Page 67 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

“If you like that sort of thing,” Luke said, easing back on the throttle as they approached a boat dock that looked like it had been lifted straight from an architectural magazine. “Not my style, though. Too much glass, not enough character.”

Music drifted across the water; lights twinkling from what had to be Caleb and Mikkel’s place: a stunning two-story structure of warm wood and seemingly endless windows. From the water, it looked like a floating lantern.

“That’s…” Sophie searched for the right word. “Impressive.”

“Expensive,” Luke corrected, guiding the boat alongside the dock until it came to a stop.

“Sailor boy!” Caleb’s voice rang out. “And the ravishing Londoner! You finally made it!”

Caleb bounded from his house to meet them, dressed in a silk shirt patterned with tropical flowers and white linen shorts. He pulled Sophie into a hug.

“Happy birthday,” Sophie said, returning the hug and offering the wine. “Sorry it’s not gift-wrapped. My boathouse is currently more ‘construction zone’ than ‘functional living space.’ ”

“Oh honey, no apologies necessary.” Caleb accepted the bottle with a flourish. “The fact you dragged our resident hermit to a social gathering is gift enough. I should be giving you a present.”

“Hey, come on,” Luke protested, “I’m not a hermit.”

“Of course not, darling.” Caleb patted Luke’s muscled chest consolingly. “You’re a selective socializer. Now come up, come up! Mikkel’s been grilling all day, and Mabel brought her famous punch.”

Luke’s hand remained steady against Sophie’s back as they followed Caleb up the stairs to the main deck, where the party was in full swing. Sophie felt strangely nervous and exhilarated all at once. This was their first proper outing as a…what, exactly? Couple? Renovation partners with benefits? She had no idea what to call them, several weeks since they shared their first kiss. But whatever they were, they were doing it publicly now and somehow that felt significant.

The inside of Caleb and Mikkel’s home was even more spectacular than the exterior. Soaring ceilings, a wall of glass overlooking the lake, sleek furniture in warm neutrals and strategic pops of color in artwork and accessories. An open-plan living area flowed seamlessly into a kitchen that would make professional chefs weep with envy. The whole space managed to be both minimalist and welcoming, exactly the kind of modern design that Sophie had always admired in magazines. She couldn’t help but imagine what her bookshop might look like with some of these modern elements. Perhaps glass shelves that seemed to float, or strategic lighting that highlighted special collections.

But even as the thought formed, she dismissed it. No, that wouldn’t work for her vision. The modern aesthetic was beautiful here, in this architectural marvel, but her boathouse needed something different. Something that honored its history. Still, it was nice to imagine the possibilities.

“Wow,” she breathed, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “This is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?” Caleb beamed with pride. “Mikkel did the interior design himself. The man’s a genius.”

Luke made a noncommittal sound that might have been agreement. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on the floor-to-ceiling windows and staring out at the lake as though he was yearning to be back on it, on his boat and as far away from this party as he could be.

Suddenly, it seemed like they were surrounded by a wave of partygoers: Jake dressed in clothes that showed off his impressive physique to even better advantage; Ella from the museum, who immediately launched into asking Sophie if she had any British historical mysteries she could share on her podcast; Ray, whose eyebrows had somehow survived another day of electrical work; and at least a dozen others whose names blurred together.

“You want a drink?” Luke asked.

“Yes please. Mabel’s punch will be fine. Though after last time, perhaps with a defibrillator on standby.”

He smiled, gave her elbow a soft squeeze before heading off. The brief contact sent warmth spreading through her arm, which was ridiculous. She’d spent the last few weeks tangled up with the man in increasingly creative positions, and yet a simple touch on her elbow had her feeling like a Victorian maiden getting the vapors.

Get it together, Bennett.

Sophie drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the view of the lake. From this vantage point, she could see all the way across to the traditional boathouses on the western shore, her new home among them, lights glowing softly in the gathering dusk. The contrast between the two sides of Solace Lake was clear: one modern and sleek, the other weathered and historical.

Both sides beautiful in their own way.

Both with their own appeal.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear Luke approach until his reflection appeared beside hers in the glass.

“Decent view,” he said, offering her a glass of Mabel’s infamous punch.

“Yes, isn’t it?” Sophie said, taking a sip and immediately coughing as the gin hit the back of her throat. “Bloody hell, that’s even stronger than the first time I tried this! Is Mabel part-timing as a petrol station?”

“Mabel doesn’t believe in measuring.” Luke’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his gaze warm as it rested on her face. “You really do look beautiful tonight, Soph.”

“So do you.”

He pulled her close and they stood together in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the lake. “How can they afford this place?” Sophie asked eventually. “I presume Mikkel makes a decent amount of money with his interior design business?”