Luka got out of the car. "Would you like... drink?" Luka asked.

Peter turned off the engine and opened his door. The night was filled with chirps and calls of the small insects that swirled up around the streetlight that cast shadows over the lawn and walkway toward the main house. "I have to be at work early in the morning," Peter told him.

"Okay," Luka said. "Thank you for ride." He turned around and saw Peter standing still, watching him.

"You're welcome. Oh, before I forget," he said and then went back to the car. He pulled open the rear door and brought out a stack of books and other things. He closed the door, hurried over to where Luka waited, and handed them to him. "These are some videos, and books to go with them. They help with speech and reading."

Luka took them and thanked Peter.

Neither of them moved for a long while. Luka stared at Peter, and Peter looked back at him. He wasn't sure what to do and blinked a few times. He wondered what Peter wanted, but didn't have to words to ask him. He opened his mouth more than once, but the words didn't come, in either language. A car went down the alley, shining its headlights on both of them, and that was when Luka saw them: tears, filling Peter's eyes.

In that moment, Peter looked so much like his Misha that Luka could hardly believe it. The warm glow in the pa.s.sing light, the soft eyes, the sweet way his lips curled just so, even the mussed hair. Misha's hair had always been untamable, no matter what he did with it, and Peter's looked exactly the same. Luka set the books on the stoop and slowly stepped forward as if pulled by an invisible force. He watched Peter and waited for him to pull away, but he didn't move. Luka moved still closer as darkness enshrouded them once again. "Thank you for dinner," he said haltingly.

"You're welcome," Peter said.

By this time, Luka was so close he could smell Peter's rich scent. Luka closed his eyes and could almost imagine he was here with Misha, but he wasn't, and that wasn't fair to Peter. Luka opened his eyes again, clearly seeing the moisture pooled in the corners of Peter's eyes.

Standing on his tiptoes, Luka closed the distance between them and kissed Peter lightly on the lips. He didn't reach out for him to pull him closer, though he wanted to. Peter tasted good, and Luka leaned closer, adding pressure to the kiss before backing away again.

"Um, good night," Peter said softly.

Luka took a step back. "Good night." He stood and waited for Peter to leave, but he didn't move right away. Luka watched Peter eventually turn around and leave the yard. The lights of his car came on and the engine started. Luka waited and watched as the lights dimmed and then swept the yard before disappearing, the sound of the engine softening in the distance.

Luka turned around and unlocked the door to his apartment. He then picked up the books and stepped inside and set them on the kitchen table before turning on a light. Almost instantly he wondered if he'd done the right thing. He mentally kicked himself for kissing Peter. He should have just said good night and gone inside. But no, he'd had to kiss him. Granted, it was a nice kiss and he'd liked it, but Peter had seemed startled. Luka closed the door and locked it, second-guessing his actions the entire time. He placed his leftover dinner in the refrigerator and gathered the books and videos, carried them into the small living room, and placed them on the table. He sincerely hoped he hadn't lost a friend. Luka sat in the chair he liked and pondered what he'd done. He wasn't an impulsive person. He was a scientist-he thought through possibilities and chose the best one. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and thought about calling Peter to apologize, but decided against it.

He came to the conclusion after doing nothing for fifteen minutes that there was nothing he could do. So he got up, turned off the lights, and climbed the stairs to the small bedroom under the pitched roof.

Chapter 3.

PETER THOUGHT THOUGHT for the millionth time about Luka's kiss. For the past two days, it never seemed to be far from his mind. He wondered if he should show up at Luka's as they'd planned, or if he should try to find someone else to help him. It wasn't that the kiss hadn't been nice-it had been really nice. That was the problem. Peter reached for the phone, and it rang before he could pick it up to make his call. for the millionth time about Luka's kiss. For the past two days, it never seemed to be far from his mind. He wondered if he should show up at Luka's as they'd planned, or if he should try to find someone else to help him. It wasn't that the kiss hadn't been nice-it had been really nice. That was the problem. Peter reached for the phone, and it rang before he could pick it up to make his call.

"Human services," he said, pulling up his screen so he could log the call as he spoke.

