The Boys Who Loved Me - Krista Wolf Page 0,15
side by side, thigh to thigh.
“We never went this way,” I said. “We never—”
Suddenly a clearing opened up, and a small lakehouse sprang into view. It was a cute two-story structure with a slanted roof and cedar shingles. A wrap-around deck, made of some kind of red wood, provided a picture-perfect view of the water.
“You rented a cabin?” I said excitedly.
Luke laughed as he brought the truck to stop. “Not exactly.”
I hopped down, and he helped me as he always did. The feel of his hands on my hips was startlingly familiar. It sent tingles through my body.
“Are we—”
“Come inside and see,” he smiled, pulling me along. “Eat first, then questions.”
The interior of the cabin was sparse and minimalist, with just the right amount of space versus decor. There was a fireplace in the back wall. Two comfortable-looking couches facing each other, with a big dhurrie area rug flopped between them.
“What’s that amazing smell?” I asked excitedly.
“Coffee, probably,” he smiled. “Or it could be bacon. Or eggs.”
To one side, a sturdy wooden ladder led to a spacious upper loft. I could see bedding up there. A mattress maybe, or the soft half of a futon. As I stood gawking, Luke jumped behind the counter of the little kitchen, which happened to face the lake. As he slid on an oven mitt, I caught a glance over his shoulder and gasped at the view.
Oh my God.
Floor to ceiling windows gave a breathtaking view of the smooth deck planking, and the shimmering waters beyond.
“Or cheese,” he continued, pulling something round out of the oven. “Or spinach.”
He unwrapped two layers of aluminum foil, revealing a thick, beautiful quiche. Steam rose up from it. It smelled like heaven.
“Luke!” I swore incredulously. “What in the—”
“Fix the coffee?”
He slid me a container of milk, then nodded at a tiny mug rack resting next to a sugar bowl. For the next minute I poured coffee from a hot, freshly-brewed pot, adding just enough sweetener and milk to make it exactly the way we both liked.
“You still remembered, huh?” he grinned.
“Well I’ve probably made you coffee a hundred times,” I admitted. “What I don’t get it how this stuff was already here, already made. Are you like a wizard or something?”
“Or something,” he agreed. “Here,” he said, holding up two steaming plates. “Let’s eat out on the deck.”
Through a sliding door we went, past a little wrought-iron table and over to the deck’s back railing. Luke laid our plates down on the smooth surface of the top rail, and handed me a fork. I handed him his coffee.
“Here’s to you coming home,” he said, raising his mug.
I toasted him back, but only mechanically. I was still dumbstruck by the sight of the beautiful sunrise glimmering off the smooth, tranquil waters.
“I prepared this yesterday,” he admitted, cutting and eating his first delicious bite. “I had a neighbor sneak in and turn the stove on. The coffee machine’s on a timer.”
I would’ve laughed if my taste buds weren’t busy climaxing in my mouth. It was really that fucking good.
“Neighbor?” I asked when I could speak again.
“Yes.”
“You… live here?”
Luke grinned boyishly through another forkful. He held a finger up as he sipped his coffee to wash it down.
“I live in town,” he said, his voice going somewhat serious. “But I come here a lot. I come here to think.”
I nodded, scanning the horizon. Taking in the beauty and serenity of everything.
“I can see why. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
Luke nodded sheepishly.
“So what do you think about?”
He set down his fork. His coffee too.
“You, mostly.”
I would’ve pretended to blush, only I was actually blushing. I let out a nervous chuckle. “No, really.”
“Don’t believe me?” He turned to face the lake. “Look around, Kayla. The best times of my whole life have taken place at this lake. All those days we spent swimming, talking, laughing.” He paused, sliding his fingers over mine. “And all those summer nights, too. Nights you and I spent together. Nights I spent inside you…”
Our eyes met, and those blue-grey orbs swirled with a whole flood of emotion. Luke was staring down at me strangely. His expression had gone serious.
“Kayla, I come here all the time because we came here. Because it reminds me of us.”
Looking at him, I could feel my throat constricting. My eyes glazing over.
“I came here so much,” he said, “I finally went ahead and bought this special spot. Then I built this place with my own two hands, so I’d always have it.”
A rush of shock