29. Twenty-Nine
Twenty-Nine
Lila
When Luke and my dad return to the cabin, my dad doesn’t seem quite as concerned as he did before. Knowing how he treated all of my past dates, I give a small sigh of relief.
The minute they left, Mom asked almost as many questions as Lily had about Luke and the Wild Band. But I notice the tension from earlier has dissolved into something warmer and more familiar.
I catch Luke’s eye, raising an eyebrow in question. He gives me a subtle nod, and the casual way he approaches and puts an arm around my shoulder makes me smile .
“Mom,” I call out, “are you guys planning on staying for lunch?”
“Please, Mom? I’m sure Luke could tell us some stories about being in Wild,” Lily pipes up. “Please?”
My parents exchange a look, and then my dad sighs. “I suppose that would be alright.”
We spend a pleasant day out on the porch. Luke and I on the swing, my parents sitting in chairs Luke brought out from the kitchen. My younger sister is sprawled across the front steps. As the sun moves lazily across the blue cloudless sky, we share stories and laugh until it’s time for lunch.
Sitting there, I realize something important: Luke fits right in with my family. I was a little concerned when I saw his family’s manor. I was worried that spending time out here, he’d miss the fancy galas and elegant society events he attended with Crystal. Instead, he seems right at home as he and my dad talk about cars and engines.
“So, you’re the guy who got Agatha to stop sputtering when the motor’s turned off?”
“Yes, sir. That was me. My dad taught me everything I know about engines.”
Watching Luke with my family—how he doesn’t roll his eyes at my sister’s fan questions, how he unconsciously treats my mother with respect. The quiet understanding that passes between him and my dad—makes me fall a little harder for him.
Later, after my family leaves with promises to leave us alone for the remainder of our stay (and Lily clutching an autographed paper), I wrap my arms around Luke’s waist.
“You had them eating out of the palm of your hand,” I murmur as I glance up at him.
He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “Your family’s is nice. Just like you.”
“Even my dad?”
“Especially your dad. He loves you a lot.”
I look up at him, my eyes soft. “And you? How are you feeling after the Jeffers family invasion?”
“Honestly?” He cups my face in his hands. “I feel like the luckiest man alive.”
I can’t help the brightness of my smile. “Such a smooth talker. ”
“You know you love it.”
“Yeah, I do. I’m glad they got to meet the real Luke Sterling and not just the Wild Band rockstar or the guy in all the news feeds.”
Pulling his head down to mine, I kiss him. It’s soft and sweet, and it’s my way of telling him that whatever comes next—whatever challenges we face—we’ll handle them together.
“Are you sure about this?” Luke adjusts his baseball cap for the tenth time as we pull into the parking lot at Juniper Springs. “Maybe we should—“
“Nope,” I interrupt, grabbing our day pack. “We’ve been holed up in that cabin for over a week. And while it’s been wonderful—the springs are calling, and we’re answering.”
He fidgets with his sunglasses, but I can see the smile tugging at his lips. “The springs are calling?”
“Loudly.” I stretch up to kiss his cheek. “Besides, you look nothing like a famous rockstar right now. You look like any good ol’ Florida boy about to go canoeing. ”
He catches me around the waist, pulling me close. “Should I be offended by that?”
“Definitely not.” I run my fingers along the top of his broad shoulders. “You wear it very well.”
The rental office is blessedly empty except for a sleepy-looking teenager who barely glances at us while processing our canoe rental. Soon, we’re pushing off from the dock, the crystal-clear spring water beckoning us forward.
Luke proves to be surprisingly adept with a paddle. “Eagle Scout,” he explains when I comment on it. “Though it’s been a while.”
The morning unfolds like a dream. We navigate the winding waterway, where Spanish moss blows lightly overhead. A white crane watches us pass with regal indifference, and turtles sun themselves on fallen logs.
“Gator,” Luke whispers, pointing to our left, where a small alligator basks on the bank.
“Wait till we see a big one,” I tease, loving how his eyes widen behind his sunglasses .
We’re rounding a bend when another canoe approaches. The couple inside wave friendly greetings, and I feel Luke tense slightly behind me.
“Beautiful day for it,” the man calls out as we drift closer.
“Perfect day,” I agree, hoping we can pass quickly.
But the man is squinting at Luke. “Hey, do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.”
Before Luke can respond, I laugh lightly. “Yeah, he gets that all the time. Some people say he looks like the keyboard player from the Wild Band.”
“Luke Sterling?” The man shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t see it. That guy’s amazing, though. Did you catch their last concert in Orlando?”
Luke clears his throat. “Missed that one, unfortunately.”
“Man, you should check them out if they come back through. The way Sterling handles those keys... he’s brilliant on that keyboard.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Luke says, and I can hear the suppressed laughter in his voice.
We exchange a few more pleasantries before the couple moves on, and once they’re out of earshot, Luke leans forward to murmur in my ear, “Brilliant, huh?”
“Oh, shut up.” I splash some water at him. “Your ego doesn’t need any more stroking.”
“I don’t know...” His hands slide around my waist. “I kind of like it when you stroke my—“
“Luke!” I’m laughing now, trying to squirm away without tipping the canoe. “We are in public!”
