Remember by Karen Kingsbury Page B

pretty shocked when they come up for the first time.”
    “I know I was.” Reagan looped her arm through her father’s. “The elevator ride alone is enough to make me queasy.”
    The phone on Mr. Decker’s desk rang, and for a moment he was caught in a conversation. Luke glanced at Reagan and raised his eyebrows. “Nice.” He mouthed the word, and she released her father’s arm and joined Luke near the window.
    She stared down, her forehead against the glass. “Looks like a postcard.”
    “I always thought I’d stay in Indiana.” He slid his hand a few inches down the windowsill so it was against hers. “But being here in New York—I don’t know. There’s something addicting about it. An excitement, an energy.” He caught her eye. “Like I won’t really have conquered the business world until I conquer it here.”
    Reagan grinned. “You’re kinda young to be conquering anything yet.”
    “Hey.” Luke nudged her with his elbow. “Give a guy a chance.”
    Behind them, Mr. Decker hung up the phone. “They need me down the hall for a quick meeting. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes if you can wait.” He tapped his watch. “I’d like to take you to the top for lunch if you have time.”
    “Sure.” Reagan lifted one shoulder. “We have all day, right?” She looked at Luke.
    “Right.”
    “And we’re seeing Riverdance tonight—is that what’s on the schedule?”
    “It is.” Reagan lowered her chin and gave Luke a warning look. “And no complaints from you guys, okay?”
    Luke stifled a grin and held his hands up. “Not me.”
    “Luke likes men in tights.” Mr. Decker gave him a light punch in the arm as he rounded his desk.
    “Especially Irish tights.”
    They could still hear Reagan’s father laughing as he closed his office door and headed down the hallway.
    Luke stared at Reagan. “Can you see it?”
    “What?” Her eyes danced. She leaned against the window, facing him.
    “Me. In an office like this.” He gestured to the oversized leather chair behind the desk. “Working right next to your dad.”
    “I guess.” A quiet ripple of laughter sounded on her lips. Luke closed the gap between them. She was so beautiful, and she seemed so happy spending this past week with her parents. In fact, these last few days with Reagan and her family had been enough to convince him.
    One day—maybe one day soon—he would ask Reagan to marry him. They could have such a wonderful life together, maybe right here in New York. And no matter what hard times might come, the life of faith they would share together would feel like nothing but blue skies and sunsets. Day after day, year after year.
    He wanted to kiss her, to take her in his arms and pull her close the way he’d longed to since they’d left Bloomington together. But her constant nearness was getting to him. If he wanted to keep his thoughts pure, they needed space between them—as often as possible, anyway. He backed up a few steps and fell into her father’s chair. Kicking his heels up on the corner of the desk, he linked his fingers behind his head and grinned at her. “Know what I want?”
    She rested her back against the window and angled her head. “A pair of Irish tights?”
    “After that.”
    This time she let her head fall back, gentle laughter spilling from her like a song. “Okay.” She caught her breath. “Tell me what.”
    “I want a position at the firm here . . . and an office down the hall from your father. That way”—he gave his voice a haughty sound—“I can support his daughter in the manner to which she has become accustomed.”
    Reagan batted her eyes. “Oh, yeah?”
    “It’s that or the glass slipper.” Luke grinned at her. They’d been dating for less than a year, and their discussions about forever were never very serious. But he was close to crossing the line here. “You know the score, Reagan. One way or another, I want you in my life.”
    “Really?” She was teasing him, feeling him