“A man lives here?” Viv asks, turning back around to look at me. Eyes wide, I shake my head and shrug.Clearly, a man with great taste.
The vaulted ceiling, with a fan hanging in the middle of the room, makes the space feel bigger than it is. A wall stretching to the lofted space above, with black shiplap boards and a fireplace with a wooden mantle, holds the attention of the room. Acrossthe mantle are pictures neatly arranged, and above them, a television mounted to the wall. Along the windows that stretch to the ceiling is a plush sectional couch with a giant wooden coffee table. An oversized armchair sits in the corner with a tall lamp behind it. It’s masculine and warm and so perfectly Luke.
Past the kitchen is a hallway to the front of the house and a frosted glass front door. Luke said we could change in the loft or the bathroom in the hall on the main floor. I take the loft, crossing the living room to the staircase that runs behind the shiplap wall.
At the top of the stairs, I find a neatly made queen-size bed with a side table on each side. One holds a lamp and a book by Lee Child—a Jack Reacher novel. If I had to guess, that’s Luke’s side. There’s a bench under the window and a dresser in the corner. The space is clean, but remnants of Luke’s life lie scattered about. A shirt and shorts draped on the bench, a laundry basket filled with clothes and towels, a pair of sneakers left to the side of the stairs.
I flip on the bathroom light and smile. It’s a little less polished in here, almost like he rushed out and didn’t have time to straighten up. Hair products are scattered about, a toothbrush and toothpaste sit haphazardly on the counter, and a beard trimmer is still plugged into the socket. The towels hang as if thrown on the bar, and water spots splatter the mirror. It’s not messy, but it’s not as tidy as everything else either. It smells like him in here. I inhale deeply and let it out slowly, reminding myself that however this night plays out, we’re just having fun.
Dressed in jean shorts and a comfortably loose off the shoulder t-shirt, I make my way back downstairs. Luke and Josh are pulling various prepped foods out of the fridge.
“I assumed we were ordering,” I announce as I drop my bathing suit into my bag.
Luke looks up from the fridge, tilting his head. “Why would we do that when we can just cook?”
It never occurred to me he might know how to cook. Lord knows I can’t, unless I count pouring a box of pasta into some boiling water and opening a jar of sauce.
“This man is full of surprises.” Viv wanders into the room, a balled-up bathing suit and coverup in her hand.
“Let me tell you, Mae Huffman wouldneverallow us to go through life without knowing how to make our way around a kitchen.” Josh pulls a tinfoil-covered tray covered and a variety of vegetables from the fridge. Luke seasons them, nodding in agreement.
“Viv, my love, grab that wine you promised me, would you? Let’s let that baby open up a little.” Josh swings the door open, hands full with food ready to be grilled. “Buckle up. You’re about to have the most delicious experience of your life.”
Luke’s gaze finds mine, and his eyebrows jump up, a sexy smirk tugging at the side of his mouth.
Yum.
Thirty-Seven
NO CATCHING FEELINGS
Liv
“Guys, color me impressed. That was amazing.” Viv dabs at her face with her napkin and leans back in her chair, rubbing her full belly.
“We aim to please.” Josh nods, refilling glasses with wine.
“So, you ladies leave when?” Luke asks, looking between Viv and me.
“We head out on Sunday at some point. We’ll probably leave first thing in the morning so we don’t get home too late,” Viv answers.
Something about going home creates a sinking feeling in my stomach. It’s been nice—really nice—to feel so carefree these last six or seven days. To wake up to the sound of the birds and the view of the lake rather than honking cars and delivery trucks.
I stare at my glass of wine, twisting the stem between my fingers. Two more full days, and it’s back to real life. I look up at Luke, not expecting him to be looking back at me, but he is. A weight settles in my chest.
No catching feelings.
“Done with that?” I ask Josh, reaching for his plate and standing.
“Oh, yeah, thanks!” He looks up at me and then resumes his conversation with Viv.
I grab Viv and Luke’s plates too, piling them on top of mine, and head for the kitchen. Luke grabs the tray of vegetables and leftover pieces of grilled steak and follows me inside.
“Garbage?” I scan the kitchen. Luke pulls open a cabinet door next to the sink and slides the garbage out. He sets to work, pulling out Tupperware for the leftovers and putting them in the fridge. I scrape the plates and begin rinsing them.
We clean up in comfortable silence. I wash, he dries and puts the plates back in their designated cabinet.
“Thanks again for dinner. Tonight was great,” I say, drying my hands on the dishtowel and looking out the window at the lightning bugs dancing between the trees.
