Page 29 of Marry Me Tomorrow
Did Trent almost kiss me? Why did I want him to so badly? My heart hammers as I grab my keys and phone then follow Trent out the door into the cool evening air. The scent of pine and earth fills my lungs, and I try to keep my thoughts from spiraling.
“I don’t think I know where your house is,” I say, quickening my steps to catch up to him.
“Not too far. I walk to work, but when I had it built, I set it a little out of the way so people wouldn’t come knocking on my door anytime they had a question.” His voice is light as he leads the way back toward the marina lodge. The fading light casts long shadows, giving the quiet marina an almost ethereal glow.
“You built it? I thought your parents lived there before and just moved away.”
“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “They wanted a little more work-life separation and built a house on the other side of the lake. They’d just drive the boat into work each morning.”
“That’s cool,” I reply. The quiet companionship between us feels natural as we walk past the docks, the marina shop, and the gazebo. The occasional chirp of crickets fills the silence, the lake’s water gently lapping in the distance. When we reach a path veiled with a dense tree line, Trent motions to it with a nod.
“I’ve never noticed this path before,” I say, peering into the woods. “How’d you keep it so hidden?”
“I didn’t even out the entrance where it meets the woods, but as soon as you pass the tree line, the path is clear. It’s not the only way in, though. There’s a driveway that leads to the main road, but it’s long, and I mostly use it for deliveries.”
“So that’s why you keep your truck at the marina,” I say.
“Yeah, pretty much,” he says with a chuckle, stepping out of the way for me to see. “Here it is now.”
The path opens to a clearing, and my breath catches at the sight of his home. A covered wraparound porch surrounds an adorable two-story log cabin. The golden light spilling from the windows makes the wood glow. To the right, the faint outline of the lake glimmers in the last vestiges of sunlight. The scene is idyllic, straight out of a postcard.
“Come on,” he says, motioning me forward. “I’ll give you the tour.” I follow him to the porch. The wood creaks faintly underfoot, and I catch a hint of cedar mixed with the earthy scent of the woods.
Inside, I’m floored by the beauty of the space. The downstairs is open-concept, with a massive living room flowing seamlessly into a chef’s dream kitchen and a cozy dining area. The downstairs is simply designed. It’s definitely got a rustic feel. I make my way around the space, taking in everything. Large windows line the walls, and I’m drawn to one immediately. Outside, the moon’s reflection dances on the water, casting silvery light across the lake.
“Of course, your house would overlook the lake,” I say, shaking my head with a smile. Glancing down, I spot a fire pit and a dock just visible in the moonlight. Adirondack chairs complete the picturesque scene.
“It’s a gorgeous setup,” I add.
“Thanks,” Trent says, standing a little straighter. He tugs his hat off and runs a hand through his hair, the gesture endearing. “The porch wraps around the whole house. You’ll notice exterior doors on three of the walls.”
“I bet it’s breathtaking in the mornings,” I say. “You have a really nice place.”
“Uh, thanks,” he replies, his ears turning pink. “It’s, uh, soon to be yours too. Do whatever you like with the place.”
Right. “How about you show me the bedrooms?” I suggest. “Or, I guess, the upstairs?”
“Sure, follow me.” As we ascend the staircase, my fingers trail along the smooth, polished wood of the handrail. It’s clear he’s poured his heart into every detail of this house.
At the top of the stairs, Trent gestures to the open space. “This is the loft. It overlooks the living room.” I turn and see the sweeping view below, the glow from the kitchen casting soft light across the rustic space.
“To the left is my room,” Trent says, “but we don’t need to head that way. At the back is an all-purpose room. Kind of an office-slash-catch-all space. I haven’t done much with it yet. We just finished building the place last spring.”
“That’s pretty recent,” I say, following him to the back room. When I step inside, my breath catches. The wall-to-floor windows frame the lake, now bathed in moonlight. The scene is stunning—peaceful yet alive with subtle movement.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, imagining lazy mornings curled up with a book in this very spot.
“Thank you,” Trent replies, shrugging. “I kind of like the lake.”
His understatement makes me laugh. “Yeah, that wasn’t hard to figure out, even before seeing your house.”
“Ready for the rest of the tour?” he asks, his blue eyes glinting with amusement.
“Absolutely. This place has three bedrooms?”
“Yeah,” he says. “The master bedroom and two guest rooms. You can pick between the two. The smaller one overlooks the lake, and the other faces the woods. The bathroom is in the middle, but it’s all yours. Sorry, the rooms don’t have their own bathroom.”
“Trent, that’s more than fine,” I assure him. I step into each room. Both have stunning views.
