Euphoria Lane Read Free

a drug-dealing prostitute and you shrug it off? Jessie is your daughter, too. Why isn’t she receiving the overprotective-father routine?”
    “Your sister is a police officer. She can take care of herself.” He looked her straight in the eye—his way of making sure she paid attention. “When Jessie draws it’s with an automatic, not a red grading pen.”
    Andi knew there was no point in arguing. First, he was right. Jessie was better equipped to take care of herself. Second, Andi would always be considered the baby of the family. She was lucky he still didn’t remind her to look both ways before crossing the street.
    He set down his mug, snatched the newspaper from the table, and headed down the hall.
    “Life’s not fair. Get used to it,” Jessie teased while returning to the dining room table with a mug of coffee. The doorbell interrupted their conversation. “I’ll get it. You never know when an armed kindergartener might follow you home to raid the place.”
    “Very funny,” Andi answered. “If that’s the mailman at the door, don’t shoot first and ask questions later, Dirty Harriet.”
    Andi noticed her red pen at the end of the dining room table, next to her grade book. Looking at it reminded her that everyone in her family thought she couldn’t defend herself because she was only a teacher. She snatched it up with one quick move and shoved it into the pocket of her gray shorts.
    A broken fan’s loud, obnoxious whine told her their father had found the bathroom.
    Hoping the fan would prove to be a small fix, Andi sipped her coffee. A gruff male voice at the door caught her by surprise. Turning in her chair, she watched Jessie step aside to allow their visitor inside.
    The man looked a lot like Andi’s school principal—a balding, short, older gentleman. His chestnut toupee sat askew on top of his natural gray hair. He also had the same tight, pinched expression her father wore whenever his hemorrhoids flared up.
    A younger, taller man entered the foyer behind the older one. Recognition sparked deep within her. With his sandy-brown hair and welcoming smile, he resembled . . . Andi’s heart stopped. No. It couldn’t be. Yet she knew it was Luke Ryder. Her mind swirled in a dozen different directions.
    Why is he here, in my home, after all these years? I haven’t seen him since my freshman year of college.
    Their eyes met. His smile faded and his strong jaw tightened. “Andi . . .” Her name hung in the air like a mistake no one wanted to acknowledge. “It’s been a long time.”
    “Luke . . .”
    How long had it been since that night? Eight years? No. Nine.
    Nine years since he said he couldn’t marry her and marched out of her dorm room.
    Jessie’s gaze traveled between the two of them. “You know each other?”
    Long work hours back then had kept Jessie from meeting Luke the half a dozen times he’d been at their family home for Sunday dinner. Since he had never officially proposed, the family knew only that Andi had once been serious about him. They had no clue how serious. She had been afraid that telling everyone about their plans before he proposed would bring bad luck. Looking back on things, she realized she might have had better luck carrying a black cat, stepping on cracks, and throwing mirrors while walking under a ladder.
    She managed to pull her gaze away from his dark-brown eyes. “We knew each other in college. Luke, this is my sister, Jessie. She lives with me.”
    A hesitant smile tugged at his lips before he shook Jessie’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m the property manager for Euphoria Lane Condominiums.” He turned to the older man. “This is Harry Fletcher, the HOA vice president.”
    “President,” Harry interjected in a coarse, nasal tone. “I am now president of the homeowners’ association.” He acted as if he were the king of a rich, oil-producing country instead of a gated community made up of two hundred condominiums.
    Luke studied an