Something New

by Jenny Rabe

  He pulled into his driveway too fast and hit the rock his dad planted in front of the left side of the garage to remind Dean not to park there. He growled to himself. Who was he, a teenager? As he backed up a few obligatory feet, his phone rang with a call from his dad. He checked for a spy camera in the truck, but of course, there was none.

  “Yes, Dad?” he said in a singsong voice.

  “You’re home early? You didn’t park on my side of the garage, right?”

  Dean rolled his eyes, not caring that it was immature. His parents hadn’t lived at home in over a year. “How could I? Your precious Mustang’s parked there. If it’s so precious, why did you leave it behind?”

  His dad chuckled. “We’ve got enough cars here. How’s the fishing?”

  Dean shrugged and climbed out of the truck. “Pretty good. Lots of orders came in this morning, but I left early.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m calling. I knew you’d be anxious to see Emilie now that she’s home. Son, before you go greet her with open arms, listen. I heard some news the other day.”

  Dean climbed back into his seat and closed the door. “You and Mom don’t even live in this town anymore. How do you hear about anything?”

  “The deed is still in my name. We’re just…vacationing and visiting grandchildren, which by the way, would bring us back to visit you sooner.”

  “I have to find a girl first,” Dean said wryly. An image of Emilie popped into his mind. If things didn’t work out with her, he wasn’t sure what to do about his love life.

  “I heard a rumor Emilie’s not sticking around.”

  Dean stilled. When his dad didn’t follow up with any more information, he released his breath with a huff. “What are you talking about? She’s opening the dance studio and fixing up her house. Who would put that much work into a place just to resell it? She told me she’s staying.”

  “Get your head out of the clouds.” His dad’s voice took on a military sharpness. “Tons of people do that. Now, listen. I’ve got more to tell you. Have you heard the news about Finn?”

  “What about him?” he demanded, louder than he intended. Dean hated the guy. Once they had all been friends: he, Emilie, Ava, and Finn, but never again. Finn had crushed Emilie’s heart her senior year, dumping her to date Ava. The jerk had the worst timing. Her mom had died just a few days before the breakup. No, Finn wouldn’t get near Emilie again. “Tell me, Dad. What’s he done now?”

  His dad clucked his tongue. “Calm down. As long as you keep Emilie away from him, everything will be fine. I heard he got engaged.”

  Dean’s mood lifted. “He did? That’s great.” Now Finn would never tempt Emilie again. “So who’s he engaged to? Haven’t heard about him for a while. He and Ava split up again, but that was last year.”

  “No idea. My source only told me he was engaged, nothing else. I’m sure he’s heard Emilie’s back and will want to tell her.”

  If this made Emilie leave faster… Dean smacked the steering wheel. He needed to get to her before she met anyone in town. He exited his truck once again and headed inside.

  “Why would Finn tell her? Men don’t invite their ex-girlfriends to their wedding. Idiot!” he fumed over the phone.

  “I’ve heard about this topic many times. Just don’t let him hurt her. Let’s not have history repeat itself.”

  Dean jammed his keys in the lock, turned and then wrenched the door open. He clenched his jaw. “Couldn’t agree more, Dad. I’ll watch out for her.”

  3

  Emilie

  Instead of an outside breeze to cool Emilie’s flushed cheeks, a wall of heat crashed against her. She hurried to the jeep, keys dancing in her hands. As she unlocked and opened the car door, footsteps approached.

  Emilie whipped her head around, ready to turn away whoever had decided to disturb her. Dean! He couldn’t have come at a better time.

  “Dean Wright!” She took him all in. He hadn’t changed at a bit. Big blue eyes, wide smile, a mess of sandy-blond hair. His boyish looks had transformed from immature to handsome in only a few short years. “You’re here.”

  In one fluid motion, Dean’s long, strong arms snaked around her waist, bringing her close. She tensed, still overwhelmed by the immense roller coaster of emotions from earlier. A hug from him was expected, but since she hadn’t purposefully touched another person in weeks, the physical contact stunned her. When he didn’t let go right away, she tried backing out of his arms.

  In an instant, his arms dropped but his expression told her he hadn’t wanted to let go. “It’s all right.” The kindness in his voice reassured her and she voluntarily moved back into his arms. Dean held her in a firm yet gentle embrace. “Has the house upset you? We can go somewhere else.”

  His words brought a flood of relief, and she collapsed against him, returning his hug. Her cheek rested against his. Spicy aftershave and mint filled her nose. Despite the hot summer day, his skin was cold and calming.

  He pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “You look great. How are you doing? Have you seen anyone from school yet?” His voice was soft and cautious as he studied her face.

