Mr. Imperfect

chapter 4



The only time Mike could count on Luke to be on time—ever—was if a third party stepped in and forced him to be. In this case, it was Delta Airlines that delivered Luke to his gate ten minutes ahead of schedule. Still, Mike settled himself in for a decent wait.

Something would distract Luke in between his gate and the luggage claim—a hot girl he wanted to impress, a scent in a restaurant Luke just had to taste, a conversation that started somewhere over Kansas that he just had to finish. Whatever it was, somehow Luke would be late enough to tempt Mike into making him take a cab.

It happened every time. And yet every time Luke needed a ride, Mike always showed up on time, just like his mom trained him, even though he knew Luke would be an hour late.

Whatever. That’s what smart phones had been invented for.

Leaning against the wall, Mike opened the email he’d saved for the occasion and got to work, glancing up on occasion to see if Luke had magically appeared. Within a few minutes Luke’s flight number popped up on a baggage carousel to his left. Mike drifted over to the carousel and continued catching up on his emails until a casual glance up into the crowd had him doing a double take.

Some women were pretty. Others were beautiful, classy , voluptuous, trashy, or sleek. This woman transcended adjectives in Mike’s book. She was like a goddess trying to blend in with the mundane. For the first time in Mike’s life, the floor seemed to fall out from under him. He felt as if he were falling, even though he knew his feet were firmly set on cold tile of the airport lobby.

So out of my league, he thought, even as his eyes locked on to the amused pucker of her lips and imagined the feel of them against his own. Where he was light, she was dark—dark hair, dark eyes, and her skin a shade that might be a tan or might be natural coloring.

Mike’s falling sensation stopped as abruptly as it started as he spotted Luke next to the woman, talking enthusiastically while she smiled patiently. The two of them had probably sat next to each other on the flight, and since Luke was Luke, he’d probably talked her ear off the entire time.

Well, Luke may have seen this woman first, but Mike wasn’t leaving the airport until he had her number, or she had his. Dating moratorium be damned, some women were worth breaking oaths for.

Navigating his way through the crowd to join his friend, Mike kept his eyes on the woman. At the moment he could only see part of her profile and her hair. It would be pretty hard to miss that hair. Long, full, and rebelliously curly. Both styled and haphazard, it gave the impression that her personality might be along the same lines, structured with a wild streak.

Mike felt his heart pick up its rhythm in his chest and sent himself a mental cautionary note not to get too excited just yet. He didn’t know this girl—all he knew was that he wanted to know what it felt like to bury his fingers in her hair. But good hair did not equal good personality. She might be boring. Maybe she was a snob. She could be a lot of things that weren’t worth getting worked up over.

Still, his heart pounded and he wiped his hands on his jeans before making the last few steps to the couple and punching Luke in the shoulder.

“What’s up, man?” he asked, purposefully addressing Luke first. He had to play it cool.

Luke turned from searching the baggage carousel and a smile cracked his face. “Hey, good to see you!”

True to Luke’s nature, he threw his arms around Mike in a hug, giving Mike a chance to take his first close-up look at the mystery girl as she eyed their man hug with a hint of amusement.

Stunning. There was no other word for her. Beautiful was off the mark because in Mike’s mind it drew visions of beauty mixed with vulnerability, like a flower. This girl had a sharpness behind her eyes that hinted that she was nobody’s fool. Her features were strong and looked Mediterranean or maybe Spanish. Definitely regal. She was a woman who was comfortable in her own skin. And speaking of her skin, it was perfect. Smooth and sun kissed with no make-up.

Mike looked at her eyes last. He knew wouldn’t earn him any points with her, but what was done was done. She was looking at him funny now, indicating that Mike had surpassed the unspoken time limit for either checking her out or engaging in a man hug. Maybe both. For a moment, though, he couldn’t care. Her single cocked eyebrow had Mike studying her eyes, which he was quite sure were the darkest shade of hazel he had ever seen. He’d have to get closer to know for sure, but they looked like a emerald green shining through a tawny filter.

“Whoa,” Luke said, pushing him away and chuckling. “It’s good to see you too, man, but save the PDA and grab that bag will you?”

