Page 2 of Luke

“I’ll remember that,” I say, taking another second to appreciate just how beautiful she is before dropping my gaze to look at her hands. No ring that I can see. But then again, sheisworking in the garden. It’s hard to believe a girl like her—nice and sweet and damn-near perfect looking—could be single, but a guy can hope, right? “Can I get your name? You know, so I’ll know who to ask for at the hardware store?”

And so I can put a name to the face that I know for sure will be appearing in my dreams for at least the next few nights.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d accuse you of flirting with me.” Her pretty eyes sparkle mischievously. “Sophia Hensen, to answer your question.”

I wasn’t expecting her to call me out like that, but I can’t pretend that I don’t like it. And anyway, she’s absolutely right.

“Luke Goldberg,” I say, reaching out to shake her hand. Jesus, how is her skin so soft when she has a physically demanding job and loves to garden? This girl should have more callouses on her hands than I do… but she doesn’t. And now I realize I still haven’t let go of her hand. “Sorry,” I lie, not sorry at all. “You might be right, though. I might be flirting just a little.”

The flush in her cheeks deepens, and she looks away, suddenly very preoccupied with the bags of potting soil. Did I say too much? Embarrass her with that awkwardly long handshake?

I don’t want to push my luck, but I also need to hear her soft, sweet voice one more time before I leave. “I’ll let you get back to your garden,” I say, taking a step toward the fence gate. “But I’ll be sure to look for you the next time I’m at Carpenter’s.”

She looks up at me with a smile that I instantly try to photograph in my mind. “I hope you do. Have a good day, Luke.”

I can’t stop smiling as we say goodbye and I start jogging down the street again. The sun is up and the fog is lifting now, but all I can see is Sophia Hensen’s beautiful face in my mind’s eye.

And now that I’ve met her? I doubt my day can get much better than it already is.

2

SOPHIA

It’s only been two days since I met Luke out in my front yard, but it feels like a lot more time has passed. Probably because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the handsome, flirty architect for more than five minutes at a time since he waved goodbye and went on about his business.

I may have even found a few more chores for myself outside yesterday in the hopes that he might stop by again. And even though I should have done myself a favor and forgotten all about him when he didn’t show up, his absence only made me wonder where he was instead. Did he only exercise on certain days of the week? Only on the weekend? Did he take a different route every time he went for a run? Was I too flirty? Not flirty enough?

Those questions and a million others had been zipping through my mind on repeat so many times that it was a relief when my Monday afternoon shift at the hardware store finally rolled around.

But I clocked in forty-five minutes ago and I’ve still caught myself leaning against the counter and staring off into the distance at least a dozen times, then catching my breath whenever a new customer will walk in, hoping every time that it’ll be him.

And I’ve been disappointed every time.

I sigh and walk away from the register, hoping that I can pass the time and keep my mind at least sort of preoccupied with restocking the shelves near the back of the store. I shouldn’t even be allowing myself to think about Luke—just like I shouldn’t have allowed myself to fantasize about him last night when I spent a little too long in a hot, relaxing bath. I’m honestly not even sure I’m ready for a relationship after the way my last ex treated me. Sure, I can objectively say that most men aren’t like him—but does my heart really know the difference? What if I let myself get carried away with Luke, only to be disappointed?

I nearly laugh out loud because it’s pretty clear that I’ve already let myself get carried away. “God, Sophia,” I scold myself under my breath. “You really need to get it together. One guy spends a few minutes talking to you and you’ve suddenly forgotten all about how badly Denny hurt you a year ago.”

“Hope I didn’t just hear you take my name in vain, Soph.”

I cringe at the nickname and the too-familiar voice that goes along with it. Also, God, it’s like I’ve conjured my ex out of thin air, just by thinking about him.

Mental note: No more thinking about this jerk. Ever.

“What do you want, Denny?” I ask, barely turning my head to acknowledge him.

“Is that any way to greet me?” His mocking tone and fake pout make me want to throw up. “After everything we’ve been through? Come on, you clearly need some adult interaction. I just caught you mumbling to yourself, for Christ’s sake.”

I should be embarrassed that he heard me talking to myself, especially since it was sort of about him, but I’m more annoyed by his smug, arrogant tone and the way he’s quietly making fun of me for no reason at all.

“You’re right,” I give a half-shrug. “I probably do need some meaningful adult interaction in my life, but…” I make a show of looking around before turning back to the shelf I’m stocking. “I don’t see any adults around here. Maybe you can run along and find one for me, hm?”

His eyes narrow and I almost regret my sarcasm. Almost. Denny can be mean—downright cruel—when he thinks he’s been slighted, but I don’t care anymore. There was a time when I would have cowered and apologized for stepping out of line, but that time has passed.

“Why do you have to be like that?” He shakes his head. “It’s that kind of attitude that will keep you single. It’s one of the reasons why I broke up with you.”

I don’t even try to hide my disgust. Or my eye-roll. “Oh, is that how it happened? Because I distinctly remember breaking up withyouwhen I caught you cheating on me. Anyway,” I flap a hand to shoo him away. “Do you actually need something? Or are you just here to annoy me?”

His nostrils flare as he inhales a deep breath. And I’d have to be blind to miss the anger in his eyes, but I’m feeling brave. Or foolish, maybe. Brave, foolish, and fed up with his nonsense. Still, the way he’s staring daggers through my head makes me involuntarily take a step back.

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