that everyone, including y assumes that the reason I called off the engagement is because I was unable to perform my duties in the bedroom.”
Irene stared at him, clearly torn between shock and laughter.
“Oh, dear,” she whispered.
“You think being slapped with a diagnosis of PTSD is hard to overcome? Try getting stuck with the Erectile Dysfunction label.”
Twenty-Three
Luke brought the SUV to a halt in front of Irene’s well-lit cabin, switched off the engine and got out.
Irene watched him walk around the front of the vehicle to open her door. Scary anticipation and an unfamiliar excitement fizzed through her. Would he kiss her again tonight?
This was ridiculous. She was acting like a teenager on her first big date. Except that she’d never fel ike this on any date in her life, she reminded herself.
The door opened. Before she could negotiate her way out of the front seat, Luke’s hands settled around her waist, snug, secure and powerful. He lifted her out and set her lightly on the ground as though she were weightless.
He walked her toward the front porch, not saying a word. The suspense was threatening to steal her breath. He took her key and opened the front door.
“The drive to Santa Elena takes about an hour,” he said. “Well need time to check into the inn, mee he family and get dressed for the big event. What do you say we leave here at fifteen hundred hours?”