relieved her of the knife. “Not a thing. You’re my guest.”
A zing of attraction zipped through her at the feel of his hand on hers. “That doesn’t mean I can’t help.”
He gestured to the stools at the counter. “That’s exactly what it means.”
“All right,” Syd said as she settled on one of the stools. “If you insist.”
“I insist. So how was your day?”
She couldn’t exactly admit she’d spent most of it trying to decide whether or not to come for dinner. “Housework,” she said. “Nothing exciting. How was yours?”
“Busy. Typical summer day at McCarthy’s. Boats coming and going. Big Mac playing Wiffle ball with the kids on the dock.” As he spoke, he chopped potatoes and peppers. “Dogs, families, bikes, grills, the usual chaos.”
Sydney smiled at the picture he painted. “Is Mr. McCarthy still working?”
“Every day, even though he hardly needs to with me and Mac running the place.”
“It’s working out well? With Mac?”
Luke shrugged. “He’s great. Just like his dad. Nothing really changed.” He opened the antiquated fridge and withdrew a plastic container. “What’s your pleasure? Chicken or steak? Teriyaki or barbeque?”
Sydney contemplated the choices. “I’ll go with chicken and barbeque.”
“Then I’ll do steak and teriyaki. We can share if you want.”
“Perfect.” Despite the attraction that complicated everything about this evening, Sydney realized she was more relaxed than she’d been in months.
“Come on out with me while I grill.” He stepped around the counter and led the way through the dining room to the deck.
Sydney followed with Buddy trailing just behind her.
“I was hoping we could eat out here if the fog held off,” he said.
The evening remained clear and warm, ideal for alfresco dining. “Such an incredible view,” she said as she lowered herself onto one of the comfortable lounge chairs. Whereas her parents’ house overlooked the pond, Luke’s place faced the ocean with the pond just across the way.
“I like it.”
The statement was so typically Luke, to reduce a million-dollar view to three small words, that it drew a smile from her.
He put the foil pouches on a sleek stainless-steel grill and closed the lid. “Stay put for a sec.” Carrying the platter inside, he returned a minute later with a bottle of beer and settled on the lounge next to hers.
Deciding there was no chance of scraps for the moment, Buddy plopped down on the deck.
Sydney curled her legs under her and turned so she could see Luke. His dark hair was as silky as she remembered, his skin brown from the sun, his hands strong and efficient. As she studied him, Sydney felt a subtle change taking place within her, a reawakening of sorts. She was suddenly more aware of the sizzle of food cooking on the grill, the scent of the sea and fresh-cut grass, the slight dampness in the warm air, the chill of the glass in her hand and the sharp sting of desire.
“What’re you thinking?” he asked.
“That this is nice, being here with you again.”
He reached across the gap between their chairs and took her hand. “It’s great to have you here.”
Once again, his touch set off a tingling reaction that had her full attention. “Are you happy with your life, Luke?” She wasn’t sure where the question came from, but she really wanted to know.
“I’m content.”
“Is that the same thing?”
Pondering his beer bottle, he shrugged. “I’m not un happy.”
“Do you ever think about doing something else?”
“Not so much anymore.”
“You had so many things you wanted to do.”
“Life happens.”
Sydney knew his ailing mother had kept him on the island when he should’ve been leaving for college. “Are you ever bored?”
He released a short laugh. “Nope. There’s always something to do. We’re straight out at the marina in the summer. Last winter, Mac and I renovated a couple of kitchens and a