by Jenn Sable
“That was fast,” she said and laughed.
Chloe shrugged helplessly when I glanced over at her, and I took a steadying breath.
“Sammie, what are you doing?” I asked as I watched her pick up a few pairs of my underwear and stick them back into a drawer and pull out different ones.
Sammie held up a red pair of silky panties that I had packed. They had lace trim around the hips and a cut meant to impress. “Winnie’s resting in a hospital, not a brothel. Don’t you think something more utilitarian is in order, like cotton? Why are you packing undergarments like you’re going on a honeymoon?”
Because now, silky panties make me think of Troy Witmer, and I like the way thoughts of him make my stomach flutter. “Why don’t you let me pack my own underwear, thanks. And while you’re at it, you can stop with the luggage inspection.”
Sammie shrugged and dropped the panties back into my suitcase. “Fine. I just wanted to make sure that you have everything you need.”
“I do. Now back away from my luggage,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Why was Troy Witmer here earlier?” asked Rose, laying across my bed.
My heart stuttered, and my mouth went dry, making it difficult to swallow. How did they find out? Did they hear something about Chloe and me at the diner? Shit, I knew we shouldn't have gone there.
“Yes, why did he stop by? We saw him turn in when we were heading over to the lodge for brunch,” said Abby as she rummaged through my jewelry box and started trying on necklaces.
Oh, that explains it.
All eyes, including Chloe’s amused ones, turned toward me. Caught off guard and momentarily not sure how to answer their question, my cheeks heated under their gazes. Sammie’s eyes narrowed. Abandoning her snoop session through the rest of my packed items, she perched herself on the edge of my reading chair and looked at me expectantly.
“Someone moved into the Armor Estate and overheard the girls and me this morning. They called in a noise complaint.”
The explanation seemed good enough for the twins, but Sammie kept curiously eying me. “Interesting. Was that all?” Sammie asked, and quickly glanced at Chloe, and her eyes narrowed even more.
“Yup. That's it. We both had a good chuckle over it and clearly Abby needs to bake something so we can hand it over it as a peace offering.”
I gave a perfectly reasonable response, and for the most part I think it worked. “Okay, I don’t have time to chat. I have lots to do, and you ladies have a plane to catch to Elys Island,” I said, changing the subject. I was able to push my sisters back downstairs and to the door ten minutes later, but there was a noticeable change in Sammie’s attitude.
At the front door, Sammie turned toward me. “You know Troy and I are just friends, right?”
“Considering that you’re married to Owen Brocker, I’d hope so,” I laughed. Where was this comment coming from?
“I mean, Troy considers me to be his friend, I just wanted to make sure that you knew that. Troy is a wonderful man with a big heart, but nothing ever came to pass between us, even before Owen,” said Sammie, looking intently at me.
“Right, I think I knew that. Not sure why we're talking about it now, but thanks for the confirmation,” I said.
It was both a blessing and a curse to have a super perspective big sister. Couple that with one who straddled the line between sibling and parental figure and you had Sammie. Based on her strange comments alone, she sensed that something had happened between Troy and me and wished that I’d talk with her about it. I wished for the millionth time that she and Owen would start a family so that she could focus some of her superhuman motherly instincts toward an actual child and not me.
Sammie pulled me into a tight hug. “Remember, you can call me day or night, no matter if you’re here or in Paris. I can be in Paris in a matter of hours, or I can send a plane to come to pick you if you need a break. You’re working too hard, Eloise, and I don’t think this stress is good for you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. She hated it when I called her that.
Sammie slapped me high on my backside. Hard.
“Ouch! You whacked me on my flipping tailbone, you beast!” I cried, trying to squirm free from Sammie’s hold, but she was much stronger than she looked.
“While I’m at it, send me a picture of your birthmark before I get the twins to hold you down and I take one myself!” threatened Sammie.
“I love how you’ve effectively turned the twins into your henchmen. And for your information, I tried sending you a photo.”
