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I run up the porch to unlock the front door.
“Thanks.” He passes by me into the house. His scent blows by with him, the same aroma that taunted me on the drive here. Like sandalwood and soap. It’s simple, not like Blake and his exotic overpriced cologne.
Stop thinking about him.
My gaze dips to Luke’s firm rear, outlined perfectly in his jeans as he walks into the kitchen, to the left of the entry.
Damn.Don’t think about that, either.
I shut my eyes. I will not exchange one mistake for another.
Spinning around, I head back to the SUV.
Hauling the recording equipment into the cabin gives me a few minutes to pull myself together and calm my irritation. By the time we’re done, I’m ready to have a normal conversation.
“This is a nice setup.” Luke stuffs his hands in his pockets, his eyes trailing over the open-concept living and kitchen areas. The galley kitchen is small, but the appliances are up to date, the counters are pale granite, and the cupboards match the cherry wood front door. There’s an island between the kitchen and the living room with three cushioned bar stools.
The living room is sparsely decorated, with one overstuffed couch and chair bordered by end tables and facing a gas fireplace.
A spiral staircase between the two rooms curves up to an open loft, where the edge of a comforter peeks out.
“Do you need—”
The stomp of footsteps running across the patio derails my question, the front door flies open, and my sister bursts into the room, throwing her arms around me.
“You’re here!”
Behind her, Archer shakes Luke’s hand. Archer is as broad as a tank. His giant mitt engulfs Luke’s more slender fingers. They move into the kitchen, where Archer points out where he can find supplies.
“I am here.”
Finley pulls back, her hands still clutching my shoulders. “I’m so glad you made it. I have so much to show you, and we have so much catching up to do. You have some time today, right? I haven’t seen you in months.”
She smiles, but the tension strains her features. Her back is ramrod straight, her shoulders rigid.
“What’s wrong?”
Her smile brightens. “It’s nothing. I just,” she glances over her shoulder at Archer and then lowers her voice, “I need some sister time. We talk on the phone, but it’s not the same.”
“I know. You’re absolutely right. We can hang out now.” I have to make time for Finley. I’m sure she wants to vent more about Jake, not to mention the massive amount of work she’s been doing to get this place in order for the upcoming camp, and who knows what else.
Yet, despite the inevitable stress from all of it, she looks fantastic. She’s practically glowing, even dressed in ratty old overalls and a faded long-sleeved flannel, her hair pulled back in braids with a beanie on her head to ward off the chill.
“Can I show you around now, or did you want to settle in back at the house first?”
Before I can come up with a reply, Archer strides over and gives me a side hug. “We’ve cleaned out your old room. We could turn up the heat in the cabin next door if you’d rather stay there? At least until your producer friend arrives.”
“No, it’s fine. I want to stay in the house with everyone.” I turn to catch Luke’s eye. “We should probably put off our work until tomorrow then.”
Relief glimmers on his face. “That’s fine. I can write out some of the songs I have up here.” He taps the side of his head.
Is he relieved to get away from me?
I flick the thought away. It doesn’t matter.
* * *
An hour and a half later, Finley has dragged me from one side of the property to the other, showing me the facilities.
