The Book Club Sleepover

Luke stood in the doorway of the Cherry Blossom Bookshop, staring at the book Sophie had just thrust into his hands.

​

"Why does the captain on this cover have his shirt off during what appears to be a Category 5 hurricane?" he asked.

 

Sophie, who was arranging sleeping bags in the romance section with manic enthusiasm, beamed at him. "That's our book club pick. Hot Harbor Captain."

​

Luke turned it over and read the back cover, then he flipped to a random page. His eyebrows climbed steadily higher. "There's a scene here involving ship rigging that violates several maritime safety regulations. Possibly some laws of physics too."

​

"Welcome to the world of fictional romance, darling, " Sophie said as she fluffed pillows with aggressive cheerfulness, "where the laws of physics are mere suggestions and captains are always devastatingly handsome with improbable stamina. "

 

“I have stamina, " Luke muttered, "but I can’t do the things he's doing to that woman while suspended from ship rigging in the middle of a storm. I'd die."

 

'Well, Captain Drake in Hot Harbor Captain manages just fine."

 

Luke peered up at her. "Seriously, Soph, please don't tell me this is your book club choice for tonight."

 

She finally stopped fussing with the pillows and turned to face him. "It's a Kindle number one bestseller, Luke. I thought it'd be fun to kick off my book club sleepovers with a very relevant maritime book like this. This kind of quirky event gets people talking."

 

"People talking," Luke repeated slowly, "about a romance novel where the hero apparently has sex while suspended from ship rigging during a storm." He flipped more pages and started reading a passage aloud, his deadpan delivery making Sophie giggle. "'His sun-bronzed skin glistened with sea spray as he commanded his vessel through treacherous waters, his mind on nothing but the beautiful stowaway he had discovered in his cabin that morning…'" Luke peered up at Sophie, his blue eyes amused. "If I found a stowaway, I'd call the coast guard. Not contemplate their…" he squinted at the page, "heaving bosom. Jesus. "

 

"Liar. You absolutely love a heaving bosom. "

 

Luke set the book down on the counter, his eyes darkening in that way that made Sophie's stomach flip. "Is that right?"

 

"Mmm-hmm." Sophie tried to keep her tone light, but her breath hitched as Luke crossed the space between them in two strides.

 

"I definitely love your heaving bosom," he murmured, backing her up against a bookshelf. His hands slid to her waist, his thumbs brushing just beneath the edge of her cardigan. "In fact, I'd say I'm an expert on the subject."

 

"Luke, people will be here soon—" Sophie's protest died as he kissed her, slow and thorough, the kind of kiss that made her forget they were standing in the middle of her bookshop with sleeping bags scattered everywhere.

 

When he pulled back, his gaze dropped deliberately to her chest, then back to her face. "See? Very appreciative."

 

"I have to admit, you are very appreciative and attentive to my—" Sophie's words cut off as Luke's mouth found her neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against her skin. Her hands fisted in his flannel shirt.

 

"Attentive to your what?" he murmured against her throat, one hand sliding higher, cupping her breast through her cardigan and the thin shirt beneath. His thumb brushed across her nipple and Sophie gasped. "Your heaving bosom?"

 

"Not fair," she managed. “We’re going to have to stop soon as people are arriving. You're getting me all worked up."

 

"Life's not fair, Bennett." Luke lifted her easily, settling her on the edge of the counter. Sophie wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Luke's mouth returned to hers as his hands worked open the buttons of her cardigan, pushing it off her shoulders.

 

"Much better view," he said, his voice rough as he looked down at her. The thin shirt she wore underneath left very little to the imagination as her nipples hardened.

 

"Captain Drake's got nothing on the real thing," Sophie murmured. "I'm going to throw that book in the lake," she added breathlessly. “The real captain is much better."

 

Luke's hands slid under her shirt, warm and sure, and Sophie arched into his touch. "Don't. Right now I'm finding it very educational."

 

"Educational," Sophie repeated, then lost her train of thought entirely as Luke's thumbs found her nipples through her bra, circling slowly.

 

"Very." His mouth was at her ear now. "Though I think I need more hands-on research."

