Page 39 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the lake lapping gently against the pilings beneath them. Coral padded out to join them, settling at Luke’s feet with a contented sigh.

It had been this way between Luke and Grace since they were kids, Grace tagging along after him and Jake like an annoying shadow until, somewhere around middle school, she’d become the person who knew every one of his secrets without him having to say a word. She’d been there when his mom left, when his dad then his grandparents died, when Claire broke everything he thought they were building together. In a town where everyone had an opinion about everything, Grace was one of the few people who’d earned the right to tell him when he was being an idiot.

“So,” she said finally. “You and Sophie.”

Luke had known this was coming the moment he heard those damn DMs on the dock.

“Not sure there is a ‘me and Sophie’ yet,” he admitted, eyes drifting back to the still-dark window. “We were interrupted before we could figure that out.”

“But you want there to be.” It wasn’t a question.

Luke exhaled slowly, considering how much to say. He wasn’t good at putting feelings into words, at admitting things that made him vulnerable. But this was Grace. If anyone would understand, it was her.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I do. She’s different, not just from Claire. From anyone.” He smiled to himself. “You know, she’s got this whole system for everything, complete with little notes and these tiny sticky things everywhere. Looking at her renovation binder is like staring at NASA’s control room.”

Grace made a small sound of agreement. “I’ve seen it. She’s definitely organized.”

“But it’s not just that.” Luke struggled to find the right words. “She cares about doing things right. Not just to look good or because it’s trendy, but because she genuinely gives a damn about the details. She doesn’t look at the lake like it’s just pretty scenery or real estate, either. She sees the stories in it.”

“Sounds serious,” Grace observed, a smile in her voice.

Luke ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortable with how exposed he felt. “It’s…I don’t know what it is. Too soon to tell. But I haven’t felt this way in a long time.” He paused, then admitted, “Maybe ever.”

“Hmm.”

He shot her a suspicious look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Grace said innocently. “Just thinking it might be good for you to, you know, take your time. Make sure you’re both on the same page.”

“Which page would that be?”

“The one where you both know what you want from this. From each other.”

“That idiot ex of yours has turned you cynical, Grace Sullivan.” Luke still found himself smarting from the way Grace’s ex had walked out on her and Zach, leaving Grace heartbroken and in debt.

She raised an eyebrow. “Says you.” Grace picked at a splinter in the dock. “All I’m saying is, Sophie came here to start a new life, a new business. To prove something to herself. Just make sure you’re not rushing her into being part of your story before she’s finished figuring her own out.”

Luke frowned, a prickle of unease running down his spine. “Has she said something to you?”

“No, nothing like that,” Grace assured him quickly. “She’s obviously into you. Like, embarrassingly, heart-eyes-emoji into you. But she’s also trying to find her footing here. She’s only been here a week, Luke.”

Luke nodded slowly, digesting this. It made sense. Sophie had crossed an ocean to start over. The last thing she needed was some man barging in, demanding space in her carefully planned fresh start.

“Good advice,” he acknowledged gruffly.

“I’m full of good advice,” Grace said. “I also recommend showering before you see her again. You still smell like a campfire.”

Luke’s mouth twitched. “I was getting to that.”

Grace stood, brushing crumbs from her jeans. “For what it’s worth, I think you two could be good for each other. Just…don’t screw it up by being, you know, you.”

“Your confidence is touching.”

“That’s what friends are for. All right,” she said. “I better head back before Mom throws a fit.”

As Grace disappeared around the corner, Luke turned back toward Sophie’s boathouse. This time, he was rewarded with a curtain being pulled back, sunlight catching dark hair as a figure appeared at the window.

His heart did something uncomfortable in his chest, a feeling so foreign he almost didn’t recognize it for what it was: hope. Pure, undiluted hope that maybe, just maybe, this time could be different. He just needed some time with her to see if she wanted the same.