Free The Violet Hour (The Violet Hour Series) by Andrea L Wells Page B

8
    As Luke got out of the car to open my door, I was surprised to realize two things.  One, I was happy.  Really, sincerely happy.  Two, I was nervous.  Jittery, butterflies-in-the-stomach nervous. 
    Outside the car, Luke pulled on his jacket and reached for my door. 
    I was truly happy for the first time since my mom had passed.  I’d had brief moments of hope, but this was pure serenity.  Looking at Luke standing outside my door about to open it for me simplified things.  Before him, a gesture like that was an expectation.  Now, I was flattered by the act.  Flattered because it was him. 
    Luke opened the door and offered his hand to guide me out.  As we walked down the sidewalk, I noticed people staring.  Even though I had spent the past ten years of my life in the public eye, this was different and I felt nervous.  From the moment we arrived in California, my mom was the star of every room she walked into and Richard had showered us with money.  Growing up in the spotlight made it easier to be in the spotlight, but this was the first time I’d stepped into public again since her death.  I felt out of my element.
    With perfect timing, Luke squeezed my hand and reminded me I wasn’t alone.
    He led me down the sidewalk toward Main Street.  The road was lined with lawn chairs and children racing around with plastic grocery bags to collect candy.  Luke let go of my hand when we stopped in front of Jackie’s Boutique .  Jackie smiled from the window and waved at me as Luke brought out two chairs.
    When we finally sat down, I grabbed my phone from my clutch to check the time.  Six new missed calls from Brody since the last time I checked, which was right before we left the house.  I deleted his name and voicemails without another thought.  After I tossed the phone back into my purse, I looked up to see a younger teenage girl impatiently waiting in front of me. 
    “You’re Logan Keller, aren’t you?” she squealed, turning other heads to stare at us.
    “I am,” I replied, reaching for the pen she held, “What’s your name?”
    “Shelly,” she said as she handed me a glossy tabloid magazine.  It was already opened to a photo of my mother and me shopping in L.A.  I couldn’t catch a break.  Luke put his hand on my back as if he knew exactly what I was feeling.  The day the photo was taken, my mom had bought a new outfit for me.  As I signed my name over the photo, I decided it would be the outfit I’d wear to school my first day.  
    Not wanting to draw further attention, I quickly handed the magazine back with a smile.  She took off across the street as I scanned to make sure no one else was coming.  I relaxed back into my chair, but when I looked at Luke, his expression was questioning.
    “I’m fine, Luke, really.  I just didn’t expect that in Sheridan, Wyoming,” I shrugged with slight irritation.  I was used to it anywhere else, but reality had slapped me in the face, reminding me that this was anywhere else.
    “I just want to make sure you’re okay.  I promised your dad.”
    “You promised my dad?” I questioned.
    “I promised him you’d be okay.”
    I frowned weighing his words.  Sharing my feelings with Luke was one thing.  Sharing my feelings with Luke who was sharing with my over-protective father was another.
    Before I could protest, he added, “Plus, I care about you.”
    Butterflies filled my insides as breath escaped my lungs.  I wasn’t sure what reasons he had to be so sweet, but I felt desperate to find out.  
    The marching band started, signaling the parade had officially begun.  I looked at Luke’s arm draped around my shoulders.  I had always felt like a guy’s arm around me in public was an unflattering show of ownership rather than a mutual companionship between two people.  Luke stiffened when I pulled his arm off but relaxed after I laced my fingers in-between his.  Luke and I were different – I didn’t know what we were, but we were