Honeymoon Phase By Amy Daws Read Free Chapter 16

Addison

Luke’s cabin is nice. Ten times nicer than my place. Nicer than any single male deserves honestly.

It’s a modern, cozy mountain chalet vibe with rustic natural wood touches all over. The main floor is an open layout with the kitchen and dining area on the right when you walk in and a sunken living area on the left. The walls on either side of the stone fireplace are framed with freshly chopped wood stacked all the way up to the ceiling, confirming what Luke said about staying warm in the winter.

Natural light pours in the front windows that provide stunning views of the mountainside and the small community of Jamestown down below. I went to the Mercantile once with Luke years ago now but haven’t been back since. I imagine we’ll be going more often now that we’re living together.

God, that’s so weird to say.

I’m moving in with Luke. I’ve never had a roommate in my whole life. I lived with my dad until I was twenty years old and went straight from his place to my one-bedroom apartment that I still have today. Hopefully living with my dad prepared me at least somewhat for this situation I’m walking into.

Off the kitchen and living area is a short hallway with two bedrooms directly across from each other and a bathroom at the end of the hall. Luckily, Luke’s room has its own attached bath, so the hallway will be all mine. I know we’re friends and everything and apparently now husband and wife, but sharing a bathroom with Luke Fletcher was certainly not on my bingo card this year. I’m not ready to see his mustache whiskers in the sink or worry about him walking in after I’ve pooped.

Come to think of it, I’m going to start pooping at the lumberyard. I can hold it until then and it will be best for our friendship to keep that side of me a mystery. There’s really only so much those toilet sprays can disguise.

I glance around my bedroom, which is starting to look semidecent now. The queen bed already had bedding, but I threw one of my fuzzy blankets on top, then stuffed the closet to within an inch of its life and filled the small dresser in here with my unmentionables. Luke’s brothers helped haul all my stuff inside, but they put the boxes marked bedroom into Luke’s room so we had to move them across the hall after they left.

Acting like Luke’s real wife for the next year is going to be a serious challenge. I’m starting to see how this will benefit Luke though, which, as his best friend, I’m totally on board for. Who knows how they’ll react in twelve months once we’re done. Perhaps he’ll play the broken heart card, and they’ll leave him be for a while after.

At least we’re both clear on our opposition to marriage.

Marriage . . . a real marriage . . . is just never something I want in life. I’ve been this way since I was a teenager. I like control too much. I like to make my own decisions. I don’t want to factor another person into my day, which is why this whole marriage clause in the family trust is so damn ironic.

Not to mention my parents’ marriage was never one to admire, so if there’s even a remote chance I could turn out like them . . . hard pass.

But acting like Luke’s wife won’t be that hard. Really a wife is just a friend, and Luke and I do the friendship thing pretty well, so it’ll be fine. As long as I don’t have to kiss him in front of everyone, we’ll manage.

I lick my lips as that kiss from the clerk’s office rushes to the forefront of my mind. The way his hands squeezed at my waist, I swear to God I can still feel him pressed—

“How’s it going in here?” Luke asks, yanking me out of my traitorous thoughts as he stands in my doorway, looking around the bedroom.

His hand is hanging from the top of the frame and the casual lean of his body is making those dirty thoughts I was just having feel really hard to push away. “Um . . . I’m good. I think I’m pretty much done in here and ready to move into the kitchen.”

“Perfect. Trista just dropped off some food for us if you’re hungry.”

“She did?” I ask, my stomach instantly rumbling at that mention.

“Yeah, come on.” He taps my doorframe and continues down the hall toward the kitchen.

I blow out a long breath, calming myself before I emerge, pausing in front of his bedroom door and taking in his large king bed. It’s covered in a soft gray comforter and perfectly made. I wonder if Luke made that because I was coming over or if he’s a wake-up-and-make-your-bed kind of guy. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. And he’ll find out I’m a never-make-my-bed kind of girl.

