Free Key to Love by Judy Ann Davis

Chinese, brother, and you’re on!”
    Lucas watched them. He had never known what it was like to have a relationship with a sibling, a bonding of blood and family love so strong one family member would kill to defend and protect the other. In addition, he had no doubts Fritz Springer would annihilate anyone who tried to harm his sister. He felt her eyes on him.
    “Is Chinese okay with you?” she asked.
    “It’s fine with me. Anything but pizza.” He nodded and offered Elise his Coke. She took a quick sip, not in the least concerned he had already downed half the can. She was the most uninhibited person he knew. Monique would have never touched her lips to the rim of a can, and never, even in dire thirst, if someone had taken the first drink from it.
    When Fritz disappeared, she stood and slipped her feet into her shoes. Catching Lucas off guard again, she asked, “Do I get a guided tour of this place, or do I snoop around by myself?” Her eyes were curious, and her smile so infectious it astounded him. He never expected she’d have any interest in a greasy old garage, long abandoned and crumbling under the weight of years gone by.
    “You really want to see this graveyard of steel and old blocks?”
    “Sure, I’m into anything made of concrete, steel, wood or mortar.”
    “What about men?” he asked casually as he led her outside toward the two, steel storage buildings out back.
    “They just don’t seem to fit into my blueprints at the moment,” she said.
    They doubled back through the two-bay garage into the showroom he planned to enlarge and remodel. He found himself stopping to explain his many ideas while she listened attentively. Her eyes seemed to drink in the structure, as if she was analyzing every stud, rafter, even the blocks in the walls. When they reached the office again, he gave her a baffled look.
    “You really dig this stuff, don’t you?”
    She looked at him and smiled. “Lucas, I’m an architect. This is what I do. We create, we build, we remodel.” Her hands flew out in animation as she spoke. “I look at a structure like this and try to envision what it was like when it was new and ponder what drove the mind of the person who created it. Why did the builder choose certain materials and not others? How did he utilize space? Why did he choose certain lighting or colors?”
    “You are a just a tad demented, you know?”
    She only laughed, the sound lilting and melodic.
    “Well, if you come up with any grand ideas for remodeling, I’d appreciate them,” he admitted. He knew the showroom was much too small and he needed something larger which would adequately display older restored vehicles along with newer models.
    “Are you serious?” The look on her face matched that of a kid just handed a fistful of candy. “You’d actually consider any ideas I have?”
    “Why not? Hell, you’re the architect, Lizzie.”
    Her eyes circled the office. “Yeah, this needs work, too,” he admitted, following her gaze. “I have a rough floor plan with dimensions at the farm. I’ll dig them out and make copies for you.”
    She walked to the back of the office where a door led to the parts and storage room. Her hand reached for the knob. “No,” he said sharply, “you don’t have to worry about this room. Don’t go in there; it’s filthy and stacked full of junk.”
    However, it was too late, she was already pushing the door open.
    He groaned.
    She peered in and then stepped inside. On a long service counter, six huge unopened boxes sat side by side.
    “Lucas Fisher, you devil,” she whispered in awe as soon as she recognized their contents. “You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?”

Chapter Seven
    “Computers.”
    The word rolled off her lips in what sounded like reverence, wonder, and delight.
    “Six, to be exact.” Lucas slouched against the doorjamb. “Another is on its way.”
    She stepped farther inside and glided her hands over the first two boxes. Her eyes lit up