Chapter 16
Fact or Fiction?
That’s a big cock.
Addison
Luke’s cabin is nice. Ten times nicer than my place. Nicer than any single male deserves honestly.
It’s a modern, cozy mountain chalet vibe with rustic natural wood touches all over. The main floor is an open layout with
the kitchen and dining area on the right when you walk in and a sunken living area on the left. The walls on either side of
the stone fireplace are framed with freshly chopped wood stacked all the way up to the ceiling, confirming what Luke said
about staying warm in the winter.
Natural light pours in the front windows that provide stunning views of the mountainside and the small community of Jamestown
down below. I went to the Mercantile once with Luke years ago now but haven’t been back since. I imagine we’ll be going more
often now that we’re living together.
God, that’s so weird to say.
I’m moving in with Luke. I’ve never had a roommate in my whole life. I lived with my dad until I was twenty years old and
went straight from his place to my one-bedroom apartment that I still have today. Hopefully living with my dad prepared me
at least somewhat for this situation I’m walking into.
Off the kitchen and living area is a short hallway with two bedrooms directly across from each other and a bathroom at the end of the hall.
Luckily, Luke’s room has its own attached bath, so the hallway will be all mine.
I know we’re friends and everything and apparently now husband and wife, but sharing a bathroom with Luke Fletcher was certainly not on my bingo card this year.
I’m not ready to see his mustache whiskers in the sink or worry about him walking in after I’ve pooped.
Come to think of it, I’m going to start pooping at the lumberyard. I can hold it until then and it will be best for our friendship
to keep that side of me a mystery. There’s really only so much those toilet sprays can disguise.
I glance around my bedroom, which is starting to look semidecent now. The queen bed already had bedding, but I threw one of
my fuzzy blankets on top, then stuffed the closet to within an inch of its life and filled the small dresser in here with
my unmentionables. Luke’s brothers helped haul all my stuff inside, but they put the boxes marked bedroom into Luke’s room
so we had to move them across the hall after they left.
Acting like Luke’s real wife for the next year is going to be a serious challenge. I’m starting to see how this will benefit
Luke though, which, as his best friend, I’m totally on board for. Who knows how they’ll react in twelve months once we’re
done. Perhaps he’ll play the broken heart card, and they’ll leave him be for a while after.
At least we’re both clear on our opposition to marriage.
Marriage . . . a real marriage . . . is just never something I want in life. I’ve been this way since I was a teenager. I
like control too much. I like to make my own decisions. I don’t want to factor another person into my day, which is why this
whole marriage clause in the family trust is so damn ironic.
Not to mention my parents’ marriage was never one to admire, so if there’s even a remote chance I could turn out like them . . .
hard pass.
But acting like Luke’s wife won’t be that hard. Really a wife is just a friend, and Luke and I do the friendship thing pretty well, so it’ll be fine. As long as I don’t have to kiss him in front of everyone, we’ll manage.
I lick my lips as that kiss from the clerk’s office rushes to the forefront of my mind. The way his hands squeezed at my waist,
I swear to God I can still feel him pressed—
“How’s it going in here?” Luke asks, yanking me out of my traitorous thoughts as he stands in my doorway, looking around the
bedroom.
His hand is hanging from the top of the frame and the casual lean of his body is making those dirty thoughts I was just having
feel really hard to push away. “Um . . . I’m good. I think I’m pretty much done in here and ready to move into the kitchen.”
“Perfect. Trista just dropped off some food for us if you’re hungry.”
“She did?” I ask, my stomach instantly rumbling at that mention.
“Yeah, come on.” He taps my doorframe and continues down the hall toward the kitchen.
I blow out a long breath, calming myself before I emerge, pausing in front of his bedroom door and taking in his large king
bed. It’s covered in a soft gray comforter and perfectly made. I wonder if Luke made that because I was coming over or if
he’s a wake-up-and-make-your-bed kind of guy. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. And he’ll find out I’m a never-make-my-bed
kind of girl.
I make my way out into the kitchen just as Luke dishes up something that looks like a pasta dish into a couple of bowls. I
sit down at the kitchen island beside him and salivate when I smell pesto.
“God, I’m starving.”
“Me too and I haven’t been working nearly as hard as you have.”
