The Collector by Nora Roberts Page B

finger on his own heart. “Julie Bryant. Son of a bitch. Now
this
is awkward, and I need another beer.”
    â€œLater. I need to talk to Lila, get more details on this break-in. I wasn’t paying attention before. You should come with me.”
    â€œI should?”
    â€œA murderer might be wearing your ex-wife’s shoes.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous, and it was a dozen years ago.”
    â€œYou know you want to check it out.” Ash tossed some bills on the two-top, then shoved the napkin toward Luke. “Beer and pencil portrait on me. Let’s go.”

    L ila considered grabbing a shower. Since she’d dived straight into the book that morning, and had broken to entertain Thomas by trying out one of the amazing Macey’s many workout DVDs, she probably needed one.
    Plus, she and Julie hadn’t decided if they’d stay in and order in, or go out. Either way, since it was nearly six-thirty and Julie would be here before much longer, she really ought to clean up.
    â€œI have book brain,” she told Thomas. “And the perky blonde on the DVD was a sadist.”
    Maybe she had time for a hot—but reasonably quick—soak in the wonder tub. If she—
    â€œOkay, no tub,” she muttered when she heard the bell. “She’ll just have to hang out while I grab that shower.”
    She went to the door, pulled it open without thinking to check. “You’re early. I haven’t— Oh.”
    She looked into Ash’s eyes, and her thoughts went into a chaotic avalanche. She hadn’t washed her hair in three days, she wore no makeup, and the yoga pants and sports top—both sweaty—she’d been meaning to replace for months.
    She smelled like Pilates and the handful of Doritos she’d shoved in her mouth as a reward for the Pilates.
    She managed another, “Oh,” when he smiled at her.
    â€œI should’ve called. We were just a couple of blocks away, and I wanted to talk to you about something. This is Luke.”
    Someone was with him. Of course someone was with him, she could see that perfectly well. She just hadn’t really registered the cute guy with the killer shoulders.
    â€œOh,” she said yet again. “I was working, then I decided to try this exercise DVD designed to make you cry like a baby, so I’m . . . Oh well,” she said as she stepped back to let them in.
    It didn’t matter what she looked like, she told herself. It wasn’t as if they were dating. More important, he looked less strained than he had the last time she’d seen him.
    â€œIt’s nice to meet you. And you, too.” Luke bent down to scratch Thomas, who sniffed busily at his pant legs.
    â€œAre you with the police?”
    â€œNo, not a cop. I’m a baker.”
    â€œA professional baker?”
    â€œYeah. I’ve got a place a few blocks from here. Baker’s Dozen.”
    â€œMini cupcakes!”
    Amused by the outburst, Luke straightened. “We’ve got them.”
    â€œNo, I mean, I’ve had them. The red velvet brought tears to my eyes. I went back for more just the other day, and the sourdough bread. And a caramel latte. It’s such a happy place. How long have you been there?”
    â€œAbout three years now.”
    â€œI always wondered what it was like to work in a bakery. Do you ever stop noticing how wonderful it smells or how pretty all the tarts look, that kind of thing? Did you always want to be a baker? And I’m sorry.”
    She shoved at her hair. “I ask too many questions, and I haven’t even asked you to sit down. Do you want a drink? I have wine, or the sun tea I finally got around to making,” she added with a quick smile for Ash.
    â€œWe’re fine. We just had a beer, and something occurred to me.”
    Luke leaned over again to pet the delighted cat, and his sunglasses fell to the floor. “That damn screw,” he said as he