"Peter, it's your mother." She always had this way of making simple phrases sound like orders with him. He'd long ago noticed that her tone was different with his younger sister Julie and his older brother Vince, but barely paid attention to it anymore. It was simply part of what he'd come to expect, part of his life. He'd tried for years to change that tone in her voice, to somehow make himself worthy, but it wasn't going to happen.

"Hi, Mom," Peter said. "How was your weekend?"

"Busy. I had the twins most of the day Sat.u.r.day. They're wonderful but wore me out."

"You should have called. I could have come over to help and spend time with them," Peter offered. He loved his nieces, Frances and Justine. They were six months old and Vince's pride and joy.

His mother hesitated before answering. "I do just fine with them," she said and then cleared her throat. "Anyway, I have an appointment Sat.u.r.day morning with the eye doctor. They're going to dilate, so I need a ride. Vince and Margaret would take me, but I said you could do it. They need time together with the babies, and Julie is taking summer cla.s.ses and needs time to study."

"What time is your appointment? I have a client meeting in the morning, and in the afternoon I'm teaching an ESL cla.s.s," Peter explained.

"I have to be there at eleven," she said.

His client meeting was at nine thirty and his cla.s.s was at one. Peter figured he'd have time to get to his mother's, take her to the doctor, and get her home before hurrying to cla.s.s-as long as he didn't stop to eat. His sister could certainly take time to help. After all, she still lived at home while she finished college.

"Can't Julie...," he began and heard the sound of disapproval forming deep in her throat.

"If you don't want to spend time with me, just say so," she said.

Peter groaned silently. Why was everything about guilt with his family? As far as he was concerned, there didn't seem to be anything else. He caved, like he always did. "I'll swing by right after my meeting to pick you up."

"We can stop at the store on the way and...."

"I don't think there will be time," Peter said lightly.

"Well, if there is...," she countered in her annoyed voice. "I'll be ready, just in case."

There was nothing he could do to change her mind. With him she was stubborn and demanding, and it had been that way since.... He pushed the thought from his mind as old guilt stabbed at him. "I'll pick you up as soon as I can on Sat.u.r.day." Another call came in. "I have to go, but I'll call you later in the week." They disconnected, and he took the call.

Peter had a very busy day, his only break taken at his desk while he ate and reviewed paperwork. In the afternoon, he checked out of the office and spent hours at appointments. The department was perpetually understaffed, so he worked as efficiently and quickly as he could. Peter always gave each of his cases his very best and never closed anything just to move a case along. But he also knew that while some battles could be fought, others were a loss. He was also well aware that getting bogged down in one case meant he couldn't help the other people waiting for his attention. Basically, he came in early most days and left only in time to grab some dinner and either head home or to his language cla.s.ses. Even by those standards, today had been brutal, and by the end, he was exhausted. He called in to check out for the day and then went home. He heated up the last of the burek from his dinner with Luka and ate it while watching television. After placing the dishes in the sink and then grabbing his materials, Peter headed out to Luka's for their language session.

He spent much of the drive thinking about the kiss and what he wanted to say to Luka about it. In the end, he decided it might be best to pretend it hadn't happened and to wait to see if Luka brought it up. Maybe Luka regretted what he'd done? The thing that kept coming forward in Peter's mind was how much he'd enjoyed it. The kiss had been sweet and gentle, but so caring, and if Peter were honest with himself, exactly what he'd needed. Guilt and its a.s.sociated depression sometimes snuck up on him at the oddest times, and that kind gesture from Luka had meant a lot. He went around and around in his head, never really figuring out what he should do. He had made no decision by the time he arrived except to keep things professional between them. He was here to help Luka with his English. That was all.

Peter parked his car on the empty pad, walked up to Luka's door, and knocked softly before waiting for an answer. He heard footsteps and the door opened. Luka smiled at him and motioned him inside.

"Come in," he said. "I have practice," Luka told him with a grin.

Peter heard one of the videos he'd given Luka to use in the background.

"I see," he said with a smile.

Luka hurried back into the living room and turned off the television before returning to the kitchen where Peter waited, watching him as he moved. "We should work at the table if that's okay."

Luka brought the books Peter had given him the other night and laid them reverently on the table. "I listen to all," Luka said, pointing to the pile of videos and CDs. "I read this too," he told him, indicating the book.

"Okay," Peter said as he took the book and opened it. "Let's go through it and make sure you understood what you were reading."

