Page 70 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

When Caleb managed to drag everyone into an impromptu dance to the music blaring from the speakers, Luke surprised her by pulling her into his arms without hesitation. With Luke’s arms around her, the voices in Sophie’s head—the ones whispering about crowdfunding, Luke’s summer flings, Claire, and all the ways this could go wrong—finally quieted.

This felt real. This felt right.

But her overthinking brain wasn’t about to let her enjoy it without at least trying to sabotage things. The little voice that had kept her firmly in her comfort zone all her life piped up, demanding certainty.

“So I heard you’ve had a few summer flings?”

Brilliant opening, Sophie. Really subtle.

Luke frowned, his rhythm faltering. “Who told you that?”

“Just Natalie, in her gin-soaked wisdom.” Sophie attempted a casual shrug that probably looked more like a nervous twitch. “Not that it matters. We all have history, right? I mean, I once dated a bloke who collected toenail clippings, so who am I to judge?”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up, momentarily distracted. “He what?”

“Not his own, which somehow made it worse.” Sophie grimaced. “Uni was a dark time.”

That earned her a half-smile before Luke’s expression sobered again. “Look, it was just a coupla visitors over the years. Nothing serious.”

“Not serious like with Claire,” Sophie said, the words popping out of her mouth before her brain could tackle them to the ground. Oh brilliant, Bennett. Really going for gold in the conversation-ruining Olympics, aren’t we?

Luke tensed at the mention of his ex’s name, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Before he could respond, a cool voice sliced through their tension like a scalpel through butter.

“Well, well; if it isn’t the social media sensation.”

Sophie turned to see Victoria, Abbey’s mother and Wicked Witch of Lakeside Restaurants, behind them, elegant in a fitted black dress that probably cost more than Sophie’s entire wardrobe and boathouse combined. Her smile was sharper than her cheekbones.

“I must say,” Victoria continued, “your little renovation project is doing wonders for my restaurant reservations.”

Sophie blinked, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Those Instagram posts about the bookshop. They’ve gone rather viral, haven’t they? We’ve had tourists coming in specifically to photograph Solace Lake, asking where they can find ‘that cute bookshop from the internet.’ ”

Sophie felt the blood drain from her face. Her crowdfunding updates were now drawing tourists to Solace Springs?

Victoria tilted her head. “Reminds me of when Claire first started posting about her development plans. Remember, Luke? All those influencers suddenly discovering our ‘quaint little lake town.’ ”

Beside her, Luke had gone completely still, like someone had hit his pause button. Sophie could practically feel the temperature around him drop several degrees.

“Well, I should mingle,” Victoria said, clearly satisfied with the grenade she’d just lobbed into their evening. “Do let me know when the bookshop is ready for its grand opening. I’ll make sure to warn my staff about the increased traffic.”

She glided away, leaving a chill in her wake that had nothing to do with the evening breeze.

Now. Now was her chance to tell him about the crowdfunders.

“Luke, I…” She paused. “I just posted a few updates for my friends back home,” she said in a rush, finding herself unable to tell him. “I didn’t think—”

“It’s fine, not my business.” His voice was flat as week-old lemonade. “Let’s grab some of that cake before it all disappears.”

The rest of the party passed in a blur of forced smiles and stilted conversation. What had been easy and natural between them now felt strained. By the time they said their goodbyes and headed back to Luke’s boat, Sophie felt exhausted from the effort of pretending everything was normal.

The boat ride home was quiet, the only sounds the gentle purr of the engine. Luke focused on piloting, his profile illuminated by moonlight, his expression more closed off than Fort Knox. When Sophie attempted conversation, his responses were monosyllabic at best.

Was it to do with the social media stuff? It had to be! Thank God she’d chickened out of telling him the truth. Imagine what he’d say if he knew about the crowdfunding?

Luke guided the boat to his jetty, cutting the engine and securing the boat in silence, before helping Sophie onto the dock with the same impersonal courtesy he might show any passenger. The gesture, so at odds with their usual easy physical connection, made something in Sophie’s chest constrict.

They paused on the decking and Luke rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes fixed somewhere over her shoulder. “Got an early start tomorrow. First tour at dawn.” He cleared his throat. “Probably best if we both get some proper sleep tonight.”