Page 46 of Honeymoon Phase
“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 for a snack. You don’t mind, do you?”
I cross my arms and smile. “Oh, this I have to see.”
I watch in fascination as Luke’s rooster follows him into the kitchen, sticking close to his feet as he gets some tortilla shells out of the fridge and pulls half a piece off before moving over to the cupboard to retrieve a small ramekin dish. He digs into another cupboard for some crushed walnuts and then gestures for me to follow him into the living room.
I sit on his camel-colored leather sofa as Luke adds some more logs to the fire and stretches out on the rug, lying on his side as Rufus the Rooster comes over, clucking up a storm in anticipation.
Luke tears the tortilla into tiny pieces and puts them in the small dish, holding it out for the bird, and Rufus pecks at the ramekin, jerking his head back to get the food down his sharp beak. Luke smiles up at me like a kid on Christmas morning. “It’s cool, right?”
“It’s something,” I reply with a laugh, tucking my legs under my chin.
“Did you ever have any pets?” he asks, taking his hat off and setting it on the floor to run his hand through his hair. The fire backlights his wavy strands making him look like he’s posing for some sort of farm life magazine.
I hesitate before answering his question, my knee-jerk response wanting to be no. But there’s something about this moment and this night and, hell, this week, that makes me want to tell the truth.
