Luke drove home with tired eyes but a relieved conscience. Lexy had read the situation exactly right. As much as he appreciated her as a friend, he could no more fall in love with her than he could Betty, the elderly baker at The Flour Pot. He valued both women, but he didn't see a romantic future with either of them.
Now, he could focus on Tate. Tate with that infectious grin who spoke like he was paid by the word. Tate who had kissed him. To be honest, he still didn't know what he thought about that kiss beyond the physical reaction it elicited.