 

Sophie's response was cut off as his hands slid around to unhook her bra, and she forgot about Captain Drake entirely—

Then the bookshop door chimed.

 

They froze.

 

"Oh for god’s sake," Grace's voice rang out, her pink-tipped hair catching the early evening light. Behind her, the lake glimmered a fiery orange as the late summer sun set over it. "Seriously? I'm gone for twenty minutes to and you two are defiling the counter!"

 

Luke dropped his forehead against Sophie's shoulder with a groan. Sophie couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry, her shirt rucked up, her cardigan half off, her bra definitely unhooked.

 

"We weren't defiling it," Sophie said, trying to sound dignified while scrambling to re-hook her bra and pull her cardigan back on. "We were... discussing the book."

 

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Grace asked, very deliberately looking at the ceiling as Sophie battled with her bra strap.

 

Luke stepped back to let Sophie slide off the counter, his face slightly flushed, and she immediately missed the warmth of him.

 

"Your timing is impeccable as always, Grace," Luke said.

 

"Someone has to keep you two from traumatising the romance section." Grace set down the bag she was carrying. "Besides, my mom will be here in five minutes, and she has very strong opinions about appropriate bookshop behavior."

 

Sophie smoothed down her cardigan, trying to look like she hadn't just been thoroughly compromised on her own counter.

 

"Right. Yes. The book club. That's definitely happening."

 

"Uh-huh." Grace was absolutely smirking. "Might want to fix your shirt, Soph. You look like you've been in a Category 5 hurricane like Captain Drake."

 

Luke coughed to hide a laugh as Grace picked the book up. "Does this guy even know how knots work?" Grace asked, flipping to another page. "Because you can't tie a... Jesus Christ, I forgot about this scene."

 

Sophie bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh. "Is it the bowline scene?"

 

"There's a bowline scene?" Luke asked.

 

"Chapter seven,” Sophie said.

​

"This book is a liability lawsuit waiting to happen." But even as Luke said that, Sophie could see the corner of his mouth twitching.

 

The bookshop door chimed again and Ray walked in with a huge box of his food truck grub. He then took one look at the book in Grace’s hands and immediately turned around.

 

"Oh no you don't," Sophie called after him. "You’re staying! You supplied the food."

 

"Ray promised that before he knew you'd chosen a book that makes Fifty Shades of Gray look like Jane Austen," Luke said.

 

Ray took the book from Grace’s hand and flipped through it. "You sure you gonna cope with listening to your Mom reading passages out loud about–" He flipped to a random page and shook his head.  "Nope. Not saying that out loud. There are words here I didn't know could be used in that context." He looked up at Luke. "This is going to be painful."

 

The door chimed again and Grace's Mom, Mabel, swept in, carrying what appeared to be enough snacks to sustain a small army through a lengthy siege. Jake followed behind her, lugging a massive cooler.

 

"We brought provisions!" Mabel announced. "We've got cheese, crackers, those little sausage things you like, Grace darling, and three different kinds of wine because I couldn't decide."

 

"This is a book club, not a bacchanal, Mom!" Grace said.

 

"Why can't it be both?" Mabel asked as Sophie helped her unpack the snacks at the counter that Luke had built, the one Sophie still got slightly emotional about every time she looked at it.

 

"I guess we are going to need liquid courage for some of these chapters, " Grace said.

 

"Oh, we definitely are,” Sophie added. "Chapter fourteen alone…" She fanned herself dramatically.

 

Jake set down the cooler and looked at the novel. "Wait, is this the book everyone's been talking about? The one with the boat captain?" He picked it up, flipping through the pages.

 

"That would be Captain Drake," Sophie said, still trying to discreetly fix her bra situation. "Maritime safety violator extraordinaire."

 

Jake read a passage, his eyebrows climbing. Then he flipped to another page and smiled. "Huh. Can I borrow this when you're done? For research purposes."

 

"Research?" Luke asked flatly.

 

"Yeah, man. Clearly I've been doing boats wrong this whole time." Jake was already folding down the corner of a page. "This bit here about the rope work—"

 

"Jake Martinez, you absolute heathen!" Ella's voice cut through the bookshop as she swept in, arms full of blankets. "Are you folding pages in a brand new book?"

