Page 59 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

Sophie’s heart ached for the boy Luke had been, losing his mum at such a crucial age, then having his father become an alcoholic. She reached out, her hand covering his. “I’m sorry.”

Luke looked down at their hands, then up at her face. “Yeah, me, too.”

“Do you wish you could talk to your mum now?”

“Nah. She tore our family apart.” His voice seemed to have a carefully constructed neutrality that came from years of pretending the hurt wasn’t still raw. “And like I said, she turned me into a teenage jerk. Poor Abbey.”

“So…if it weren’t for your mum leaving,” Sophie asked, “do you think you and Abbey would still be together?”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “You jealous, Bennett?”

“Me? Jealous? That’s ridiculous. I don’t do jealous. I’m far too mature and sophisticated to—” She stopped mid-sentence when she caught the amused look on his face. “Fine. Maybe a tiny bit jealous. She’s basically a walking advertisement for small-town perfection.”

Luke pulled her closer, his arm around her shoulders feeling warm and solid. “And you’re a walking advertisement for English rose perfection. But no, no regrets because,” he said softly, “if I hadn’t made that mistake, I might still be with her and would never have met you.” He then gestured to her roll. “You gonna eat that?”

Sophie took a bite and made an involuntary sound of pleasure. It really was divine: buttery, sweet, and perfectly seasoned. Proper seafood that tasted like the best bits of every lake and beachside holiday had been stuffed into a bun.

“Oh my God,” she said when she could form words again. “This is incredible.”

“Told you,” Luke said, trying and failing to hide his satisfaction.

She took in the panorama of Solace Springs laid out below them, lights twinkling along the lakeshore like fallen stars. She made a mental note to return during the day and bring a book with her. “I can see why you’d choose this over white tablecloths any day. Ray’s a character, too.”

“Yeah, our dads were best pals. Was like an older brother to me.”

“I realize I’ve never asked, do you have any siblings?”

Luke shook his head. “Only child. You mentioned you have an older sister? She like you?”

“Oh God, no, Lisa’s chaos in high heels. Lives in Brighton, works in events, which basically means she gets paid to drink prosecco, boss people around, and somehow pull off miracles with fairy lights and portable toilets.” She shook her head fondly. “We’re total opposites. She thrives on chaos; I’m over here maintaining a detailed log of every book I’ve ever read, with star ratings and emotional impact scores. She calls me ‘wholesome with a vengeance’; I call her a health and safety nightmare.” Then, softer, “But she’s loyal. Wild, but loyal. And if someone messes with me? God help them.”

Luke laughed. “She sounds interesting.”

“Oh, she is. She was always the family rebel. Drove my parents nuts, sneaking out, getting into trouble. When our mum got sick a couple of years ago, though…” She paused, swallowing around the familiar ache. “She was amazing. Handled all the arrangements, dealt with the doctors. I was useless, just crying and panicking, but Lisa just…stepped up.”

“Sounds like a good person to have in your corner.”

“Definitely. She’s got that same protective streak you do. Always looking out for everyone else. Like the way you did at the town meeting earlier. I liked that.” She traced abstract patterns on Luke’s veined hand then leaned into his neck.

“Do you miss home?” he asked her.

“Sometimes. But this feels like home, here with you right in this nook,” she said, snuggling her cheek into the warm spot between his collarbone and neck.

They stayed on that bench long after their food was gone, talking about safer topics. When the spring chill finally drove them back to Luke’s boat, Coral was so deeply asleep she didn’t even wake when Luke gently placed her on a comfy blanket on one of the boat’s benches. Sophie watched the tender way he handled his dog and listened as he whispered to Coral. She couldn’t quite believe she’d met such a bundle of contradictions in a man: all hard and soft rolled into one, and it just made her want to roll around with him.

Clearly Luke felt the same, something electric crackling in the night air between them. The gentle lap of water against the wooden pilings seemed to echo Sophie’s heartbeat—too fast, too loud.

“There’s a part of the lake that you can go to at night and it feels like there’s nothing else around you,” he said, voice husky. “Let’s go there before heading back? But first, I might just put this one in the cabin.”

Sophie watched as Luke gently carried a still-sleeping Coral down into the boat’s small cabin, tucking her onto a cushioned bench inside. When he returned to the deck, his large arms were loaded with throws. He wrapped one around her shoulders then took her hand, helping her walk toward the front of the boat. When he released her hand to start the engine, Sophie felt the loss of contact like a physical thing.

The motor hummed to life, a quiet purr rather than the roar she’d expected. Luke handled the controls with an easy confidence, guiding them away from the dock with barely a ripple. As they glided into open water, the air between them seemed to compress, as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the atmosphere, replaced by something far more combustible.

They glided farther from shore, the town lights growing smaller. Then, as they rounded a small peninsula, even those vanished. The darkness enveloped them completely, creating the strangest sensation, like they were no longer on a lake at all but suspended somewhere between earth and sky. It was disorienting and magical at once, as though they’d slipped into some in-between place where normal rules ceased to exist.

Without another word, Luke cut the engine, letting them drift in the perfect stillness. He then joined her on the bench, hand on her knee. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the quiet lapping of water against the hull.

Luke seemed deep in thought. Distracted.