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The Perfect Liar (Last Stand 5)

Page 41

"Ava?" he prompted.

"What?" Her answer was sullen enough to tell him he'd won.

"I'm starving." He reached across the seat and opened the passenger door. "Get in."

Chapter 17

"Where are you from originally?" Luke asked.

Ava set down her wineglass. She hadn't officially agreed to work with him yet, but she knew she would before the evening was over and so did he. No way could she could pass up a ten-thousand-dollar donation. Skye and Sheridan would kil her if she did. It was a constant struggle to raise the money they needed to keep their doors open. "I was born and raised in Sacramento," she said. Like everything else about her, that wasn't very exciting.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No. Well, a half brother, thanks to my father. My parents' marriage didn't last long enough to create baby number two." They'd already placed their order, but the food seemed to be taking forever. Although a lengthy wait was typical in a steak place, Ava wasn't too thril ed about being sequestered in a booth at the back of the restaurant with this man. Sitting there, she had nothing better to do than admire all the details that came together to make him so handsome.

He swallowed some wine. "What does your father do?"

Great. They were going to continue talking about her background.

This wasn't a topic Ava generally enjoyed, but it seemed prudent to keep her mind occupied. Otherwise, she might be tempted to let her gaze wander over Luke's lips, the muscles in his arms, his eyes, which were the nicest color she'd ever seen. And then there were the long lashes that framed those eyes....

It had definitely been too long since she'd been with a man. She could hardly remember what it felt like. But her imagination was more than ready to step into the gap. And the wine didn't help. She'd eaten her salad and a sourdough roll, but the alcohol stil seemed to be going straight to her head. "He's a high-school football coach," she said.

"So he remarried after the divorce?"

"Three times so far."

"Four marriages in total? You're kidding."

"Women can't resist him." She figured Luke could probably relate.

Kalyna was a case in point. "The first time, he married the substitute teacher with whom he'd been cheating on my mother, and they had one kid, Neal, who's now a card dealer living in Las Vegas."

Luke added more olive oil and balsamic vinegar to the plate they'd used to dip their bread and pushed the basket of rolls toward her. "Do you have any contact with Neal?"

"No. He wants nothing to do with my father or anyone connected to him." She glanced toward the kitchen, hoping to see the waitress carrying out their plates so they could eat and head home, but...no luck. "He and his mother are pretty bitter about the way that marriage ended."

"Your dad cheated on her, too?"

"This time with the mother of one of his students."

Luke made a face. "Nice. Any kids with wife number three?"

"No. They were married very briefly, but only because they were stil seeing each other after the divorce and she turned out to be pregnant.

When a paternity test proved the baby was her ex-husband's, they split."

"Messy. How'd he get to wife number four?"

She helped herself to another roll and dipped part of it in the oil. She didn't want any more, but she was feeling so jittery..."That's even worse.

Are you sure you want to hear the rest?" she said with a laugh, glancing toward the kitchen again. Please, bring the damn food. She was about to say she needed to use the ladies' room so she could escape for a few minutes, but he said he could handle anything, which left her in the middle of their conversation.

With a shrug, she ate the bread. "I guess we've got time. They're really slow in the kitchen tonight, don't you think?"

He acted surprised. "Not really. We just ordered ten minutes ago."

Somehow it seemed longer. "Oh. Well, after wife number three, my father got involved with a former female student. Or maybe he was having an affair with her before the split. With his track record, who knows?"

"How long did that one last?"

"He's stil with her. It's been five years."

"Any more children?"

"No. Fortunately, somewhere in between wife three and wife four, he got himself fixed." Or she could've had a whole horde of half siblings. One who wouldn't speak to her was bad enough.

"Probably a good thing," he said.

"Absolutely a good thing." Although, the last she'd heard, her father's latest wife was coaxing him to have his vasectomy reversed....

Luke shifted in his seat. "How much longer do you give it?"

"Give what?" The shape of the dog tags that hung beneath his Tshirt, between his pectoral muscles, had distracted her.

"This latest marriage."

She dragged her eyes away from the appealing contours of his chest.

"Hard to say. I know he's not cheating this time, so that should help."

Long, tapered fingers with wide, blunt-cut nails cradled his wineglass.

"How do you know he's finally broken the pattern?"

"Because he doesn't have any choice. Carly--that's her name--

watches him like a hawk. And he's too afraid of losing her to try anything.

He won't even see me because it upsets her to have to share him."

Why she'd added that, Ava didn't know. She hadn't meant to get so personal. Maybe it was the wine, or the way she was scraping for conversation....

Fortunately, Luke didn't pounce on it, and for that she was grateful.

"How old is she?"

"Twenty-six."

He blinked several times. "Did you say forty-six?"

Ava frowned. "No."

"That's two years younger than me!" he said with obvious distaste.

And Luke was three years younger than her. "They look ridiculous together," she admitted. "Especially now that Carly's having him dye his hair blond and is making him go to the tanning salon."

"You must hate watching your father turn into a caricature."

"I do. No one wants to see her father lose his dignity, but...I'm not sure mine ever really had any."

"It can't be easy to keep the attention of a twenty-six-year-old when you're...what? Fiftysomething?"

That was a practical consideration she figured a woman would be more prone to recognize than a man. "Fifty-nine. He's on the desperate side, and it's beginning to show."

Luke gave a low whistle. "He must've been something in his prime."

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