 

Jake looked down at the paperback, then at Ella, completely unbothered. "Yeah? How else am I supposed to remember the good parts?"

 

Ella's eyes went wide with horror. She dropped the blankets and marched over, snatching the book from his hands like he'd just committed a crime. "There are such things as bookmarks, Jake," she said. "They've existed for literally thousands of years."

 

"Folding's faster."

 

"Folding is barbaric." Ella smoothed out the crumpled corner with the reverence of someone handling a historical artifact. "This poor book. It's brand new. Look at this pristine spine." She shot Jake a look that could curdle milk.

 

"It's a mass-market paperback about a horny sea captain," Jake said. "I don't think it needs the museum treatment."

 

"All books deserve respect, especially mass-market ones as it means lots of people love them." Ella clutched the novel to her chest protectively. "Sophie, please show him your bookmark collection. Before this barbarian destroys the entire book club selection."

 

Sophie bit back a laugh. "I have bookmarks. Lots of bookmarks. Custom Cherry Blossom Bookshop ones, actually."

 

"Thank God." Ella handed the book back to Jake like she was passing off something fragile. "Use. A. Bookmark."

 

"Fine, fine." Jake said. “Show me what you’ve got,” he asked Sophie.

 

Sophie grinned and gestured to her bookmark display with a flourish. "I may have gotten slightly carried away." She held up a translucent bookmark to the light. "Vellum with layered cherry blossom petals. See how they look like they're falling?"

 

"That's lovely," Mabel said.

 

Sophie spread more across the counter—wooden laser-cut ones, acrylic with floating petals, fabric embroidered ones. "And these fold out into little letters from me, Luke helped me make them. Different versions, so they're collectible."

 

"Collectible bookmarks," Jake said slowly. "You've invented collectible bookmarks."

 

"I've created a diverse product range!"

 

"She's gone mad with power," Grace said, grinning. "Even roping Captain Grumpy into making them."

 

Jake laughed. "Dude!" he said to his friend.

​

"Yeah, I know," Luke muttered. "How did my life become this?"

​

"You fell in love with a woman who opened a bookshop," Grace said. "This is what you signed up for."

​

Luke pulled Sophie close and leaned down to kiss her neck. "I guess I did."

​

More people started to file in and Sophie clutched the book to her chest as she watched them get themselves settled. The sleeping bags formed little nests of colour across the wide plank floors Luke had helped her revarnish. Caleb and Mikell constructed a pillow fort near the graphic novels, their heads poking out like they were children at camp. Grace claimed the window seat, her pink hair complementing the sage green cushions, feet tucked under her as she sipped wine. Abbey and Ella sat cross-legged near the local history section, while the knitting circle gathered in the kid’s reading area.

 

"This is actually happening," Sophie whispered to Luke. She thought about how three months ago, she'd been terrified about the bookshop’s grand opening, convinced something would go catastrophically wrong. Now she was orchestrating a co-ed sleepover book club featuring maritime erotica like it was the most natural thing in the world.

 

Luke watched her, face softening. "You really love this," he said.

 

Sophie turned to him, her face bright. "I really do. Is that weird? That I'm this excited about the fact the entire town is discussing a romance novel because of me?”

 

"Completely weird," Luke confirmed, but his voice was soft. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, let his hand linger at her jaw for just a moment. "But that's kind of your thing."

 

"My thing is being weird?"

 

"Your thing is making weird ideas work." He glanced around the bookshop—at the sleeping bags, the fairy lights, the romance section that had somehow become the heart of Solace Springs' social life. "A few months ago, I found you in that lake out there." Luke's thumb brushed her cheekbone. "And now look at you. Hosting sleepovers. Getting Mabel to read smut aloud. Terrorising Jake with bookmark etiquette."

 

"That was Ella."

 

"You played your part."

 

Sophie laughed, leaning into his touch. "Are you saying I've corrupted Solace Springs?"

 

"I'm saying you've made it better." The words came out quieter than he meant them to, more honest. "The town feels... I don't know. Even more alive.”

