Chapter 5

Half an hour later - Luke

If there was one thing I remembered about Ellie, it was that she hated it when people were late. I assumed it was due to the stick that lived up her ass. Though, to be fair, it was probably partially because she was a nurse practitioner, and people who had to live by appointments all day needed to be on time, which stood to reason. But I personally lived by the rule that give or take half an hour was essentially on time. It was something she'd given me hell for on several occasions. I'd never given a care before, but now that I was trying to convince her to be my nurse, I'd even set an alarm on my watch to ensure I made it up to her room on time.

I'd given Ellie the biggest of all the guest rooms. Kicked Remington out of it for the occasion. He didn't mind because he was a guy and couldn't care less where he slept. I didn't even want to think about what he and my sister were probably doing in another guest room down the hall at the moment. I fully intended to skip that part of the house on the tour I had planned for Ellie.

I knocked on the big white door that led to her room. When the door opened, I sucked in my breath. And I'm pretty sure I made an embarrassing sound doing it. But I couldn't help myself. Ellie had been hot earlier when I saw her sitting on the couch, her blonde hair up in a long ponytail, making a white t-shirt and jeans look sexy as fuck, but she had changed into a black sweater and black leggings and her hair was down way past her shoulders. Her clear green eyes were framed with thick black lashes and those leggings hugged every curve of her rockin' body. The girl was a smoke show, pure and simple. She always had been, but she'd also always been my sister's best friend, which meant she was off-limits. But I was still a man and could appreciate a gorgeous woman when I saw her.

I lifted my right arm and put my hand on top of my head out of nervous habit. But I was never nervous around girls and never ever nervous around Meg and her best friend. The two of them had been running around next to me their whole lives. And even though Ellie had been seriously hot since somewhere around high school, I still had only looked at her as my little sister's best friend and as a girl I loved to tease. I mean, the high school was full of pretty girls. I didn't need to hit on my sister's friend. What a shitshow that would have been when it went south. And it would go south. All of my relationships went south. And I was the common denominator.

But standing here, staring at Ellie in her black sweater and leggings, all I could think about was how hard my cock was and how frickin' intensely inappropriate that was. I was trying to hire this woman to help me. I had no intention of sexually harassing her while I was at it. Was getting a hard-on considered sexual harassment? Probably. Damn it. I had no control over it. I merely hoped she wouldn't notice.

"Hi," I said stupidly, still pressing my hand to the top of my head.

"Hi," she replied, and the bright smile she gave me did nothing to stop the rising appreciation in my pants.

"How do you like your room?" I asked. Damn. Being nice to Ellie was freakin' awkward. I wanted to call her Nurse Ratched. I wanted to ask her how the bug up her ass was doing. But I couldn't because A) I needed her help and B) I'd promised Meggie I'd be nice. Well, Meg had requested I be "sweet," but that was a step too far. Nice was all I had in me.

Ellie turned to look back at the huge room. I was relieved because it gave me a moment to step inside and adjust my junk before she turned back.

"It's absolutely gorgeous," she replied. "I especially love the flowers."

"Yeah." I made my way to the center of the room where a big crystal vase sat, filled with a bunch of kinds of flowers I'd never seen before. It was nice to have a minute to stand in front of the table until my wood went down. "All the really nice hotels do it too. My decorator suggested it."

"Your decorator has great taste," Ellie replied.

A little shot of relief went through me. I thought the house looked good, but I'd always been worried that other people would think it was ostentatious. Especially someone like Ellie, who'd seen the house I grew up in. Back then, my bedroom door had been an old sheet hung between two nails.

Meg, of course, had assured me the house was beautiful, but she was my sister. She had to be nice. Ellie had never been nice to me for nice's sake. Oh, damn. A terrible thought shot through my head. "You're not just saying that because I'm a patient, are you?"

Her brows lifted. "What? Me be nice to you out of pity? Sorry, I think your injuries would have to be a lot worse. Like deathbed worse. Besides, I was going to say, it's way too awkward to hear you try to be nice to me."

I released my pent-up breath. "Oh, thank God. Because I've been wanting to call you Nurse Ratched since I saw you downstairs."

She shook her head and slid her tongue over her bottom lip, which did something else to my cock. Jesus, what was going on with me today? This was Ellie. I'd been around her countless times before and never had to worry about the wood in my pants.

"Not so fast," she said. And I was grateful for the distraction. "I'm not giving you carte blanche to be mean to me again. I merely think a little well-timed name-calling might keep it from being weird between us."