“Barely,” he argues, but he behaves himself... mostly.
We find a secluded spot for lunch, where we can pull up our canoe and have a brief picnic lunch. The water is impossibly clear, and after eating, we strip down to our swimsuits. Luke’s appreciative glance makes me shiver as we wade in.
“This is amazing,” Luke says, floating on his back. “How did I not know places like this existed?”
“Most people don’t.” I swim closer to him. “That’s what makes it special.”
He rights himself in the water, pulling me to him. “You make it special. ”
When he kisses me, his lips taste like spring water and sunshine. I wrap my legs around his waist, letting him keep us both afloat.
“Thank you for sharing your world with me,” he murmurs against my neck. “For knowing exactly what I needed.” His eyes meet mine, serious despite the playful setting. “For being you.”
I run my fingers through his damp hair, knocking his cap off in the process. “You know what I think?”
“What’s that?”
“I think the guy in the other canoe was right about one thing.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
I press a soft kiss to his lips. “The way you use your hands is kind of brilliant.”
His answering smile is brighter than the Florida sun overhead, and as he pulls me in for another kiss, I silently thank whatever twist of fate brought us here.
Even if it means occasionally pretending he’s just a Luke Sterling lookalike.
The last rays of sunset paint the cabin’s weathered walls in shades of gold and rose as I fold the last of our clothes into our bags. Two weeks have passed like a dream, each day blending into the next in a haze of soft touches, quiet evenings on the porch swing, and making love wherever and whenever we wanted to.
“I can’t believe we have to leave tomorrow,” I say, running my hand along the smooth wooden doorframe. The cabin holds so many memories now—not just of my childhood or my grandmother, but of Luke. Of us.
He wraps his arms around me from behind. “We could stay,” he suggests, but we both know we can’t. Reality is waiting for us back in Jacksonville.
“The media coverage has died down a bit,” I offer, leaning back against his chest. “Emily says most of the press has moved on to the next scandal.”
“Mm.” He presses a kiss to my neck. “But they’ll be watching when we get back. These past two weeks, being here with you, it’s been perfect. No cameras, no expectations. Just us. ”
“I know.” I trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips. “But we can’t hide forever.”
“Can’t we?” But he’s smiling now, soft and a little sad. “We could become hermits. Live off the land. I could learn to fish.”
I laugh despite the ache in my chest. “You hate fishing.”
“I’d learn for you.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” I stretch up to kiss him softly. “And I wouldn’t want you to. Your music is part of who you are, Luke. I like all of you, not just the parts that fit into a quiet cabin in the woods.”
He pulls me closer, burying his face in my hair. “When did you get to be so wise?”
His kiss starts off slow but deepens into that now-familiar passion. When he pulls back, he smiles at me.
“Let’s make this a night to remember.” He leans down, sweeps me up in his arms, and carries me into the bedroom. He makes mad, passionate love to me until I call out his name in my climax. Holding him while he follows me over that sharp edge of desire.
Lying in bed, I watch Luke sleeping peacefully beside me. In the pale moonlight filtering through the window, he looks younger, unburdened. Here, he’s just been Luke—my Luke. Not Luke Sterling, the famous Wild Band keyboard player.
He’s such a talented musician—but there’s so much more to him. More than I ever dreamed.
Luke’s a fascinating blend of contradictions: sweet yet sexy, arrogant yet humble. He can effortlessly rock a tux at a gala yet feels completely at ease having a picnic or cooking in a rustic kitchen. He’s accustomed to the luxury of a limo but equally comfortable behind the wheel of his Jeep. He can fit in anywhere.
Tomorrow, we head back to reality, and I wonder if I’m ready for what that means. It’s one thing to promise, that I can handle the pressure of dating a rockstar. It’s another thing to actually live it. The thought of the lack of privacy and the social media speculation are daunting. Will I still be able to run my business when every client knows I’m Luke Sterling’s girlfriend? And what about when he’s touring? The thought of being separated for weeks or months at a time makes my chest tight.
But then Luke shifts in his sleep, reaching for me even in his dreams, and I know deep in my bones that he’s worth any amount of scrutiny .
Next weekend, I’ll go with him for an overnight trip to Tampa for a performance. Just one night, he said, to see how it feels. To dip my toe in the water before diving into the deep end. The thought both terrifies and excites me. I want to see him in his element, and I want to understand that part of his world. And if I can handle that small taste of his life on the road, I’ll know for sure that I can handle everything else.
Rolling onto my side, I trace my fingers lightly over his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath my palm. The truth is, I’m already in too deep to turn back now.
We’ll figure out the rest together, one day at a time.
Luke stirs, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips without opening his eyes. “I can hear you thinking,” he mumbles sleepily.
“Sorry,” I whisper, then I get an idea. “Hey, would you like some pancakes?”
“At this hour? It’s midnight.”
“Is that a no?”
“Of course not. It’s more like a hell yeah,” Luke says as he rolls out of bed.
After fifteen minutes of cooking in the kitchen, we carry the finished pancakes back to bed. Sitting naked on the bed, we feed each other bites, in between kisses, the taste of sweet maple syrup on our lips—and we make love again.
Afterward, with Luke’s arms holding me close, I know in my heart that we have something special—something real.