Luka sat down, and they spent the next hour reviewing the material. Peter conducted almost all of his instruction in English. At times they switched to Serbian for the sake of understanding, but on the whole, Peter thought Luka was doing very well.

"Did you have these topics in school?"

"Yes and no," Luka said. It was pretty clear to Peter which topics he'd had before and which were new. "I remember some."

Peter gave Luka some a.s.signments to work on for their next time together. He also told him what he should do if he decided he wanted to work harder. Given Luka's enthusiasm, he had little doubt Luka would probably do both and then come looking for more. Peter gathered his materials together. "Watch and listen to these again," Peter told Luka. "You can learn more the second time."

"Okay," Luka agreed.

Peter stood up and picked up his materials, getting ready to leave.

"I am sorry...."

Peter paused. "About what?"

"That you no like kiss," Luka said. "I will not do again."

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Peter said. Actually, he'd done what he set out to do and had said nothing, spending the past hour forcing himself to concentrate only on the work at hand. It had been difficult, to say the least.

"You say nothing," Luka told him. "Nothing means no like. So I sorry."

Peter took a deep breath. "I did like it, but that is not the point." Peter spoke as clearly as he could, trying to get his point across, and then he gave up and switched to Serbian. "It isn't that I didn't like it. The kiss was nice." Peter paused, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "I'm not good enough to be kissed like that. You can do a lot better than me." From the confused and hurt expression on Luka's face, Peter knew he wasn't making his meaning plain. "I'm one of the first people you met when you came to this country, and you should look around before you set your heart on anyone."

"Is this because you think you no worthy of love?" Luka said in succinct English, hitting the nail on the head, as it were.

"Yes," Peter said. "I've never been worthy of it, and I never will be." He turned toward the door and was about to open it to leave when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Love is for all," Luka said slowly as if searching for each word. "I learn that from Misha."

"Luka," Peter began. "I wish I could believe that." He swallowed hard, and Luka moved closer. Just like the last time, Peter couldn't move. He wanted Luka to kiss him again, but he was scared of what it could mean and worried that what Luka gave he could so easily take away if he knew the truth. Peter swallowed hard, and like one magnet is drawn to another, he moved forward toward Luka's invisible pull.

Their lips touched, and Peter clutched his books to his chest, silently willing Luka not to stop. Before, he'd been too startled to react, but this time he whimpered. Peter felt Luka deepen the kiss, fresh air, sunshine, and spices combining to form Luka's unique taste. Luka stroked his cheek with rough hands and then he kissed Peter even harder. Peter's body reacted almost instantly, excitement coursing through him. Then he kissed Luka back.

It took all his willpower not to drop the books, put his arms around Luka, and pull him close. Luka nibbled lightly on his bottom lip, and Peter moaned softly and closed his eyes, reveling in the taste and sensation.

Then Luka gently ended the kiss and stepped away, locking gazes with him. "See? Everyone deserve kiss like that."

Peter gasped for breath. All he could do was nod slowly. Any argument the logical part of his brain tried to formulate was instantly short-circuited by the "wow" he was feeling. He wanted to step forward and kiss Luka again, but his doubts held him back. "I'll see you next time," Peter said, staring blankly at the walls. Eventually, he turned toward the door, almost forgetting to open it. He reached for the k.n.o.b, pulled the door open, and stepped out into the night. He turned and saw Luka standing in the doorway, watching. Peter nearly stumbled on the walk as he made his way back toward his car.

By the time he reached the vehicle, his brain had begun to slip into gear again. He opened the back door and placed the books on the seat before closing it and climbing into the driver's seat. "d.a.m.n," Peter sighed, gripping the steering wheel. He started the car and pulled out, heading down the alley and then out to the main road.

For most of the drive home, it felt to Peter like he was floating. He'd actually been kissed, and in a way that said he was liked. Peter had been kissed before, but only as a prelude to s.e.x, and it hadn't meant anything. Not really. This kiss had been more. He'd felt it deep down, and his heart still raced with excitement. Peter decided to let himself enjoy the feeling. He had no doubt it would be short-lived, and the world and life he'd come to know would take over again.

