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“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 knowabout 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.”