Chapter Twenty-Four Luke
Twenty-Four
Luke
As Luke held Sophie’s gaze, he shifted uncomfortably in his tiny folding chair, trying to ignore the way her knee kept brushing against his.
The woman had no idea what that casual contact was doing to his concentration, which was already hanging by a thread in this overheated circus masquerading as civic discourse.
He couldn’t stop stealing glances at her.
She looked like she’d stepped out of some British garden party catalog in that floral dress that hugged every curve Luke had been trying not to think about.
He tried to distract himself by watching the town through Sophie’s eyes.
Yeah, they were loud and opinionated and stuck in their ways.
But they also showed up for each other. When Isabel’s baby started fussing, three different people offered to hold him.
When Margaret struggled to hear Abe, Grace automatically moved to sit beside her and repeat the important parts.
When Caleb got too dramatic about the break-in threat, Mikkel placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and somehow conveyed “dial it back, darling” without saying a word.
This was Luke’s community. Messy, chaotic, infuriating as hell most days. But they’d shown up tonight because someone was threatening their peace, and they’d figure out how to handle it together, just like they always did.
“Speaking of new developments,” Abe said, his voice cutting through the chatter like an anchor chain.
“As some of you know by now, we have a new resident among us.” His pale blue eyes found Sophie in the crowd.
“Sophie Bennett, all the way from England. Be sure to make her feel welcome, folks. I understand you’ll be turning the old boathouse into a bookshop.
How about you stand up, introduce yourself, say a few words? ”
Sophie stood and Luke caught the slight tremor in her fingers before she pressed them together.
The motion pulled the fabric of that damn dress tighter across her hips, and Luke had to force himself to focus on her face instead of the shape of her body that the evening light was highlighting.
Christ, even nervous she was something to look at.
Her chin came up in that stubborn way he was learning to recognize.
“Okaaaaaay, thanks for that, Abe,” Sophie began.
“I’m Sophie and yep, I’m planning to open a bookshop in the old boathouse.
In fact, you can all be the first to hear what I’ve decided to call it: The Cherry Blossom Bookshop because, well”—she gestured toward the window where the cherry trees were visible—“those trees are absolutely gorgeous and I’m not about to pretend they don’t exist just to be original! ”
A few chuckles rippled through the crowd, and Luke felt his mouth twitch. There she was, turning what could’ve been a simple business announcement into a story.
“I’m hoping to open by Solstice Serenade weekend,” she continued, “though that might be wildly optimistic considering I spent my first morning here testing the lake’s temperature in a rather undignified fashion.
” More laughter now and Sophie’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“The plan is to create a proper community bookshop with lots of events. Plus I want to make sure you can actually find what you’re looking for; me being me, everything will be properly organized by genre, author, and possibly emotional impact level. ”
That got a proper laugh, especially from the knitting circle ladies, who were nodding approvingly. But Luke also caught the frowns scattered through the crowd: folks who looked like they were still making up their minds about this British transplant with her fancy ideas.
Natalie Robinson, who’d been the same year of school with him and still acted like she owned the place, arched one of those perfectly plucked eyebrows.
“Wow,” she said, voice dripping with the kind of sweetness that meant trouble.
“That’s certainly ambitious, Sophie. I hope you’ve done your research on what kinds of businesses actually survive around here. ”
Luke watched the tops of Sophie’s cheeks pinken. He felt his jaw clench. Sure, he’d had his own doubts about her chances—still did, if he was being honest. But hearing someone else voice them, seeing that flash of uncertainty cross Sophie’s features, made him feel deeply protective.
“Actually,” Luke found himself saying, “Sophie’s got solid plans. I’ve seen the business projections, the renovation timeline. She’s not just winging this.” He tried to keep his tone matter-of-fact, the way he’d talk about boat specs or weather patterns. But inside, he was feeling anything but.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Grace nodding emphatically. “Luke’s right,” she said. “Anyway, the town could use a proper bookshop.”
“Only a few days ago, you were railing against it, Luke,” Natalie said, her eyes still on him.
“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” he countered. “Anyone who’s willing to tackle that boathouse renovation deserves some credit. Most folks would’ve taken one look and run back to wherever they came from. I’m helping with the structural work, and I can tell you now, the project’s sound.”
Sophie glanced at him with a grateful smile that did stupid things to his pulse. “Luke’s been absolutely brilliant, actually,” she said, her eyes deep in his.
“I bet he has,” Caleb stage-whispered, loud enough for half the room to hear. “Very hands-on approach to customer service, our Luke.”
A few snickers echoed through the crowd, and Luke felt heat crawl up his neck like he was seventeen again and getting caught making out behind the marina.
Sophie’s cheeks went even pinker but she was still smiling, still standing tall in front of a room full of people who were probably wondering what the hell a British girl was thinking, buying a falling-down boathouse and expecting to make a living selling books.