Tearing his eyes away from the perfect lips Mike promised himself he would kiss sooner rather than later, he turned to the carousel, searching out Luke’s luggage and not seeing it anywhere.

“Which one?” he asked.

“The orange one with the stickers on it,” Luke said, pointing out some luggage that looked like it had been imported from the 1950s. When Mike sent Luke a confused look, he added, “It’s Rori’s, not mine.”

It’s Rori’s, not mine? Luke knew this woman well enough to recognize her luggage? To grab it from the carousel without consulting her?

Mike must have hesitated too long, because his dream woman stepped forward. “Don’t worry,” she said in a smooth, accented voice that left him blinking. “I’ve got it.”

“No, no,” Mike said quickly, bumping into her as they both reached at the same time. He wasn’t sure if it was hair product or perfume, but she smelled amazing. Like cinnamon, vanilla, and citrus. “Glad to help. I’ve got it.”

She pulled back from their impact, studying him as she silently agreed to let him pull the bag. Mike felt her eyes on him and wanted to look back to try to see what she might be thinking. Instead, he played it cool and just grabbed her suitcase. It was lighter than he imagined. Definitely lighter than any bag his sister or mom had packed in their lives.

“Rori, this is my best friend, Mike,” Luke said from behind them. “As friends come, there’s none better.”

Reminding himself to keep things casual, Mike turned and stuck out his hand. “Good to meet you, Rori.”

Her eyes dipped to her suitcase in his hand and a curious expression crossed her face before she reached out and gripped his hand. Firmly. “You, too. Luke’s told me a lot about you.”

Man, that voice. It was like a drug designed to lower all defensive mechanisms. But even the siren sound of it couldn’t fully distract Mike from what she’d said. She’d heard a lot about him? When? On the flight? And if it was just on the flight, why were she and Luke smiling like they had a secret?

Again, Mike felt a kick of panic as he found his voice. “Really? I have yet to hear about you.”

“Oh, that will change,” Luke said. Then Mike watched, in seeming slow motion, as Luke’s arm snaked around Rori’s waist. Intimately, in a way that said that it had been there before. As a wild, irrational wave of anger made a quick trip through his body, Mike watched Luke look down at Rori with an expression of complete adoration, as Rori tilted her head up to Luke.

There was only one reason a woman tilted her head like that. It was the universal invitation of a woman for a guy to lay one on her.

In that moment of realization, Mike went from angry to ill.

These two knew each other. Well. They’d kissed before. And Mike knew Luke well enough to know that his friend had never looked at anyone the way he’d just gazed at Rori.

New feelings filled Mike’s chest. Feelings he didn’t have words for as he forced himself to smile and say, “I look forward to it,” as his friend’s smiling, slightly chapped lips connected with Rori’s.

When Luke pulled away and beamed at him, Mike had to look away before he punched the smug look off his friend’s face. He had no right to punch Luke and he certainly didn’t know Rori well enough to know if she was worth fighting over.

At least that’s what his mind said, even as a primal part of him roared something completely different.

Mike had no choice. He had to look away.

“Any more bags?” he asked, trying to distract himself.

“That’s it for Rori,” Luke said. “I’ve got two more.”

Mike nodded, knowing exactly what they’d look like from his many trips with Luke. And while he stood looking, Rori stepped forward and reached for her bag.

“I can take that,” she offered again. Her eyes were unreadable, as if she were feeling him out in some way he couldn’t comprehend. If Kris had been there she would have understand the look and explained it to him.

“Nah, I got it,” Mike said with a shrug. “Might as well be useful.”

“Let him take it,” Luke said to her. “Mike’s mom trained him to be helpful. Well, more like brainwashed, actually. He can’t be stopped, so don’t try.”

Mike grunted in acknowledgment, even though neither of his companions probably heard it. True, Luke should be showing his manliness by taking the bags himself, but Mike could follow his friend’s logic on this one. Why shouldn’t Mike take care of the luggage so Luke and the girl of his dreams could have their hands free to roam on each other?

That’s exactly what Luke was thinking.

Stone faced, Mike reached out and yanked one of Luke’s bags from the carousel. It was either that or punch his friend for meeting Rori first.