Page 12 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

“I know just how you can make up for being so rude to your new neighbor, honey!” Mabel said. “You can help her renovate her boathouse!”

Everyone around the café nodded.

“There’s a whole load of driftwood that’s swept ashore on the island,” Margaret said. “Abe was planning to collect it but his back’s playing up.”

“Good idea,” Grace said. “It’d make decent material for some bookshelves.”

“Wonderful,” Mabel said. “You should take Sophie there in your boat before it gets swept away again, Luke.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary,” Sophie said quickly, the words practically tripping over themselves to escape her mouth. The thought of spending extended time with Luke made her want to swim back to civilization. “I’m sure Mr. Boathouse Defender here has plenty of…wooden things to build, or whatever.”

Luke suddenly stood and for a moment Sophie thought he might walk out. But instead, he looked at her, those impossibly blue eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that almost made her forget why she was annoyed with him.

“I’ll take you to the island tomorrow,” he said, voice low and firm. “Sunrise.” His gaze swept over the soft pink button-down dress and cream cardigan she’d changed into with a barely concealed grimace. “Wear something practical and warm. Lake gets cold in the morning.”

Before she could respond with something suitably sarcastic, he was gone, the bell above the door jingling in his wake. Sophie stared after him, caught between irritation and curiosity, not quite ready to admit that despite his gruff manner, there was something about Luke Rhodes that made tomorrow’s sunrise suddenly seem a lot more interesting than it had any right to be.

Six

Luke

Luke slouched deeper into his porch chair, watching the sun bleed pink and gold across the lake as Coral rested her chin on his thigh. Spring evenings always turned everything soft and hazy, like someone had thrown silk scarves over the world. Not that he’d ever say that out loud. Man had a reputation to maintain.

He took another pull from his beer, trying to wash away the taste of guilt he’d been choking on since that scene at the café. Making an ass of himself in front of the whole damn town was bad enough. Making assumptions about Sophie Bennett’s plans without even asking her first? That was the kind of rookie mistake his grandfather would’ve tanned his hide for.

The lake stretched out before him, mirror-smooth except where a family of ducks cut V-shaped ripples through the sunset’s reflection. Everything smelled like cherry blossoms and lake water, a familiar mix that announced spring had arrived. Usually, this was his favorite time of day. Right now, it was just giving him too much space to think.

Movement caught his eye. A silhouette in the window of the boathouse next door. Sophie, sitting by one of the front windows, reading. The failing light turned her into something almost ethereal, like one of those old stories about lake spirits his grandmother used to tell. Maybe she was still wearing that pink dress, the one that made him feel like he was about to lose all sense and rip it off her, right there in that damn café.

“Christ,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Get it together, Rhodes.”

“Talking to yourself now?” a familiar voice called from the dock. “That’s never good.”

Luke didn’t bother turning around. “Shouldn’t you be out rescuing cats from trees or something, Martinez?”

Jake Martinez, Solace Springs’ fire chief and former boat thief dropped into the chair next to him. The scent of smoldering timber wafted off him, a leftover from the last blaze his firefighting crew had battled. And by the shadow of stubble on his grizzled jaw, Luke could tell he hadn’t made it home yet.

“Nah, all the cats are behaving today,” Jake said, “unlike some people I could mention. Bumped into Grace earlier. She said you made quite the scene at the café this afternoon.”

“You and Grace gossip worse than the knitting circle.”

“This town runs on gossip and coffee, you know that.” Jake stretched out his long legs. “So. The new girl. Heard you really stepped in it.”

Luke grunted, but his mind was already replaying the way she’d squared up to him in the café, all fire and British indignation. The memory of that spark in her brown eyes, the slight catch in her accent when she’d gotten angry—it had hit him hard, made him want to push her buttons just to see what else that pretty exterior was hiding. He took another swig of beer, trying to cool down thoughts that had no business heating up.

Jake nodded toward the boathouse where Sophie’s shadow now moved behind the windows. “Saw her walking in town earlier. She’s cute.”

“Don’t.” The word came out sharper than Luke intended.

Jake’s smile grew knowing. “So you agree, then?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not. You’re just taking her out on your boat tomorrow morning because…?”

“Because the whole damn town cornered me into it. Because I was an idiot and owe her an apology. Because—” He stopped, jaw clenching.

“Because she’s just your type,” Jake finished for him. “Your kryptonite. All soft curves and dark hair. Another city girl who’s going to get under your skin, just how you like ’em, even though you pretend you don’t.”