Luke found himself hoping like hell she’d prove them all wrong.
—
When the meeting finally broke up, Luke stood and stretched muscles that had been protesting the metal chair for the past hour.
“Overwhelming?” he asked as they headed for the door.
“Fascinating,” Sophie corrected. “Like watching a really complicated family dinner where everyone knows each other’s secrets but still chooses to sit at the same table.”
Luke nodded. “That’s not far off.”
They stepped outside into the cool spring air, the lake stretching before them, calm and dark under the star-scattered sky.
Jake appeared at his elbow.
“Evening, folks,” he said with a grin that meant trouble. “You survive your first taste of Solace Springs democracy, London?”
“Barely,” Sophie laughed. “I had no idea rusty nails could be so…contentious.”
“Wait until the next budget meeting,” Jake said. “Caleb once filibustered for forty-seven minutes about the font choice for the welcome signs. ’Course, our boy Luke here usually just sits in the back and broods silently. Tonight was downright chatty for him.”
Luke gave him a look but Jake just shot him a lopsided smile back.
“So, looks like the sheriff has finally confirmed he thinks the break-ins and the island fire are all connected?” he said, keen to change the subject before his friend got too mischievous.
Jake took the bait and nodded. “Sure looks like it. Seems whoever’s doing it all is looking for something, too.”
“Any idea what they might be after?” Sophie asked.
Jake shook his head, but something nagged at Luke. Property records, maybe? Old deeds? Solace Springs had the kind of complicated ownership history that could hide secrets. Hell, half the families in town had boundary disputes going back generations.
Mabel called Sophie over then, leaving Luke and Jake alone.
“So,” Jake said the moment Sophie was out of earshot, that shit-eating grin spreading across his face again. “You and the British bookshop lady. Things getting serious?”
“Mind your own business,” Luke said.
“Come on, man. You were practically glued to her side all night. Very un-Luke-like behavior.” Jake leaned against the wall of the community center, clearly settling in for an interrogation. “You hitting that or what?”
“Hitting that? We fifteen again?”
“Jesus, you are hitting that.”
Luke rolled his eyes. Jake could come across as crude as a rusty anchor, all cocky grins and smart-ass comments that rubbed some folks the wrong way.
But Luke had known him since they were kids and underneath all that swagger was a good man who’d give you the shirt off his back without thinking twice.
Times had been rough for Jake since the divorce—watching him try to navigate the world of being newly single while pretending his heart wasn’t shattered into a thousand pieces was like watching a man learn to walk again after losing a leg.
All that talk about Sophie and relationships?
Jake’s way of living vicariously through someone else’s happiness while his own life felt like it was held together with duct tape and stubbornness.
“So what’s the plan?” Jake asked. “Please tell me you’re not going to screw this up with your usual romantic eloquence.”
“You can talk.” Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, I’m taking her to dinner tonight. The Lakeside Bistro.”
Jake’s jaw dropped. “The Bistro? Holy shit, Rhodes. That’s like…actual romance. With cloth napkins and everything.” His expression shifted to something more serious. “You know I took Monica there for our anniversary, right? We broke up a week later.”
“Oh great,” Luke muttered. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m just saying, that place has a track record. Very intense. Very…relationship-defining.” Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “But hey, maybe that’s what you need. Force you to actually use your words instead of just grunting at her.”
Luke was about to tell Jake exactly where he could shove his relationship advice when he noticed Sophie was now surrounded by three men from the volunteer fire department, all of them leaning in close, talking animatedly.
One of them—Davis, the cocky bastard—was demonstrating something with his hands that had Sophie laughing.
“You better keep an eye on that one,” Jake said, following his gaze with obvious amusement. “Davis has been asking about her since she got to town.”
Something hot and possessive flared in Luke’s chest like a gas burner catching. Sophie looked up and caught his eye, smiling that warm, private smile that was just for him. But Davis was still talking, still making her laugh, still standing too damn close.
Luke was moving before he’d consciously decided to. The three men around Sophie stepped back slightly as he approached—Luke Rhodes in protective mode was apparently not someone you wanted to test.
“Oh, hi,” Sophie said, her smile brightening. “We were just talking about the break-ins. Davis thinks—”
“I’m taking you to dinner,” Luke interrupted, the words coming out like a statement of claim rather than an invitation. Behind him, Jake groaned, putting his head in his hands.
Sophie looked confused. “Now?”
“Yeah, now.”
Davis and the other firefighters exchanged glances, clearly getting the message. Luke Rhodes had just marked his territory, and they were smart enough not to challenge it.
As they walked away, Luke caught Jake’s knowing smirk. The bastard had played him perfectly and they both knew it.
But as Sophie leaned slightly into his touch, Luke found he didn’t particularly care.