PETER DIDN DIDN'T get home until after nine. He was still content and happy as he unlocked his door and walked into his apartment. He wanted to be able to buy a house, and had been saving for the down payment for the past few years. He hoped to have the money he needed in a year, so he lived as cheaply as he could and saved his money. Therefore, the neighborhood outside his door wasn't one of the best in the city. It wasn't one of the worst, either, but it could be rough after dark. Inside, he made sure the door was locked and the curtains drawn before wandering through. Milton wound around his legs, and Peter sat on the sofa. The gray-and-white cat jumped up next to him and began prowling over him for some attention. "I know, I haven't been home much," he said as Milton head-b.u.t.ted him and then arched his back as Peter stroked him. Milton meowed and kept prancing back and forth as if he needed to soak up as much attention as he could get. "Are you hungry?" Peter asked. get home until after nine. He was still content and happy as he unlocked his door and walked into his apartment. He wanted to be able to buy a house, and had been saving for the down payment for the past few years. He hoped to have the money he needed in a year, so he lived as cheaply as he could and saved his money. Therefore, the neighborhood outside his door wasn't one of the best in the city. It wasn't one of the worst, either, but it could be rough after dark. Inside, he made sure the door was locked and the curtains drawn before wandering through. Milton wound around his legs, and Peter sat on the sofa. The gray-and-white cat jumped up next to him and began prowling over him for some attention. "I know, I haven't been home much," he said as Milton head-b.u.t.ted him and then arched his back as Peter stroked him. Milton meowed and kept prancing back and forth as if he needed to soak up as much attention as he could get. "Are you hungry?" Peter asked.

Milton jumped down and hurried into the kitchen. Peter followed and opened a can of food, put some in a separate bowl, and placed it on the floor next to the dry food he always kept there. He emptied and refilled the water bowl and then set that down as well. Milton ate and purred at the same time, filling the kitchen with sound. Peter went into his bedroom and got undressed, then pulled on light shorts and a T-shirt. He intended to settle on the sofa in front of the television for an hour before going to bed.

His phone rang as he was coming out of the bedroom. He grabbed it off the dresser as he pa.s.sed. "h.e.l.lo."

"Mom said you gave her a hard time about taking her to the eye doctor," Julie began as soon as he answered, without any other preamble.

"I have commitments in the morning and afternoon," Peter said evenly. "Why don't you take her?" He wanted to say something about her sponging off their mother but didn't. It would only make things worse.

"She hasn't seen you in weeks and doesn't ask for that much," Julie said, ignoring his question.

"Which is why I agreed to go. But I have appointments in the morning and a cla.s.s to teach in the afternoon," Peter explained. "By some luck, I can get there in time to pick her up. Is that all you called for? To rail at me because I can't rearrange my schedule to fit what she wants and you obviously don't want to do on a few days' notice?" Julie was almost a carbon copy of their mother, right down to being a grand master at the guilt trip. "I'll pick Mom up when I'm done with my appointments. You get your studying done." With their mother out of the house, Peter imagined that the only studying Julie would get done would be anatomy. Julie was a business major.

Julie was quiet for a while, then said, "She's driving me crazy."

"Well, the best cure for that is to find your own place to live," Peter said gently. Julie could be like a volcano, quiet one second and then erupting all kinds of c.r.a.p too hot to touch the next. "If you're on your own, you can live the life you want and make your own choices without someone else second-guessing your decisions."

"But who's going to take care of Mom?" Julie asked.

"She's sixty-six and more than capable of taking care of herself. She doesn't want to because she has you to do things for her, but...." Peter stopped. He was treading on dangerous ground. Every time anyone mentioned Mom being on her own, they all looked at him as if expecting him to be the one to take care of her. Like that was going to happen. He'd moved out of the house while he was still in college, and that had been the only thing that saved him from jumping off a building.

"You could move back and take care of her," Julie said happily.

"No. Mom can sell the house if she likes and move into a senior community. h.e.l.l, she could sell the house and move to Florida. It's her life, and we don't need to try to orchestrate it for her." Peter yawned. He was getting very tired and had to get an early start in the morning. "I'm going to go to bed." His family didn't do subtle. "I'll talk to you later." He hung up before Julie could protest or decide to lecture him about more of his faults. Peter set the phone on the coffee table and turned on the television. He watched an episode of Castle Castle while lying on the sofa. Milton jumped up and settled on his chest, purring as he rested his head. while lying on the sofa. Milton jumped up and settled on his chest, purring as he rested his head.

