Free Real Men Don't Quit by Coleen Kwan

lot sooner. With the success of his Kingsley Jeffers book, he’d planned to buy her a spacious new house, but the only property she wanted to own was the one she’d rented all those years, the humble home in which she’d raised her children. He’d bought her the house, but Fate, as if to mock his efforts, had snuffed out her life sooner after.
    “She was in awe of your talent.” Helen squeezed his arm softly. “I’ll tell you something—she confessed to me that often she didn’t understand your writing. She could read the words, but she couldn’t make any sense of their meaning.”
    Luke swallowed. He’d long suspected his mother’s bafflement at his writing, but to have Helen confirm it…
    Helen continued, “I think she felt a bit, you know, intimidated.”
    “But they’re just words. Why would she be intimidated by mere words?”
    His sister shrugged and moved over to the sink to fill a glass with water. “Can’t you guess? It’s because Dad always made her feel inferior.”
    He frowned. “I don’t recall anything like that.”
    Helen drank her water slowly. “You were so young when he left. Of course you don’t remember much.”
    “Some things I’ve never forgotten.” Like his father’s voice, mellifluous and lilting, as he read to Luke. The poems had made little sense to him, but in the cadence of his father’s voice he’d heard beauty and dreams and longing. In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure-dome decree … “He used to read poetry to me.”
    “Typical.” Rolling her eyes, Helen set her glass down. “He was a fine one for reading books and drinking whiskey. Not so fine providing for his family or staying faithful to his wife.”
    “What?”
    “Oh, don’t look so shocked. He had numerous affairs while he was with Mum. Several times he went off with his floozies, only to come back when he’d tired of them, or more likely when they’d tired of him. And Mum—heaven knows why—always took him back.”
    He shouldn’t have been so flabbergasted by Helen’s revelations, but he was. He felt as though a sledgehammer had punched into his stomach. “I never heard Mum say a single bad word against him.”
    “Me neither.” The corners of Helen’s mouth pulled down. “He was a lazy, unfaithful liar, but he was also charming and handsome, and she found him irresistible. When I tried to rant against him, she would always stop me. ‘It’s just how he is,’ she’d say, as if that excused everything.”
    Luke shook his head at his mother’s folly. She’d been in love with Patrick Maguire, and love made you do strange things, made you sacrifice your future, your dignity, even your children’s respect. And all for a man who wasn’t worth it. The older Luke got, the more he realized a fundamental truth—love was a crapshoot best avoided.
    …
    Tyler waved good-bye to Ally and left Java & Joolz with Chloe in tow. Saturday mornings at the store were always busy, and Chloe had made things difficult, but Tyler had kept her patience. She’d investigated a few child-minding possibilities but none had satisfied her, so for the time being she had to take Chloe to work with her.
    As she crossed the street toward the bus stop, Chloe piped up, “Mumma, look, it’s Mr. Luke.”
    Instantly her heart leaped as she glanced around. “Where?”
    “There.”
    “Oh.” She realized Chloe was pointing at Fiona’s bookstore, where a large poster in the window advertised the upcoming reading and book signing by “internationally renowned Australian author Luke Maguire.” The professional photograph of Luke was impressive, but not representative of the man she knew, Tyler decided. In the picture, he was groomed and manscaped, his hair artfully messed, his stubble carefully trimmed. He looked totally foreign, especially in the black polo-neck sweater he wore.
    Still, he was a fine-looking specimen, and the sensuous curl to his mouth brought the memories thundering back. Just a few nights ago,