Sammie released me instantly and tilted her head to the side and gave me a questioning look. “I never received a photo from you.”
I internally cursed at myself for opening my big mouth. “I’ll send it to you tonight,” I promised.
“Pull out your phone. If you took a photo of it already, then send it to me right now.”
“I have to go pack. Chloe’s upstairs doing all the packing. I’ll send the photo later,” I said, lamely.
Sammie narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
Flustered, I pulled out my phone and shuffled through my applications and clicked on my photo gallery and instantly regretted it. The first photo in the collection was the one Troy had snapped earlier that morning while adding an image to his contact information. Sammie gasped and snatched the cell out of my hand.
“You have a picture of a very flirty Troy Witmer in your phone!” she screeched.
I gripped Sammie’s wrist, pulled her back inside the foyer, and slammed the front door shut on the slacked jawed twins standing on the front porch. “Jesus, Sammie! Give me back my phone, you snoop!”
Sammie ignored me; instead, she clicked on my birthmark photo and texted it to herself before handing me back the phone. “That’s a very cute photo of Troy you’ve got there, El. I see the framed picture of Mom and Dad dancing on the wall behind him so that means he was standing in the kitchen. Probably this morning.”
“Good job, Detective Samantha. Troy snapped it earlier this morning because I didn’t have one for his contact,” I said, crossing my arms.
I hated how I felt as though I owed Sammie an explanation for the things that I did or did not do in life. Whatever was happening or developing between Troy and me felt particularly raw and sensitive to Sammie’s inspection.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” asked Sammie, arching a brow and trying to hold back a smile.
“Not really, Sammie. I want to get upstairs and pack for Paris.”
“You can’t expect me to see a picture of Troy, which is clearly a selfie that he took while giving you a sexy little smile, and think I won’t have questions,” she said, looking at me as though I’d lost my mind.
“Actually, that's exactly what I expect because there's nothing to report beyond what you already know. Troy stopped by this morning to check out the noise complaint and then realized I didn't have a photo for his contact in my phone. And there you have it. Story over,” I said emphatically.
Sammie kicked her hip to one side. “Sounds like it's just beginning,” she said, brows raised and a smug smile firmly in place.
I shook my head. “No, I don't think so. I don’t even know if I believe in the love stuff. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It works for some people, but not everyone, not me. This is Troy we're talking about hereー”
“I'll be damned though, Owen was right,” said Sammie, totally disregarding what I was saying and tapping her pointer finger to her lip as if she were contemplating how she was going to repay a lost bet.
“Wait. What? What was Owen right about?” I asked, curious.
“I was teasing Owen one night about Troy because when they first met, it wasn't exactly friendship at first sight. Troy thought Owen might've had something to do with the fire at the inn,” said Sammie.
“I remember. I thought Troy was going to come out of his skin when he heard that Owen was spending the night at the inn,” I said, laughing at the memory
from a couple of years ago when Sammie and Owen had first met.
“Yeah, well. I teased Owen about how he folded Troy right into the Brocker pack even after he thought Troy was interested in me. Troy’s more of Owen’s and his brother’s friend now than he is mine! But Owen told me that Troy was definitely interested in an Evans' girl, just not me. And it wasn’t one of the twins either if you get my drift.”
“Huh? Why would Owen think that?” I asked, my heart started being faster, and I hated how excited I was becoming.
“Owen said he noticed that Troy would find a way to walk outside whenever you were in the garden. Plus, anytime you'd walk by while they were playing poker, Troy kept his eyes glued to you. But Owen knew Troy's feelings were building because every time you'd fly to Paris, Troy wanted to know that you'd arrived safely and when you were coming back,” said Sammie, playfully pressing a hand to her heart.
I felt warm and fuzzy inside, and I hoped that my face didn't give away the fact that Sammie’s words made me feel I was hovering just above the earth in a state of blissful disbelief. “He’s a concerned family friend and has been for years. He was just being thoughtful,” I said, but even I was starting to have my doubts.