 

"Luke Rhodes, that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me, and you've said some pretty romantic things."

 

"Don't tell anyone,” he whispered to her, his lips at her ear. “I have a reputation."

 

"Your reputation is already destroyed. You're about to serve wine while readers discuss fictional abs."

 

"Damn,” he said with a sigh, "don't remind me."

 

Over the next hour, the bookshop filled with more people, and Luke retreated further toward the refreshment table, grateful for the excuse to stay out of the main circle. Ray made a sharp exit, and Jake followed to join Luke at the refreshments. From their position by the drinks, they had a clear view of the entire bookshop. The book club participants had settled into their sleeping bags and chairs, books in hand, wine glasses at the ready.

 

"You can leave, you know," Luke said to his best friend.

 

"Hell no," Jake said. "I'm here for moral support and free food. Also, this is the most entertainment I've had in months."

 

"Right!" Sophie clapped her hands together. "Who wants to start us off? I'm thinking we go chapter by chapter and discuss our favourite parts."

 

"I'll start," Margaret announced, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "Chapter one. Now, I thought Captain Drake's introduction was very well done, though I will say Abe's shoulders were much broader when he was in the Navy—"

 

"Margaret," one of the knitting circle women interrupted, giggling, "we're supposed to discuss the book, not rank our husbands."

 

"Why can't we do both?" Margaret asked innocently.

 

Ella piped up from where she was setting up her sleeping bag, her phone already out. "This is definitely going in my next podcast episode. 'Small Town Book Clubs: A Cultural Anthropology Study.'"

 

"Perfect," Luke muttered to Jake. "Now it's being recorded for posterity."

 

"Could be worse," Jake said. "Could be livestreamed."

 

"Don't give them ideas."

 

Just then, the door chimed. It was Ethan from the lighthouse. He often popped in once a week to see what new books had

arrived. As he peered in now and took one look at the sleeping bags, the wine, and the paperback copies of Hot Harbor Captain scattered around the room, his eyes went wide.

 

"Nope," he said, backing away slowly and shaking his head, his light brown wavy hair lifting. "Whatever this is, I'm out."

 

"Ethan!" Jake called. "Come on bud, we have extra sleeping bags!"

 

"I'm good,” Ethan said quietly. “Really good. So good I'm going to be literally anywhere else." He practically sprinted back out.

 

"Your loss!" Mabel called after him. "Chapter nineteen is exceptional!"

 

Luke looked at Jake. "Smart man."

 

"Smarter than us, apparently."

 

Sophie noticed the way Ella watched Ethan disappear, looking slightly disappointed.

 

"Since everyone's being shy, I'll continue," Margaret said. "Chapter one does an excellent job establishing the romantic tension. Though I must say, the captain's navigational decisions seem questionable at best—"

 

"Margaret, he's steering toward the storm to save the heroine," Mabel corrected.

 

"Exactly. Questionable."

 

"That's not questionable, that's romantic!" Sophie said.

 

"It's romantically questionable," Mikkel offered from his pillow fort.

 

"Can we talk about his abs yet?" Caleb asked. "Because the description in chapter two—"

 

Luke grabbed the wine bottle and made his rounds, determinedly not making eye contact with anyone as the discussion grew more animated.

​

"This is already out of control," Grace said as he refilled her glass.

 

"Out of control is the point," Sophie said happily from her sleeping bag. "This is community, this is connection."

 

"This is me questioning how I ended up serving wine while people discuss fictional abs," Luke muttered.

 

Sophie grinned up at him. "Because you love me."

 

“And you love me,” Caleb said, kissing Mikkel. “Hence why you’re here too.”

 

"Ask me again after chapter fourteen,” Mikkel said.

 

"The rigging scene?" Luke asked.

 

"I'm trying not to think about the rigging scene,” Mikkel said with a shake of his head.

 

"Chapter fourteen," Mabel announced cheerfully, clearly having heard them. "We'll get there soon enough, boys. You might want to open another bottle of wine first."

 

"Chapter fourteen is an important one for me,” Caleb said in mock seriousness. “I have questions about the structural integrity of that mast. Also about the captain's core strength.”

