“You didn’t have to—” Noah started, but Luke was already moving past him into the house, close enough that Noah caught the scent of soap and something woodsy. Not his usual mix of sawdust and sweat from working all day.
“Wanted to.” Luke handed him the bottle. “Though I have to admit, it feels weird walking in here without my tools.”
It seemed both of them were on the same page about thisnotbeing work-related. Noah’s shoulders relaxed, grateful he didn’t need to call Luke over with a flimsy excuse about helping with the work while Eli was gone.
The image of Luke’s tool belt riding low on his hips flashed through Noah’s mind. He turned quickly toward the kitchen, hoping Luke couldn’t see the heat he felt rising in his face. “I imagine it’s weird not having Eli grilling you about what you’re doing every ten seconds.”
“Yeah.” Luke’s laugh held a note of tension. “It’s almost too quiet in here without him.”
Too quiet. Every small sound seemed amplified—the clink of plates as Noah pulled them from cabinets, the subtle shift of floorboards under their feet, the way their breathing seemed too loud in the charged space.
“Need help with anything?” Luke asked, shoving up his sleeves. The gesture shouldn’t have been distracting—Noah had seen him do it countless times while working. But something about the deliberate way he adjusted the fabric, revealing strong forearms, made Noah’s mouth go dry.
“Everything’s ready,” Noah managed, turning back to the counter. “Though you could open the wine.”
Luke moved around the kitchen with familiar ease, locating glasses and the corkscrew like he belonged there. Like this was something they did regularly, sharing wine and quiet conversation while dinner cooled on the counter. The domesticity of it should have terrified Noah. Instead, it filled his chest with warmth.
“So,” Luke said, pouring them each a generous glass, “this is different.”
Noah accepted his wine, their fingers brushing. Electricity sparked between them, and Noah nearly dropped the glass. It seemed they were finally going to address the elephant in the room. Noah was grateful Luke had broached the subject first. “Different good or different weird?”
“Both?” Luke’s laugh held self-deprecation. “I mean, usually by now, I’m covered in plaster dust, and you’re reminding Eli not to use his map as a placemat.”
“I miss him,” Noah admitted, settling into his usual chair. “But it’s probably good Jenna took him for a few days. Gives us time to deal with the worst of the damage without him trying to help.”
Luke’s expression softened. “He’s a good kid. Smart too. Some of his observations about the house’s quirks are actually useful.”
“He thinks you’re some kind of superhero.” The words slipped out before Noah could stop them. “The way you explain things, make him feel included… It means a lot.”
Something complicated crossed Luke’s features. He took a long sip of wine before responding. “He makes it easy. Most kids thatage just want to play with the tools. But Eli actually listens, you know? Asks good questions.”
“Like his disaster map?” Noah couldn’t help smiling at the memory of Eli’s detailed documentation.
“Hey, that map is a work of art.” Luke’s mock offense made them both laugh, easing some of the tension. “Though I must admit, his theory about ghost pirates hiding treasure in the walls might be a stretch.”
They fell into comfortable conversation over dinner, discussing everything except the repairs still needed or the growing attraction between them. Luke praised the food, their hands brushing as Noah passed him the bowl of carrots. Each small touch sent sparks across Noah’s skin, making it harder to maintain any pretense that this was just a friendly dinner.
“This is driving me crazy,” Luke said suddenly, setting down his fork. “All of it. The house falling apart around us, trying to pretend I’m not—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should go somewhere else. Somewhere fresh.”
Noah’s pulse jumped. “What did you have in mind?”
“My place?” Luke’s voice held careful neutrality. “I could show you the projects I’m working on. Might help you visualize some of the restoration options.”
They both knew this wasn’t about restoration options. This was about escape, about finding neutral ground where they couldn’t hide behind professional distance or parental responsibilities. Where they’d have to face whatever was growing between them.
“Okay,” Noah heard himself say. “Let me just clean up?—”
“Leave it.” Luke stood, the movement bringing him closer than strictly necessary. “I promise the world won’t collapse if you don’t do the dishes immediately.”
Noah looked up, finding Luke watching him with an intensity that made his breath catch. The air between them felt charged, like the moment before lightning strikes. Like that night in the attic when everything had shifted.
“Yeah,” Noah said softly. Hedidprefer to clean up as soon as they were done eating, but he knew he was stalling. “You’re probably right.”
Luke’s smile reached his eyes this time, warming them to honey-gold in the kitchen’s soft light. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
As they headed for the door, Noah caught a glimpse of their reflection in the window—two figures moving in sync, drawn together like opposite poles of a magnet.
“This is where the magic happens,”Luke said, but his usual easy confidence held a note of vulnerability. “Where I come when I need to think. Or not think, depending on the day.”