“Oh, please. The twins went to Greece and Troy was like peace out chickies and had no idea when they returned. He only pays attention to your travel plans, he only asks questions about you, and he only makes it a point to walk by the garden when you’re in it. The man has a thing for you, enjoy it, revel in it. What the hell, El? Troy is ridiculously handsome, and you’re ridiculously sad and lonely, live a little and have some fun, Miss Love’s Not For Me.”
The twins started pounding on the front door. “What the hell is going on in there? Open up this door!”
I looked at Sammie and she shrugged. “I’ll handle those two. We’ve got a flight to catch to Elys Island, and you’ve got to pack for your trip to Paris. You might want to leave a little extra room in your luggage in case you find some fancy French lingerie. You never know when that might come in handy,” said Sammie and winked at me.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that curled my lips. Sammie moved to the door and was just about to unlock it when I called out, “Sammie, you’re not going to tell anyone about this, are you? This is just between us, right?”
Sammie’s eyes twinkled. “And what exactly am I not telling anyone, El? That you apparently don’t believe in love yet are smiling like someone who does? Who would I tell that to? Troy?”
AFTER MY SISTER'S LEFT, it hadn't taken Chloe and me long to finish packing. By sunset, I had the inn to myself. I walked through the big, quiet rooms on the first floor that have been set aside for the teahouse. I should have been contemplating more furniture deliveries, product drop-offs, and refining our marketing strategy in order to adjust for a delayed opening. Instead, I trailed my fingers over the smooth surfaces of tea tables and thought about Troy Witmer.
He'd crossed my mind a hundred times that afternoon, and it amazed me with everything that happened that I still somehow couldn't think two consecutive thoughts without the image of Troy flashing behind my eyelids. Memories of him standing in the kitchen and the phantom touch of his hand on my back and his fingers through my hair haunted me.
I pushed away images from this morning and walked into my office. Although I only had a few phone calls to make, I still had to respond to some emails and update some spreadsheets. Pulling my hair into a messy bun, I slid behind my desk chair and started working through my to-do list—relief was always the reward after crossing a few things off.
Once I’d sent the emails sent, updated spreadsheets, and organized my desk, I dragged my luggage to sit beside the front door. I really should sit down and pen a want ad for help with the teahouse so that it’s ready to go the second I return since the spoiled look-alikes would be vacationing with Sammie until the end of June. Once I’m back from Paris, I’ll need to get some help in this place, stat. Hmm, I think ad writing might pair well with a glass of wine.
Stretching and rubbing a sore spot on my lower back, I glanced at my phone and saw that I had a text message. I clicked on my messages and stopped breathing when I saw that Troy had texted me earlier while I was working.
Troy: Hey, just checking in to see if you wanted to text with me accidentally tonight.
Troy: Oh, yeah. I took the liberty to edit my name in your phone. State Trooper seemed a little too impersonal for someone who has seen you in your underwear, don’t you think? *laughing emoji*
Me: I don’t have any other birthmarks, just so you know.
My heart leaped into my throat when I saw that he’d seen the message almost immediately and started to respond. I held my breath the entire time he typed.
Troy: Haha, I was thinking that maybe we could just text? You know, I type a sentence, then you do. I say something funny then you laugh and send me a flirty face emoji like this *flirty face emoji*
Me: Haha *flirty face emoji*
Troy: See it’s working already!
Me: I’m surprised you use emojis.
Troy: Yeah. You’re probably the only person outside of my sister that I use them with.
Me: Haha, oh yeah? Why?
Troy: You’re a young whippersnapper, so I wanted to make sure that you understood the intent behind my messages. These little smiley faces seem to help with that.
Me: What’s your intent?
Troy: I don’t know? To try and make you smile.
Troy: Is it working?
Me: A little bit.
Troy: I’ll try harder. How about I text you tonight after I’m done with my shift?
Me: Okay.
Me: Troy.
Troy: Yeah?
Me: It feels a little strange to be texting with you.
