by Olivia Miles
His gaze narrowed ever so slightly and she had the sinking feeling that one of her teeth was blacked out with fudge.
“Sorry to startle you.” His grin flashed as he righted the pan on the counter beside him.
She swallowed again, set the milk down and took a steadying breath. “This is…a surprise!” A big one, and one she’d stopped wishing for many years ago.
They stood awkwardly for a moment, as if unsure if they should hug, each leaning in and then leaning back, and oh…the burn! Her cheeks were positively on fire.
Finally, Matt crammed his hands into his pockets, putting that weird little dance to an end. “Hope you don’t mind me coming back here into the kitchen like this, but I was chatting with Robbie, and Britt said you were in the kitchen and, well. I wanted to say hello.”
He wanted to say hello. Calm yourself, Amelia. It wasn’t like he wanted to propose marriage. He just wanted to say hello.
“Hello,” she said, giving a small smile.
“Hello.” His eyes gleamed, and the word hung there between them, the silence far too obvious. She’d assumed she’d never see Matt again. He was a thing of her past. But now he was standing in her kitchen. Saying hello.
She pulled in a breath and blinked quickly. She tried to think of something conversational, when what she wanted to ask was why now? Why hadn’t he returned sooner?
“Are you in town for the weekend?”
“A bit longer, actually,” he said. “I’m staying with Jackson.”
Of course. Matt had always been close with his cousins, and Robbie’s older brother was a bachelor with a big house on the edge of town.
She opened her mouth to ask just how much “longer” meant but had the sense to stop herself. Really, it shouldn’t matter to her. They didn’t mean anything to each other anymore.
Except, by the flutter in her stomach, she wasn’t so sure that was exactly true.
“I’m heading over to the pub,” he said, referring to the one that Jackson managed in his parents’ inn over on Main Street. She idly wondered if this was an invitation, or if she was reading into things. “But I couldn’t stop by without saying hello.”
Hello. Again. They shared a smile. Nope, this wasn’t awkward. Not in the slightest.
“I’m glad you did. How have you been?”
He nodded. “Good. Really good. And it looks like you could say the same!”
She nodded, feeling proud of her accomplishments, of this kitchen. But the one thing she’d wanted, more than to have her mother see all of it, was for Matt to have been a part of it all.
A timer went off then, signaling that the last fish dish was ready, and she cursed to herself, knowing that it couldn’t wait, not unless she planned to serve blackened fish, and she did not.
She reached for an oven mitt, but Matt backed away. “I can see you’re busy. But…maybe we can catch up soon, while I’m in town?”
“I’d like that,” she said, even though she wasn’t so sure that she should. After all, the man had left town and never called, never written. Just disappeared really.
“So, I’ll see you,” he said, inching back toward the door.
She nodded, not wanting to say anything more in case her teeth were still coated in chocolate, not able to say anything more because she still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. She’d never been one for spontaneity or thinking quickly on her feet. She liked to plan, strategize, and prepare.
But she never could have prepared for this.
He paused as he pushed at the door, and said, “It was really nice seeing you again, Amelia.”
She sucked in a breath, not daring to say anything because this time she really didn’t trust herself not to blurt out how freaking fantastic it was to see him. That he looked better than she remembered, and she’d tried so hard not to remember, even leaving his photos behind in her old room at her father’s house when she’d moved out years ago. She’d tried to move on, just as he had done.
She smiled and turned off the oven. She watched through the corner of her eye as he went back through the door, and then watched through the window pass as he went back out onto the patio.
Candy caught her stare and gave an exaggerated cheer with her hands, even though she couldn’t have known who Matt was or what he had ever meant to her.
Matt Bradford was back in town. Amelia turned from the pass to hide her smile and enjoy the thrill that was building up inside her chest.
Maybe this summer would bring her a second chance before it was over after all.
2
Maddie was waiting for Amelia outside the house they shared the next morning, before the sun had even poked through the clouds in the sky. It was a small shingled house, in the heart of Blue Harbor and walking distance to the café, and the draw of it had been the rental unit on the first floor, along with the big deck off Amelia’s kitchen and the stairs that led down to a patch of grass that had become a garden full of herbs and vegetables she used on the seasonal menu.
Maddie moving in hadn’t been part of the plan, per se, but it was certainly a perk. Amelia had always felt protective of her baby sister, and being able to give her a place to live (at a discounted rate, not that she’d let Maddie know this) was peace of mind, and one less thing to worry about. So much of her life had been consumed with worry‒from the time that their mother was first diagnosed to now, when she was already fretting over the winter months and hoping she wouldn’t meet the same fate as the stationery store, even though rationally she knew that she had a core group of year-round locals who would never let that happen.
Amelia supposed that she didn’t need to worry so much about their father now that Candy was in his life. Still, she dropped off healthy food several times a week, even though she knew that Candy loved to cook up “comfort” food for Denny. That woman loved nothing more than a stick of butter.
Well, maybe Dennis Conway, Amelia thought, with a little smile. Really, she was happy for her father. She just wasn’t exactly sure of her place anymore.