 

Luke and Jake exchanged a look.

 

"You're getting paid for this, right?" Jake asked.

 

"In Ray’s food truck food and emotional trauma, apparently," Luke replied.

 

From across the room, Abby's mother, Victoria's, voice rang out. "Well, I certainly hope Captain Drake knows more about navigation than he seems to know about proper attire. Really, the man is shirtless in every other scene."

 

"That's because it's a romance novel, Victoria," Sophie said patiently. "The shirts are legally required to come off."

 

"Victoria, dear, if you're going to critique Captain Drake's wardrobe choices, at least wait until we get to discussing chapter three,” Mabel said with a sigh. “We're still establishing character motivation."

 

"Is that true with romances like this?" Ella asked, already making notes. "Is there an actual romance novel regulation about shirt removal frequency?"

 

"There should be," Caleb said. "Someone call the governing body. We need official guidelines."

 

Mabel started reading out passages, performing every line with theatrical flair that would have made Shakespeare weep. Victoria was providing running commentary on the fashion choices. And Margaret kept comparing Captain Drake unfavourably to Abe, which everyone found both disturbing and adorable.

 

"I still think the rigging scene is physically impossible, " Luke said when they reached chapter fourteen. He was now lying on his sleeping bag next to Sophie, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him.

 

"That's because you're thinking like an actual sailor, " Sophie said. "You need to think like a romance novel sailor. They're basically superheroes with boats."

 

"Romance novel sailors also apparently never get rope burn," Jake added from his position at the counter, the book open before him. "Or hypothermia. Or arrested for public indecency."

 

"You're missing the point, boys," Sophie said, refilling Grace’s wine glass. "It's not about realism. It's about the fantasy. The escape. The idea that someone could be so overwhelmed with desire that they would risk life and limb for one kiss. "

 

"Like Luke risked hypothermia fishing your bag out of the lake the day you met?" Grace asked her.

 

“Exactly that!” Sophie said, kissing Luke on the lips.

 

As everyone discussed the book, Sophie leaned against Luke and took it all in. The bookshop had transformed into something magical as the night deepened. Outside, the last cricket songs of summer mingled with the gentle lap of water against the dock. Inside, the glow from the fairy lights caught on the spines of books, making the whole space feel like it was lit by candlelight.

 

Sophie breathed in deep. There was coffee brewing in the corner, the rich dark roast she'd special ordered from a roaster in Seattle. Someone had made popcorn too, the buttery scent mixing with the lingering sweetness of Margaret's brownies and the faint vanilla-lavender candle Caleb had insisted on lighting ("For ambiance, darling"). The old boathouse smelled like comfort and community, like every good bookshop should.

 

Through the windows, the lake was black velvet scattered with stars now the sun had set. The cherry trees that had been in full bloom when Sophie arrived were now heavy with dark summer leaves, rustling softly in the breeze. Soon those leaves would turn gold and red, then fall, leaving bare branches to frame the winter lake. But tonight, summer was still holding on by its fingertips.

 

Sophie studied the people around her as they discussed the book. This. This was what she'd dreamed of when she'd seen that first listing photo of the boathouse. Not the ramshackle exterior or the rotting dock boards, but this feeling. People gathered not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Because there was nowhere else they'd rather be on a Saturday night than sprawled across a bookshop floor, arguing about fictional sailors and eating too many snacks.

 

Luke's hand found hers in the dim light, squeezing once. When she glanced at him, he was looking around too, taking it all in. The man who'd pulled her from the lake that first morning, grumpy and sceptical, was now lying on a sleeping bag in her bookshop, voluntarily participating in a romance novel discussion group.

 

"You did this," he murmured, just for her. "You made this happen."

 

Sophie leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing in cedar and lake water and home. Through the windows, she could see the lights of the town reflected on the dark water. Her town now, her lake and her people. This was it. This was what she had been missing in London. Not just community, but this specific, ridiculous, wonderful community. People who would show up to a bookshop sleepover and read spicy romance novels aloud and argue about maritime safety regulations with the same seriousness they would bring to an actual town meeting. Sophie realised in that moment that she'd never been quite this happy in her entire life.