"Agreed." I nodded and stuck my right hand into my jeans pocket. "And for the record, I was never mean to you."

She arched her brow at me so hard I thought the thing might break in two.

"Okay. Fine." I winced. "Mebbe a little. Mebbe every once in a while. But I've changed. I'm a grown-up now, Nurse Jackie. I promise."

"That remains to be seen," she replied, shaking her head so her hair spilled over her shoulders.

Damn. Her hair. I wanted to reach out and stroke it, bury my fingers in it, and— No. That was an unhelpful thought. A seriously unhelpful thought.

"Wanna see the rest of my crib?" I asked. Anything to stop thinking about her hair. What the hell was wrong with me? And when had I ever thought about Ellie's hair? I mean, it had been a hot minute since I'd gotten laid. A broken arm and trust issues will do that to a guy. But the lusting over Ellie had to stop.

"I'd love to," she shot back.

"Let's go." Thankful for the distraction, I turned and led her down the hallway to the back staircase. "We'll start with the basement."

We descended the staircase together, down both floors, and when we made it to the basement, I opened the door to the first room.

"This is the gym," I said, even knowing it had to be obvious. The room was decked out with all sorts of fitness machines. Two Peloton bikes, two treadmills, lots of weights, a resistance ball, and even a pair of yoga mats.

"I never knew you liked to work out," she said, stepping over to the yoga mats which sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror along one wall.

"Neither did I," I said with a laugh. "My manager likes it for me more than I do. Turns out it's true that cameras add ten pounds."

"Is working out in your contract?" she asked with a laugh.

"No, but don't think they didn't try it."

I moved on to the door at the far end of the gym. It opened into something the decorator called the post-workout room. It consisted of a wooden sauna, an in-ground hot tub, a steam room with a four-sided shower, and a cold-plunge dipping pool.

"Wow," Ellie said when she stepped into the room. "Is that a shower? It's bigger than my bedroom."

"Yeah, it's a steam room too. Eucalyptus steam." I grinned at her.

Her brows drew together. "Is that a thing?"

"Apparently." I shrugged my unhurt shoulder.

She opened the door to the sauna and a puff of hot, humid air came out. "Is there eucalyptus in here too?"

"Nah, I prefer mint in there."

She laughed and it occurred to me that making her laugh felt good. A little too good. "You have a really pretty laugh," I said.

"Seriously?" She gave me full side-eye as if she didn't believe me at all.

"Yeah, I didn't hear it enough growing up."

She glanced away and her throat worked as she swallowed. Then she pointed toward the next door with her chin. "Lead on."

I opened the next door and we stepped inside. "This is the game room. Pool table, foosball table, tables for poker and chess."

"An electric dartboard?" Ellie said, her brows shooting up. "I love darts. Ooh, and is that a pinball machine?"

"Yep." I nodded.

Ellie moved over to an L-shaped couch that sat in front of the giant-screen TV. "For video games?"

"I like to play them sometimes when I'm stressed out."

"Me too."

"Really?" You could've knocked me over with a feather. Ms. Hoffman played video games? Who knew?

In the middle of the room was a fully stocked bar with six stools around it. Ellie moved straight to the bar and peered over the counter. "Kegs of beer?" she asked, arching a brow.

"You can take the man out of Milwaukee, but you can't take the Milwaukee out of the man," I said with a grin. "There's other alcohol back there too."

She turned back to face me and cocked her head. "Got any wine?"

"Not here, but there's a whole wine room upstairs off the kitchen."

"Of course there is," she replied, smiling and shaking her head. "Don't tell me you drink wine now."

"No, but I have it for when people like you come to visit." It had taken nearly everything I had in me to keep from saying "for when wine snobs like you come to visit." We'd had the wine/beer argument many times over the years. I seriously doubted she'd want to start it up again now though. And I was trying to convince her to stay. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice.

"This way." I motioned for her to follow me through the next door. "This is my recording studio," I said when the door shut behind us.

Ellie's eyes got wide as moons.

"The walls are double studded with acoustic slate," I explained, motioning toward the slats of wood along the four walls. "Remington did it."

Ellie went over to the wall and ran her hand along the thin strips of wood. "Wow. Pretty nice."