We both go to town on some yummy bow tie noodles and while we eat, my eyes wander around his kitchen with envy for the tenth time since I got here today. I’ve been in Luke’s house before but this is the first time I’ve been in it and looked at it as mine . . . for the next year at least.
He has a full chef’s-style kitchen with black cabinets, white marble countertops and light wood accents throughout. We’re
seated at the island that holds three brown leather barstools, but my eyes zero in on the most important part . . . a double
oven.
Let me say that one more time . . .
A double oven.
I am officially aroused.
“Where should I put my KitchenAid mixer?” I ask, scooping another bite into my mouth.
“Oh, actually . . . I think I have a cupboard for that.” Luke stands and moves around the island to the lower unit cupboard
by the sink and my eyes go wide when he opens it.
“Does that thing pop up?”
“Yep. I think it’s literally meant for one of those things. There’s an outlet inside too.”
“Oh my God!” I exclaim excitedly. “Why did you install one of those if you don’t even bake?”
“The cabinets in here were yanked out of a remodel we did ages ago,” he says, turning to lean on the counter as he splays
his hands out wide looking positively indecent with that mustache, backward hat, and bare feet. “The marble countertops are
recycled too. I designed the kitchen around the castoffs from that house because they were still in pretty good shape and
I was on a limited budget.”
“Holy shit, this whole kitchen is recycled?” I gape at the appliances that still look nice. “Who on earth would gut my dream
kitchen?”
“Someone loaded,” he replies with a huff, rejoining me at the counter. “At least I found them all a loving home.”
“Yes, you did.” I open my mouth to take another bite but gasp when I remember something I really should have got out of the box as soon as we arrived.
Abandoning my food, I scurry around the island and grab the box up off the floor that contains my most prized possession.
“Okay, I have someone very special for you to meet,” I say as I pull back the cardboard to grab a glass jar with a lid. “This
is Mildred.”
Luke rolls his eyes. “You’ve already introduced me to your sourdough starter, Roe.”
“I know but now that you’re roommates with her, I think you need to give her a proper greeting.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I shrug and blink coyly back at him. “Maybe give her a sniff or something.”
Luke fights back a smile, clearly thinking I’ve lost it, but does as I say, popping the sealed lid off and bringing the glass
to his nose, twitching his mustache as he inhales deeply. “She smells of rich ferment.”
My jaw drops as I fight back a smile. “Are you flirting with me, Fletcher?”
“I’m flirting with Mildred.” He winks and the sight of him looking at me like that while clutching my precious dough does
a weird thing to my insides, so I quickly grab her out of his hands to put her in the fridge before she gets so excited, she
bubbles up and I have to make bread all night long.
“Do you guys have well water here?” I ask as I open the fridge door.
“Actually it’s natural spring water from the creek that runs out back.”
“Holy shit.” I clutch Mildred to my bosom. “Mildred is going to thrive on that.”
Luke laughs and shakes his head. “You are off your rocker.”
“This was your idea, pal.” I can’t wipe the smile off my face as I continue unpacking my stuff, feeling more excited with every passing minute. I should have fake married Luke ages ago just to get my hands on this sweet kitchen.
Golden light streams in on my face from the dining room window and I walk over to admire the view. “This won’t suck to come
home to every day.”
“Yeah, it never gets old either.” Luke joins me, standing right beside me, our shoulders brushing as we take in the sweeping
vista. “I remember when we were building Wyatt’s cabin and I had to drive back to my apartment in Boulder, I swear I could
feel my soul being sucked out of my body the closer I got to town.” He sniffs and shakes his head at his memory. “It just
feels so much calmer up here. Like you can forget life’s problems down there.”
I nod in agreement and turn my gaze from the view to Luke. He’s wearing a classic blue flannel and his eyes are soft and a
sleepy-looking. He looks so cozy and safe. Like I could just wrap my arms around him and lie down with him all night.
That erratic thought causes a knot to form in my throat as I jerk my head back and try to fix my brain. This is just my friend
Luke. Not my cuddle buddy, not a guy I should be fantasizing about kissing. Just . . . Luke.
A soft tapping comes from the front door and I frown as I look over to it.
“That’s just Rufus.” Luke walks over to open the door and my eyes widen when I see a chicken march through the door.
“Your rooster comes inside?” I ask, remembering that name from his pros and cons marriage proposal.
Luke bends over and pets the brown and auburn feathers on his body. “Yeah . . . he usually comes inside at this time of night