Steal My Breath (Elixir 1)

I smack his chest lightly. “Pfft, we both know I’m not. You should take that into consideration every now and then.”

He chuckles. “I will, but not today. Today is all about me. And what I really want is to get to know you better.” He smacks my butt. “We need to get going.”

“Okay, just let me grab my bag.”

Five minutes later, we’re in his BMW heading to a destination unknown to me. When I asked him, he refused to tell me.

As he pulls the car out of his street, he says, “How did you go with that sugar tax article you were writing?”

I settle back in my seat, loving the view of him driving. Those strong arms of his, and his masculine hands all over the steering wheel. Call me strange, but there’s just something about being driven around by a man. “I decided I am definitely for a sugar tax, so long as the money goes toward educating the public more about the dangers of sugar. I also decided you are right that there’s a deeper wound in society that needs more attention and why not impose a tax to try to help fund that initiative. I don’t believe a tax would necessarily fix the problem, but it could be a weapon in the battle.”

He glances at me. “It sounds like a well-thought out article. When will it be published?”

I grin. “It’s in today’s newspaper.”

“Did you get a copy already?”

“Yeah, I have it delivered to my home now.”

“Remind me to stop and buy one today.”

“You can just read my copy, Luke.”

“No, I want a copy to keep.”

My breathing slows. He can’t possibly know what this means to me, and yet he’s managed to say the one thing that absolutely means the most to me today.

When I don’t say anything further, he places his hand on my leg. “Are you good?”

I swallow back my tears. “Yes,” I say. It comes out all squeaky, and he takes his eyes off the road for a moment to look at me.

“No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

I can’t hold them back any longer. My tears flow down my face as I madly try to pull myself together. I can’t speak, though. Not through the tears and emotions choking me.

Luke doesn’t say anything. He gives me space to compose myself. But he keeps his hand firmly on my leg.

Finally, I sort myself out. “Do you know what my mother said when I told her I landed a job at the newspaper?”

Hand still on my leg. “I imagine she would have said how happy she was for you. Or maybe that she was proud her daughter was following in her footsteps.”

I shake my head. “No. When I told her that I got the job and that my goal was to move up into a journalist position, she told me she doubted I would make it because I had never taken the time to study writing. She said it took a certain type of person to handle the pressure of writing for a city paper and that she didn’t think I had what it took.”

His hand grips me harder, but he doesn’t say a word.

“My parents never kept any of my school work, never oohed and aahed over my results the same way they did over my sister’s. They didn’t ask me how my first day at the job went and they sure as hell won’t be keeping a copy of today’s newspaper to remember my first published article. The fact you want to buy a copy to keep means more to me than you will ever understand, Luke.”

His hand remains on my leg.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment. When he does, his voice is steady, but I can hear the emotion in it. “For all my mother’s faults, she gave me all of that. She might not have been home most nights, might not have taught me to read or write, might not have toilet-trained me or done anything most parents do, but she was always interested in my schooling, my jobs, and my general wellbeing. She has a framed copy of the house plan for the first house I ever worked on. She planned a party at Elixir for the first night I took over its running.” He pauses for a beat. “I’m sorry your parents have no clue what parenting is actually about, Callie.”

I place my hand over his on my leg. “You give me hope that I won’t turn out to be my parents.”

“We don’t have to be,” he says with such strong belief it almost convinces me, but I watched my mother emulate her mother, so a tiny piece of doubt still lives in me.

We drive in silence after that. From what I can work out, Luke is heading towards the Sunshine Coast. I love the beach, even in winter, so I hope that’s where we’re going.

“Tell me about Glenda,” I say after a while.