“So…” Maddie gave her a suggestive look as they began the short walk to the café. “Matt Bradford is back in town.”
“So it seems,” Amelia sighed, but she couldn’t keep her tone casual. She’d replayed the scene in the kitchen all night long, and fought with herself from going over to the pub at the Carriage Inn after she flicked the lights in the café, telling herself that would be too eager.
Besides, she didn’t even need to know how long he was in town for. There was no sense in falling for someone who was just passing through town, especially when she had no intentions of ever leaving it.
“Did you manage to talk to him?”
Amelia didn’t feel like getting her sister’s hopes up too high, which was bound to happen if Maddie knew that Matt had come into the kitchen, and so she just shrugged and said, “A bit. Briefly. We were so busy last night.”
“Well, I saw him with Britt and Robbie and I couldn’t help wondering if Britt knew about this ahead of time!”
Maddie was echoing her thoughts, and Amelia did remember that Britt wanted to speak to her about something. She could have been warned, if the night had gone differently. Could have avoided stuffing that brownie in her mouth.
Could have spent the entire night watching the door with her heart in her throat.
No, it was better this way. Brownie and all.
“He’s cute,” Maddie pointed out, giving her a mischievous grin.
Amelia shrugged and fished her keys from her canvas tote bag. “Always was. But he wasn’t just cute…he was…nice. Like Robbie.”
“Not like Jackson,” Maddie said, raising an eyebrow.
“Jackson’s nice,” Amelia said thoughtfully as she pulled open the door. “He’s just…not dating material.”
And he was entirely too old for Maddie, not that she’d shown any interest in Blue Harbor’s most eligible bachelor, now that Robbie and Britt were back together. Jackson was charming, and attractive—and he
knew it. He’d meet his match eventually, though.
Amelia sometimes wished she felt as certain about her own fate.
“Few men in this town are dating material,” Maddie pointed out, sounding disappointed at that fact. She flicked on the kitchen light and immediately pulled some chilled dough from the fridge, wasting no time in getting a start to the day. Mornings were always a busy time, with the regular coffee crowd looking for a quick breakfast before they went about their plans for the day. Today Amelia was making three different types of quiche, and Maddie would work up some cherry scones with the fruit from Conway Orchard, along with the cinnamon rolls that always sold out, much to many people’s dismay. Sure, Amelia could ask her to make more, but the demand was important. The urgency drove people here, early, and frequently.
“Well, it’s not exactly like Blue Harbor is hopping with single men. Other than tourists.” Who, like Matt, were just passing through town, Amelia reminded herself.
She grabbed a carton of fresh eggs from the top shelf, eager to put her hands to work and her mind on something other than Matt Bradford.
“Speaking of tourists,” Maddie set down the rolling pin and fished through her bag, finally holding up a folded piece of paper that she’d ripped from a magazine. She handed it over to Amelia, saying, “This is one of the biggest magazines in the Great Lakes. They’re taking entries for the top ten cafés in the region, and I think we should enter this year!”
Amelia skimmed the list of rules, which were simple enough, but would of course require some amount of time. A short essay. A signature recipe. And photos. And the deadline was next Friday.
“So? We can slip in at the last minute,” Maddie said when Amelia pointed it out. “The winner is announced two weeks from today!”
“It’s our busy season,” Amelia said, handing the clipping back to Maddie.
“It won’t be for much longer,” Maddie countered, as if Amelia needed the reminder. “And something like this could put us on the map. Drive in traffic from other areas. You know how cooped up people can be in these parts by January.”
“I’ll think about it,” Amelia finally said, and Maddie smiled as she pinned the article to the corkboard where Amelia kept recipe clippings and ingredient lists.
“And will you also think about getting out tonight with me?” Maddie asked.
Amelia added a splash of heavy cream to the eggs she had cracked and reached for the whisk. “And where were you thinking of going? Every place will be packed on a Friday night in August.”
“Exactly why we need to get out!” Maddie tutted as she went back to rolling out the dough for the quiche crusts. “You are thirty years old, Amelia. Do you really want to go home tonight and put on your Granny slippers—”
Amelia laughed out loud at the insult, but she couldn’t deny it wasn’t true. She loved those big, brown, overstuffed things, even if they weren’t exactly pretty.
“And watch reality shows about other people finding love? The man of your dreams is not going to come knocking on your door,” Maddie scolded.
“No, but he could come walking into my kitchen,” Amelia said, only half joking, because in a way that was exactly what had happened. Her heart sped up when she flashed back to that wonderful memory. Matt. Back in town. Wanting to say hello.
Maddie, who wasn’t aware of the details yet, just cocked an eyebrow at that. “As if. I mean it, Amelia. If you want to find someone to share your life with, you have to put yourself out there.”
“Oh, and is that what you intend to do, is it?”
Amelia rinsed the vegetables she planned to use for the day and brought the colander over to her cutting board.
“Well, I don’t intend to live in your rental unit for the rest of my life,” Maddie said.
No, and she probably didn’t intend to work here forever either. Maddie had a point, and a good one. Amelia was stuck in a rut. She did go home most nights, shower, put on her sweats or flannels, and curl up on the couch for a night of company with the television. The only thing at her side was the remote, a glass of wine, and leftovers from the café.