I make my way out into the kitchen just as Luke dishes up something that looks like a pasta dish into a couple of bowls. I sit down at the kitchen island beside him and salivate when I smell pesto.

“God, I’m starving.”

“Me too and I haven’t been working nearly as hard as you have.”

We both go to town on some yummy bow tie noodles and while we eat, my eyes wander around his kitchen with envy for the tenth time since I got here today. I’ve been in Luke’s house before but this is the first time I’ve been in it and looked at it as mine . . . for the next year at least.

He has a full chef’s-style kitchen with black cabinets, white marble countertops and light wood accents throughout. We’re seated at the island that holds three brown leather barstools, but my eyes zero in on the most important part . . . a double oven.

Let me say that one more time . . .

A double oven.

I am officially aroused.

“Where should I put my KitchenAid mixer?” I ask, scooping another bite into my mouth.

“Oh, actually . . . I think I have a cupboard for that.” Luke stands and moves around the island to the lower unit cupboard by the sink and my eyes go wide when he opens it.

“Does that thing pop up?”

“Yep. I think it’s literally meant for one of those things. There’s an outlet inside too.”

“Oh my God!” I exclaim excitedly. “Why did you install one of those if you don’t even bake?”

“The cabinets in here were yanked out of a remodel we did ages ago,” he says, turning to lean on the counter as he splays his hands out wide looking positively indecent with that mustache, backward hat, and bare feet. “The marble countertops are recycled too. I designed the kitchen around the castoffs from that house because they were still in pretty good shape and I was on a limited budget.”

“Holy shit, this whole kitchen is recycled?” I gape at the appliances that still look nice. “Who on earth would gut my dream kitchen?”

“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.

“I had a dog as a kid,” I croak, my voice quiet.

“What was its name?” Luke asks, adding more tortilla shreds to the bowl.

“Backpack.” I swallow down the tightness in my throat.

“Backpack.” Luke laughs and looks up at me. “How’d you come up with that?”

My cheeks flush with anxiety as I answer, “My little brother named him.”

Luke loses all humor on his face as he holds my gaze for a long, quiet moment. He knows my brother died in a car accident years ago, but that’s the extent of what he knows and honestly, it’s more than most people know. I told him about it one night because he asked, and there’s something about Luke that really makes me not want to hide from him.

I slide down off the couch and sit crisscross, reaching out to run my hand over Rufus’s tall tail. “Aaron had just started kindergarten, so he was pretty into backpacks I guess.”

Luke chuckles but that sympathy in his eyes is still there, holding me without touching me. “It’s a cool name for a dog.”

“Yeah . . .” I feel a pressure in my chest build as I say the next part. “He died in the car accident too.”

Silence grows between us, and I look up to make sure Luke heard me. He did. His eyes are intent on me as he lets me process the words I just shared.

“I’m sorry, Roe,” he says softly, abandoning his bowl and reaching out to lay his hand on top of mine.

“Me too.” I feel my eyes burn with incoming tears. “We buried my brother with Backpack’s collar.”

“I’m sure they found each other on the other side,” Luke says, his voice full of comfort.

I shoot him a watery smile. Luke always feels like comfort to me, which is unfair because he has the loss of his dad to work through as well. He doesn’t talk about his dad much either. Or maybe he does but just not to me. I wouldn’t blame him after the way I behaved during that time in his life.

I guess both of us have some death traumas we’re still unpacking in our own ways. Maybe we never will unpack them fully. Maybe death is just something you have to learn to carry with you all the time and you can never truly unload the sadness of it.

He eyes me with arched brows. “Fact or fiction. Aaron was a little stud.”

“Oh, that’s a fact,” I reply with a garbled laugh, grateful for the levity. I turn to face Luke, my hands gesticulating with pride because I never talk about my brother, and it feels good. “He would make me approve all his outfits before school every day and would take ages gelling his hair. He missed the bus so many times because he was in the bathroom primping.”

“Really?” Luke laughs and the crinkles in his eyes give me butterflies. “I’m sure your dad loved that.”