Tory: Strange in a good way or in a bad way?
I took a deep breath.
Me: In a good way. A little awkward, but good.
Troy: Good. Same here, in a strange, awkward, but really good way.
Troy: I’ll text you later.
I caught a glimpse of myself in a wall mirror, and I had the biggest, goofiest grin on my face. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and my head felt like it was shooting rays of sunshine out the top. Girl, stop it. This is embarrassing. He’s just a boy; Troy ultimately, is just a boy. Remember that and don’t get carried away. Relationships are a no-fly zone. Teasing, flirty texts are okay; actual feelings are absolutely not. Love is just a chemical reaction that wears off quickly.
I walked into the kitchen and pulled my favorite bottle of Pinot out of the wine fridge. It felt incredible to pop a cork on a bottle of wine and relax into the waiting arms of the evening. I pulled my favorite wine glass down from the cabinet that had Goddess scrawled across the middle, a gift from Rose when she and Abby went to Greece last summer.
Smiling, I took my goddess wine goblet and climbed the steps to my bedroom in order to peel off my outfit from the day and slip into something more comfortable. I looked around my room at my plundered closet and ended up digging into the bottom drawer of my dresser to pull out a soft cotton peach dress that I hadn’t worn in years.
The dress clung to my curves, and was an inch or two shorter than what I would wear in public. It’s material was soft, and the flared skirt showed off my hips. I hadn't worn it in so long that I'd actually forgotten about it. I slid it down over my shoulders and allowed the fabric to wrap around my middle and sway over my thighs.
Humbled that against all the odds, I was being gifted a quiet, private evening at the inn before facing the new mountain of challenges that waited for me in Paris, I allowed myself to sink into the present moment and just enjoy it. I reached for my goblet of wine and took a small sip, savoring the way the tart taste exploded on my taste buds.
Walking back downstairs, I passed by my office and headed straight for the front porch. I pushed open the door and stepped out into the night. It felt amazing as the cool air swirled around my skin, flowed up the bottom of my dress
, and caressed my thighs. I sat on the step and looked out across the front lawn to the tree line and thick patch of woods that sat just beyond and buffered the inn from Preacher Road.
The moon was almost full; a few fluffy clouds drifted underneath the glowing orb and made the beautiful sky look positively romantic. The stars speckled the sky in a brilliant, haphazard array, bright little embers of light on the black blanket of the universe. I took a long slow, deep breath, trying to inhale the moment and commit it to my memory.
Leaning back, I propped myself up on my elbows, allowing my legs to splay down the front porch steps. I sipped at my wine, allowing my head to fall back and loll from side to side, enjoying the feel of how my long hair gathered on the porch floor like pools of fabric from long curtains.
Although it was dark, the forest was alive with sound. I could hear the night owls and smiled thinking about how our inn used to be a bird-watching haven before Sammie transitioned those guests to Brocker Lodge. I looked down over the quiet lawn and allowed my imagination to start to play. I pictured long, wooden tables lit with candlelight for a midnight tea party under a full moon. I chuckled and tried to imagine who from Frost Forest would join me for a midnight tea party. But the image was nice; it filled my heart with hope and stirred my imagination.
I pushed off the front porch and walked around to the side and found myself reaching for the box of long matchsticks from the potting shed. One by one, I started lighting the small candles inside our eclectic collection of various sized lanterns posted along the garden paths and around the porch. I marveled at how a few lit lanterns could transform the place from a bulking shadow that sat at the bottom of Frost Mountain and turned it into a welcoming gathering post that twinkled with light at the mouth of the forest.
I heard tires over the gravel drive, it was late, and my heart started racing with curiosity. I knew it wasn't my sisters. They'd boarded their flight hours ago for Ely's Island. I rounded the corner of the house and heard a vehicle, as soon as I saw Maxwell Palmer's white BMW park in front of the inn, my stomach soured. I didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed that he was alone, but it was late, and he was unannounced. But guys like Max weren't concerned about other people's boundaries.