 

By the time they finished discussing the book at midnight, everyone slightly drunk, Sophie stifled a yawn.

 

"Okay," she said. "Before we all pass out, we need to vote on next month's book."

 

"Please tell me it's something normal," Luke said. "Like a thriller. Or a biography. Anything without rigging-based acrobatics."

 

Jake leaned back and reached for a book, muscles flexing, from the romance section. "How about Hot Ski Instructor: A Spicy Alpine Romance? "

 

"Oh absolutely," Caleb said, "purely for the chalet aesthetic. Think of the themed snacks. Fondue! Schnapps! Mikkel in a turtleneck!"

 

Luke groaned. "You're all trying to kill me."

 

As everyone started settling into their sleeping bags, the bookshop lights dimmed to a soft glow from the fairy lights. Jake was already snoring gently in the mystery section. Caleb and Mikkel were whispering to each other in their sleeping bags. Mabel was lecturing Grace about proper sleeping bag arrangement.

 

Luke pulled Sophie closer, her back to his chest, his arm draped over her waist. "This is actually fun," he murmured into her hair, "but I kinda miss having you all to myself at night. Come outside with me for a minute?"

 

She turned to look at him. His blue eyes were soft in the fairy lights, and he nodded toward the door. Carefully, they extracted themselves from their sleeping bag. Luke grabbed a blanket from the pile Ella had brought, and they picked their way over sleeping bodies. Grace cracked one eye open as they passed, smiled knowingly, and closed it again.

 

The late summer air was cooler now, carrying the promise of autumn. Luke spread the blanket on the dock and they settled down, Sophie tucking herself against his side as they looked out over the lake. The water was dark and still, reflecting the stars overhead.

 

"Three months since I opened the bookshop," Sophie said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "Hard to believe it's only been three months."

 

"Feels longer," Luke said, his arm around her shoulders. "In a good way."

 

Sophie smiled. "The dying days of summer. Everything's about to change again, isn't it? Autumn crowds, then winter quiet."

 

"Yeah." Luke's hand found hers, their fingers lacing together. "You nervous about your first cold months here? The lake freezes sometimes.”

 

"I hear I need to prepare for the town to basically hibernate."

 

"We don't hibernate. We just... slow down." He pulled her closer. "But the bookshop will keep people coming. Especially if you keep doing insane things like tonight."

 

Sophie laughed. "You mean building community through literature?"

 

"I mean convincing most of the town to have a sleepover and discuss maritime erotica."

 

"You enjoyed it."

 

"Maybe I did." His voice was warm, and Sophie could feel him smiling. "Or maybe I tolerated it. For you."

 

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the moonlight on the water. Sophie thought about everything that had changed since that morning she'd fallen in the lake… literally fallen into this new life. The bookshop. The town. Luke.

 

"I love it here," she said quietly. "I know I've only been here since spring, but... I love it. Even the ridiculous parts. Especially the ridiculous parts."

 

Luke pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Good. Because you're stuck with us now. Mabel's already planning next month's book club. Victoria's telling people you're 'quite the entrepreneur.'" His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "This is your home now, Sophie. For both of us."

 

"Yeah," she whispered. "It is."

 

She leaned up and kissed him, soft and slow, tasting summer's end and everything coming after. When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his.

 

From inside the bookshop, someone—probably Jake—let out a particularly loud snore. They both laughed.

 

"Should probably get back in there before Mabel wakes and comes looking for us," Sophie said.

 

"Probably." But neither of them moved, content to sit a moment longer on the dock, watching the lake and the stars, summer fading into autumn, together.

 

Finally, Luke stood and pulled Sophie to her feet. They folded the blanket, hand in hand, and made their way back into the warm glow of the bookshop, stepping carefully over sleeping bodies, back to their spot in the romance section.

 

As Sophie settled back into Luke's arms, surrounded by books and friends and fairy lights, she thought about that letter from her mum, the one that had gotten soaked the day she arrived. Find your home, darling. Find your people.

 

She'd found both.

 

And she was never letting go.