Page 78 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

£87,426 raised of an £85,000 goal.

Over a hundred grand in real money, all from strangers who now thought they had a stake in Solace Springs.

More scrolling revealed update after update: design plans, photos of the town, shots of the boathouse. And him in the background, like some local color for her little internet show.

The comments made him want to put his fist through the screen:

OMG the hot local builder helping her is straight out of a romance novel!!!

Loving these updates, especially Harbor Hottie! Planning our road trip to see it in person this summer!

Can’t wait to visit when it’s done, hopefully the boat guy will be there too! #BookTok road trip anyone?

The carpenter is HOT. More pics of him plz!

The carpenter. The builder. Boat guy. Was that all he was to her? Some background prop in her viral bookshop adventure?

Luke slammed the browser closed, feeling gutted like a fresh-caught trout. She’d made him part of her show without asking. Lied to his face about “friends” helping with funding when she’d invited the whole damn internet to invest in her fantasy.

“Luke? Everything all right?” Abbey poked her head in. “You look like you’re about to murder that computer.”

“Hey, Ab,” he managed. “Just checking the schedule.”

“Two o’clock canceled. Sunset cruise at six is still on.” She set her lunch down. “Want half my sandwich? You look like hell.”

“I’m good.” Luke stood. “Gonna check fuel.”

Outside, the lake sparkled in the sun, same as it always had. Tourists and locals mingled on the docks and nothing looked any different than yesterday.

Except everything was different.

Luke spent the next hour doing maintenance his boat didn’t need, hands working while his mind churned like lake water in a storm. When he headed back, Sophie was sitting outside her boathouse. She was wearing one of his old T-shirts. The sight sent a jolt through him: anger tangled with desire.

She jumped right up. “Luke!”

He focused on tying up his boat.

“Can we talk? About this morning. I should have told you about the crowdfunding—”

“Nothing to talk about.” His voice came out flat. Dead.

“There is, though.” She stepped closer, close enough that he caught the scent of her shampoo. Focus, Rhodes. “I should have explained from the start. It began as this silly, wine-fueled joke after my breakup and then it actually worked. By the time we got together, I didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding—”

“Like you’d lied?” Luke shot back, hands still working mechanically as he coiled rope the way his grandfather had drilled into him. “Which you did.”

“Yes.” Her voice went small. “I did. And I’m sorry.”

He nodded once, still not looking at her. “Your business. Your funding. Nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not true. It has everything to do with you.” Her hand reached for his arm, but he sidestepped, putting the rope between them. Her hand dropped. “Luke, please look at me.”

He did, briefly. The hurt in her brown eyes sent a spike of guilt through him, but he shoved it down.

“Oh, Luke, come on,” she said with a sigh. “Really, it was just a bit of fun. It’s not hurting anyone!”

Luke’s face hardened. “Fun for you, maybe. But this town isn’t some quirky backdrop for your internet followers. It’s home. Real people live here. Not some purple-haired fake nutjobs.”

That made her pause. “Nutjobs? My followers are real people, too, you know. They’re not just faceless numbers on a screen.”