She just hadn’t seen much reason to get her hopes up and put herself out there much before.
But now Matt Bradford was in town. And even if nothing came of it, she supposed it would be more fun to go out with Maddie, see if they bumped into him, than sit home alone never knowing what might have happened if she’d tried.
*
It had been a long day and Matt was all too happy to settle into a barstool next to his cousin Robbie. The pub at the Carriage House Inn was crawling and Jackson was behind the bar, busy taking orders, pouring drinks, chatting with everyone he knew or didn’t know—Jackson had an easy way of doing that. Matt leaned back against his barstool and took in the space. His aunt and uncle had owned this inn for as long as he’d been alive, and little had changed in the twelve years since he’d left town. The floorboards were still dark to match the woodwork. The black Windsor chairs were a contrast to the creamy walls, and even though it was August, there was a fire burning in the hearth—and no one was complaining.
“Never thought I’d see the day you were working here, Jackson,” he remarked, when his cousin handed him a beer. He slid a glance at Robbie. “But then, I’m still trying to adjust to fact that you’re a father.”
Robbie laughed. “I’ve been a father for over seven years, Matt. And Jackson practically grew up in this building. It was his calling.”
Matt knew it was true. The pub in this particular inn was the heart of the town. The cuisine was comfort food, the lighting was dim and comfortable, and it was a place for locals as much as it was for patrons of the inn.
It was one of the more popular inns in town, thanks to the inviting and cozy atmosphere and well-established menu. It was busy year-round, he knew; safe from the winter slump that put other small businesses out of business over the years—including his father’s.
“Chef Tony still working here?” he asked, recalling the perfection of those French fries, and the spicy mayonnaise that always accompanied them.
“Of course!” Jackson said. “Not much changes around here.”
Matt went quiet as he sipped his beer. It was true. Not much had changed from what he had seen. The town was just as he’d remembered it being the first eighteen years of his life. Same inns lining Main Street, same small, family-owned grocery store on the corner. Same festivals advertised on posters. Same stunning waterfront view that was the reason that people returned summer after summer.
And why he was here in the first place.
“Where’s Britt this fine evening?” Jackson asked his brother.
“She’s coming soon,” Robbie said. “She was just waiting on her sisters.”
Matt sat a little straighter in his chair. When Robbie told him Keira was sleeping over at a friend’s house and invited him out for the night, he’d assumed it would just be the guys. Now, he wondered if Amelia might be coming along, and he had to admit, the thought of it was appealing. He’d always carried a soft spot for Amelia in his heart, even when the rest of his feelings for this town weren’t quite as fond.
He didn’t have to wait long for the answer. Robbie held up a hand and glanced over his shoulder, and Matt turned to see if the Conway sisters still traveled in a pack.
Jackson had been correct. Not much did change around here. Britt and Amelia were side by side, like they’d always been, so tight those two, and just behind them was the youngest sister—Maddie.
Cora wasn’t with them, not that he was surprised by this either. She was always the quiet one back when she was a kid.
Amelia caught his eye and smiled, a little shyly, perhaps, just as she had that first time he’d crossed the room at the annual Harvest Fest and asked her to dance, and only because Jackson was being a jerk and announced that if Matt didn’t ask Amelia to dance, he would, and Matt couldn’t stand for that. Jackson was a flirt. He wasn’t interested in Amelia, not really. But Matt was.
&n
bsp; Maybe, he thought, noticing the way her pretty mouth curved at the corners when she glanced at him, he still was.
The women made their over to the counter, and Robbie rose to greet them, giving Britt a kiss on the mouth that made Matt officially feel like he was in high school again. When he’d heard that not only had Robbie moved back to town, but Britt too, and that they were not only running her family’s orchard together but also a couple again, he could only stare at Jackson in disbelief, and accuse him of pulling his leg, because Jackson always did like to joke around.
But there was no joking to be had. Robbie had given up a good job in Boston, and Britt had turned down an opportunity in Chicago, and now they were making another go of things here, in Blue Harbor, where others had tried and not succeeded.
Matt pushed back the unease he always felt when he thought about his exit all those years ago, the bitterness that had stung him when he’d left with his parents and younger brother, packed into the family’s station wagon, knowing that his cousins got to stay behind, to continue on with their lives, just as planned. That his cousins’ parents had made a steady business, that they didn’t need to be uprooted and replanted in Minneapolis, where work was steady. He’d been mad at his father for not being able to turn things around at the antique store, and mad at his cousins for not suffering the same fate. He’d been mad all through his final months of high school, finishing it off somewhere that he didn’t know anyone and the cliques were already in place. It had been easier for his brother Gage, who was more eager for change and excitement.
And he’d vowed when he went to college that he would never let something like this happen again, not if he could help it. That he’d be successful. That he’d be secure. And that someday he would come back to Blue Harbor, not as the kid whose dad lost the business and had to leave everything behind, but as the man who had made something of himself, and who could hold his head high.
“Let’s move to a table,” he said to Amelia, motioning to a large corner table that was just opening up.