"Thanks." It wasn't lost on me that these were some of the most civilized words Ellie and I have ever shared. I guess I had been an ass, never being all that nice to her. I'd always seen it as just joking. And she'd given me shit too. But now that we weren't joking anymore, I could see how she might have just assumed I was a big jerk. Damn. That was a sobering thought.

Two of my guitars were sitting on stands near the wall and the ridiculously expensive mic and pop-guard were square in the center of the room in front of a stool.

Ellie glanced toward the booth along the back wall. "Do you record your songs here?"

"Sometimes, and sometimes the guys from my band come by. We also have professional recording staff."

She nodded. "Nice."

"This is my favorite room in the house."

"Why?" The quiet sincerity in her voice caught me by surprise.

I scrubbed the back of my neck with my right hand. "I don't know. I guess I just love to come in here and shut everything out."

Why did that feel like I'd shared too much?

She pointed her chin toward the loveseat along the middle wall. "Is this where you write your songs?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Sometimes."

"Oh, I can see why it's your favorite room then. You do what you love in here." Her smile felt like a jab to my gut. Weird.

I nodded again, but the only thought in my head was that I'd brought women in here before to impress them and they'd never asked me that question or had that response. None of them. Not one.

Still pondering that weird thought and the unexpected gut jab, I pushed open the door to the next room.

"Theater?" Ellie asked, whistling again as she peered at the big seats that sat on raised platforms facing the screen wall.

"Yes, all six of those leather recliners have cup holders and fold-out trays."

"Really?"

"Yep, and the screen has the latest tech in movie projectors and movie-quality-sound speakers built into the walls." Oh, God. Did it sound like I was bragging? I hoped not. The last thing I wanted was for Ellie to have anything else to fault me on.

"Nice," Ellie said, laughing again. "And to think, I just sit on my couch in front of my TV with a bowl of microwave popcorn."

I grinned at her. "It's all of the fun of going to the movie theater with none of the excitement of being chased by crazed fans."

Ellie's mouth formed an O. Of course, she'd probably never considered that before. But that was my life now and for the first time, this room seemed over-the-top to me. I quickly stepped through it and pushed open the door on the far side of the room, which led to the other staircase.

"So that's mostly it for the basement," I said as I led Ellie back up to the ground floor. We came out of a door that opened into the marble-floored foyer.

"I swear this foyer alone is bigger than my trailer growing up," Ellie said.

"Yep, no more curtain walls for me."

Ellie turned in a wide circle to look up at the marble staircase that led to the second floor. A huge sparkling light fixture hung in the center of the round ceiling. "Now that's a chandelier."

I winced and scrubbed at the back of my neck again. "Yeah, it's pretty big."

Ellie pointed up to the ceiling. "You must have special ladders to clean that thing," she said with a snort.

I stepped over to the wall and flipped a switch that began to lower the fixture toward the ground with a low hum.

Her eyes widened again. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope. Apparently, it's a thing."

Feeling hella self-conscious all of a sudden, I flipped the switch again to move the fixture back in place. I was about to suggest that we cut the tour short when Ellie reached out and touched my unhurt arm. "Hey, this is really amazing, Luke. Seriously. You should be nothing but proud of yourself for all you've accomplished."

A lump immediately lodged itself in my throat. I mean, Meg said similar things all the time, and I appreciated it. But Mom had come to visit only once and told me she would be scared to live in a house this big. And Dad, well, I'd never invited Dad here. Pretty sure some of the fixtures would go missing if he thought he could sell them for gambling money. But Ellie was the only person who'd been here, besides Meg and Mom, who really knew what I'd come from. How hard I'd worked to get here. And her words did something unexpected to my insides.

"Yeah, thanks," was the only stupid thing I could think to spit out.

Ellie gave me a tentative smile that caused that weird gut jab feeling again, so I blew out a deep breath and decided to continue the tour.

I showed her the formal living room and the formal dining room, both rooms I'd never even used, before leading her into another big room next to the living room. A shiny black grand piano sat in the center of the room.

"This is the music room," I said. "Well, my decorator calls it that." I was kicking at the marble floor like a shy fifteen-year-old about to ask a girl to the Homecoming Dance. And to be clear, I hadn't even been a shy floor-kicker when I was fifteen.

Ellie made her way over to the piano and took a seat on the black bench. Her fingers glanced over the keys, but she didn't press any of them. "Do you still play?"

"Yeah," I admitted, scratching the back of my neck with my right hand. Apparently, she remembered that I'd taken piano lessons growing up. Paid for them by doing odd jobs for Mrs. Lester, the piano teacher. I played on keyboards when I could borrow one. We never could afford an actual piano, of course.