This was as good as he always thought life would ever get. He was content, and his cat was happy. That was all he wanted and thought he deserved. "He kissed me," Peter told Milton. "Luka kissed me. He did it the other night and again tonight." Milton shifted and began rocking back and forth with his front paws. "I think maybe he likes me." Milton settled down again and blinked a few times at Peter before closing his eyes. Peter lightly stroked Milton's back as he watched the end of the episode. Once Castle and Beckett had caught the bad guy and put one of Beckett's old partners in jail for taking part in the crime, Peter carefully placed Milton on the cushion, turned off the television, and stood up to get ready for bed. He turned out the lights and walked into his bedroom. Milton jumped up on the bed and made himself a nest.

Peter cleaned up and undressed before climbing under the sheets, careful not to disturb the cat, who was gracious enough to sleep on one side of the bed. Peter turned out the light and lay down, trying to clear his mind for sleep. But all he could think about was Luka's kiss.

THE NEXT NEXT few days were unbelievably busy. On Thursday afternoon, he called Luka to make sure that they were still on for that evening. After that, he spent much of the afternoon helping a family, whose rental home had been condemned and was being torn down, find a new place to live. Peter finally succeeded in getting them into a two-bedroom subsidized apartment close to where the single mother worked. It was a good afternoon, and Peter chalked it into the win column. It often seemed like he didn't have enough of those. At the end of the workday, he hurried home and made a quick dinner. He also made sure Milton was all set and gave him some attention before leaving for Luka's. few days were unbelievably busy. On Thursday afternoon, he called Luka to make sure that they were still on for that evening. After that, he spent much of the afternoon helping a family, whose rental home had been condemned and was being torn down, find a new place to live. Peter finally succeeded in getting them into a two-bedroom subsidized apartment close to where the single mother worked. It was a good afternoon, and Peter chalked it into the win column. It often seemed like he didn't have enough of those. At the end of the workday, he hurried home and made a quick dinner. He also made sure Milton was all set and gave him some attention before leaving for Luka's.

He drove faster than he normally would, slowing down when he reached the residential areas. He turned down the alley and slowly approached Luka's place. He waited while a man walked down the alley, and then he pulled into the parking area and turned off the engine. Peter got out and looked around. He saw the man, who he thought might be out for a walk, staring at him intently. For a second, Peter wondered what he wanted, but then the man turned away and continued on his way. Peter hurried to Luka's door and knocked softly.

The door opened to Luka grinning at him. "h.e.l.lo," he said brightly. "I am glad you are here. I have listened to all of the videos and discs." His speech was measured, and the words most likely rehea.r.s.ed, but Peter was pleased. "Come in."

"Thank you," Peter said. He stepped inside, and Luka walked to the doorway, peering out for a second before closing the door. "I forgot to ask you how Bella was doing the last time I was here," Peter said in Serbian. He figured it would be much easier, especially since he was asking something important.

"She's awake and talking. Her speech is slurred, but she is improving." Luka turned away. "But she's very sad that her husband is gone. I'm worried about her." Luka went into the other room and brought in the books Peter had left.

"I'm sure she'll be all right. She has you here now, and I know she has a lot of friends."

"Yes," Luka said. "She's sad she missed the funeral."

Peter could understand that. She'd been in a coma while everyone else got to say good-bye.

"I see her every day," Luka said, switching to English.

"I'm sure that's a comfort to her," Peter said, trying to picture the emotional and physical turmoil she was going through. "Maybe tomorrow I can go with you when you see her, if you like."

Luka took a second and then nodded. "I go after work," he said, and Peter nodded. "She is happy I stay... am staying here," he corrected.

Peter sat at the table and began to arrange his materials. He needed to keep his attention on the task at hand rather than on Luka's lips or wondering how his arms would feel around him. Luka was handsome to Peter's eyes, with his dark hair. He was definitely what most people would call stocky and not too tall, strong, with an expressive face and eyes as deep and dark as a well. They made Peter wonder what was at the bottom of them, what secrets they held but were reluctant to give up.

"Why you look like that?" Luka asked with a wicked grin.

"Like what?" Peter teased.

"Like I food," Luka said and then laughed.