“It made him crazy. Said he couldn’t wait until I got my license so I could drive Aaron to school.” My voice drops at the end as I realize Aaron didn’t live long enough for that to happen.

God, life is such a fucking bitch.

Rufus bocks, ripping me out of my quiet turmoil. “Ugh, I feel like I’ve aged a decade this past week.” I groan and stretch my legs out and wiggle my toes. “So many big life changes. Marriage, moving, wedding planning.”

Luke watches me thoughtfully for a moment before replying, “And don’t forget about the lumberjack competition.”

“How could I forget that?” I smile and reach out to touch his chin. “Your chin is looking way better.”

He reaches up to trace the same area, our fingers brushing as I pull my hand away. “I hope I have a cool battle scar as a keepsake.”

“You certainly surprised the hell out of me that day.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Just wait till you see me next year.”

“You’re going to do it again?”

“Fuck yeah I am,” Luke chirps, his eyes narrowing with determination. “I need to put that Ivan fucker in his place.”

I giggle and cover my face, not sure why I like the idea of Luke being jealous of Ivan so much. It’s not a normal reaction a friend has with another friend, but it still feels good. I like knowing he cares.

Luke looks up at me, the crinkles around his eyes deepening as he smiles. “I know it’s only day one . . . but I like having you here.”

I tilt my head and look around the room, taking in the warm, cozy feel. “I think I’m going to like it here.” We’re silent for a moment before I add, “But there is no way in hell I’m joining that Fletcher family carpool spreadsheet you texted me.”

“What?”

“You guys leave for Boulder every day at six thirty in the morning!”

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s a no from me.”

Luke hops up from the floor and wipes his hands off on his jeans, Rufus squawking at the quick change of position. “Wyatt is going to be pissed at you.”

“Why?”

“Because Fletcher Mountain is an eco-friendly peak. Did you peep the solar panels when you got here? You’re increasing our carbon footprint and he is not going to be pleased.”

“Well, you’re my husband,” I snap up at him.

“Yeah . . . and?”

“And you should stick up for me like I did for you today with your mom,” I exclaim, glowering up at him with all the rage I can muster when deep down I friggin’ love this kid.

Luke watches me for a moment, a strange look in his eyes that I can’t quite read. He takes a beat and lowers himself down onto the sofa so he’s no longer towering over me. “That was really cool what you did for my mom today, by the way.”

“It was nothing.” I reply, looking away so I don’t say out loud, I didn’t do it for her. I did it for you.

“No, it was something.” He makes a noise in the back of his throat and adds, “I fucked up and you saved the day and made her really happy. Thank you for doing that.”

I offer him a weak smile. “I’m going to need help planning this dang wedding anyways.”

He chuckles softly. “Yeah, your dad knew exactly what he was doing with that request.”

“He’s evil.” I growl, my hands balling up into fists. “But at least we’ll have a couple months to get used to faking this marriage thing so by the time I have to walk down the aisle to you in a puffy white dress, we can make it look halfway convincing.”

Luke’s eyes tighten ever so slightly before he nods and bends over to pick up Rufus. “I’m going to put this guy back outside and then probably crash. Back to the real world tomorrow.”

“Ugh, work. I hate Mondays.” I reach my hand out for Luke to help me up and as he does, in one fluid motion, I pull him in for a big bear hug, squeezing his waist and burying my face in his chest. Rufus clucks loudly at my sudden close proximity and I think I feel the peck of his beak in my hair.

“What’s this for?” Luke asks as he wraps his free arm around me and rests his chin on my head.

I squeeze tighter and inhale his scent of sandalwood and lavender. It’s rugged and soft. Just like Luke. “Thank you just isn’t enough.”

I pull away and his hand lingers on my back, his eyes warm on mine as he looks down at me. “Sleep well, wife.”

That label has my contented smile growing. “Good night, husband.”

And the two of us part ways to head to our separate bedrooms for some much-needed space to wrap our brains around what the next year of our life is going to look like.

Lord help us.