"I'd play something for you, but…" I stared down at the sling over my left arm.

Her answering smile made my stomach jab again. What the hell was going on with my stomach? I obviously needed a snack.

"It must be difficult for you to not be able to play your instruments right now," Ellie said.

"It sucks. That's for sure. Especially since I'm left-handed."

"Oof," Ellie said with a wince. "How is your arm feeling?"

"It's fine. A little sore. Aches now and then." I shrugged my unhurt shoulder before barreling right on and leading the way across the hall. It wasn't time to talk about my arm and the real reason for her visit. I had a plan. "This next room is my second favorite."

The minute the door opened, Ellie gasped and her mouth fell open. "What is this?"

She gazed around at the walnut wood shelves that were lined floor-to-ceiling of the two-story room with books. "It's a library," I replied. "I know it's kinda old school and I have an e-reader, too, but honestly I've always loved libraries." I gave her a sheepish grin.

Ellie moved over to the closest shelf and ran her tapered pink fingertip along the titles. "War and Peace? Anna Karenina?"

I shifted on my feet. "Two of my favorites."

Her gaze shot back to mine and her arms promptly folded across her chest. Skepticism dripped from her face. "Are you kidding me? You've read War and Peace?" She narrowed her eyes on me as if she thought I was the biggest liar ever.

"Yeah, I've read them all." How did Ellie not know I liked to read? Meg knew. Oh, yeah, Dumbass, because all you've ever done is give her shit. Ya never discussed the classics.

Her eyes narrowed further. "You've read all these books?"

"Yep." I popped the P for good measure and rocked back and forth on my heels.

"Okay, then, what happens to Anna in the end?" Ellie's eyes were little skeptical slits.

Oh, damn. She was gonna quiz me? Let's go.

"You want the spoiler?" I asked, giving her a shit-eating grin.

"I've read it." Her arms remained crossed. Why did her condescending tone seem a little hot?

"Okay, then. She gets pissed and hops in front of a train. Not a great way to go, but that's Anna for you."

Did I imagine it or did the slightest hint of admiration flicker in Ellie's eyes? If it was admiration, it didn't last long though.

"What war is War and Peace about?" she fired off next without taking a breath.

I blinked at her. "That's a pretty sad question."

"Don't know it?" she challenged, lifting her chin defiantly. Also, a little hot.

I rolled my eyes. "The Napoleonic Wars, Ms. Hoffman." I said the answer super loud and slowly like a smart-ass kid answering his second-grade teacher.

Those eyes were still green slits. "Hmm. That was probably too obvious a question." Arms still crossed, she drummed her fingertips along her elbows, obviously trying to think of the most obscure War and Peace factoid known to man. "What major city were a lot of the battles fought in?"

Easy. "Moscow."

"That's a lucky guess. Everyone knows Moscow is the capital of Russia."

I did nothing to temper my smugness. "Actually, it wasn't the capital at the time. St. Petersburg was."

She turned her head and gave me total side-eye as if she was trying to decide if I'd been replaced by a robot who looked like me and knew things.

"What does Rostov refuse to apologize for?" she fired off next.

Still coming for me? "His insubordination to Lieutenant Telyanin." I blinked at her, fluttering my eyelashes like the smug, smug bastard I was. "And if you'd care to get into the novel's major themes, I like to think at the end of all those pages, it's really about the futility of war."

Ellie dropped her arms to her sides, smiled, and shook her head. Oh, that was chagrin on her face. I knew chagrin when I saw it. "Well, color me impressed, Rockabilly. I had no idea you're that well-read."

I put my right hand on my hip and glared at her. "I should be offended by your disbelief, you know? You do remember I got a full ride to Stanford, don't you?"

She waved a hand in the air. "Yeah, but I thought that was to play football."

My brows shot up. "I got a degree in structural engineering too."

This time she shrugged. "Honestly, I thought they let football players pass all their classes so they can play."

"Wow." I shook my head. "You really don't think highly of me, do you?"

A smile touched her lips. "Can you blame me? You used to pull my hair."

I bit my lip but couldn't stop my laugh. "I haven't pulled your hair since I was what? Seven? Eight?"

Her brows shot up. "Try thirteen."

"Okay, I admit. I was an idiot, but I promise no more hair pulling." I paused for a beat and let a sly smile curve my lips. "Unless you want me to."