  She tilted her head. Did he really think her as breakable as a china doll? She forced a laugh. “I’m fine. And who would I see other than you and Miss Gail?” She looked down the street toward Gail’s house. “The last time I was here, she was out of town. She doesn’t even use her cell phone, the old hippie.”

  Dean chuckled and dropped his arms. “I’m sure she misses you.”

  Emilie stood back and fisted her hands on her waist. “I’d like to talk with Ava, too. It’s time to clear the air and tell her the truth about what happened with Mom.”

  His eyes darted to the ground and then back at her. “After what she did to you? She doesn’t deserve a chance to explain. What kind of friend steals boyfriends? Think about it, Emilie.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she’d had since middle school. “Maybe you’re right.” It had been a brief impulse, but one which had made her hope again. Wasn’t this the reason she came home? To move past everything? Didn’t that involve telling the truth to her former friends?

  Wanting to change the subject, she noted Dean’s choice of clothes. “In the dead of summer, you’re wearing a long-sleeved shirt.” She didn’t add that it matched his stunning blue eyes perfectly. “At least you have the decency to wear shorts, even if you’re not a sandal guy.” She pointed toward his socks and sneakers.

  He chuckled. “You criticizing the way I dress makes me feel like you’re really back for good.”

  If she told him her plans to go back to Boston, he’d try to make her stay. She fought back the temptation to reveal everything. The truth would come out in due time.

  She wiped her neck as a drop of sweat slid down her back. Danvers was cooler than most cities since it was closer to the bay, but it wasn’t even two o’clock, and the heat was already threatening to choke her as it wrapped around her throat. “It’s hot. Do you want to—” She stopped, not wanting to go back inside.

  “Should we get out of the sun?” he asked.

  She stared at her haunted house. Going back inside was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Dean gestured behind her where his truck was parked, sending another whiff of aftershave floating past her. “I thought living here again would be tough. Let’s unpack after your stomach is full of good local food.”

  His scent drew her in, wrapping around her senses, pulling her closer… She took a step closer then stilled as she forced herself to focus. “By local food, you mean Busy Bees, right?” She shifted from foot to foot as she waited for an answer. Yummy, greasy food would be the perfect distraction from her house worries.

  “You bet.” His mind reading had improved. “I guessed that would be where you’d want to go.”

  The warm look in his eyes caused an unwanted flutter in her stomach. Stupid, foolish attraction! This was not a permanent move, and she didn’t want to hurt Dean by
getting tangled up with him only to leave again.

  He held up his keys and shook them. “Let’s go in my truck. It will give you a chance to soak in everything without a car full of your past with you.”

  Annoyance pushed away any twinge of attraction she’d felt. Soaking in her hometown was the last thing she wanted. What she really needed was to go back in time and stop her mom from dying so everything would be in its rightful place.

  “Busy Bees, we’re coming at ya!” Dean sang as he headed to his truck, jiggling the keys at her. She followed a few steps behind, thanking him for opening her door. He’d always been the perfect gentlemen.

  When he joined her in the truck, his eyebrows pulled together. “No looking back, all right? Things are going to be better now that you’re home.”

  His cocky grin reminded her of their earlier years. How could she forget how slap-happy positive he was?

  “Your life is so easy. No wonder you’re always content.”

  For a second, his smile slipped and worry crinkled the corners of his eyes. He started the engine and headed down the road. “If you say so. It’s been a while since we’ve really talked.”

  To avoid staring at him, she fiddled with her seatbelt. She’d hit a nerve. All the years they’d known each other, their friendship mostly focused on her relationship issues. Had she neglected Dean in the process? Before she was able to muster an apology, his smile returned.

  “Life’s pretty good now that you’re back. Let’s focus on getting you casting again.”

  That was the old Dean she remembered. She slapped him on the arm playfully, not wanting to startle him as he drove. “Leave it up to you to tell a fishing joke. Sorry if that sounded rude. I’m sure you have your share of issues, too.”

  “It’s all right. I’ve got a backbone like a whale. Things will be tough for a while, but you’ve gone through worse. Plus, you’ll have me by your side.”

  Her thoughts twirled in circles, becoming more and more twisted. There was no taking back her decision to move to her childhood home, even if she wanted to. Now that she had no job, no apartment, and no other reason to return other than her desire to be anywhere else but Danvers, she couldn’t make herself do it.

  The drive was longer than she remembered, maybe because passing each and every spot held a painful memory. They drove by the pond where they had ice-skated together with the neighborhood children. When the high school came into view, Finn popped into her mind. “Wonder how he’s doing?” she muttered to herself.

  “Who?” Dean said. His eyebrows knit together. “I hope you’re not thinking about who I think you’re thinking about.”

  Emilie forced a smile. “Uh…I’m not.” She dropped the subject and rested her head against the window. She definitely was thinking about her ex. With no closure before she had fled Danvers, how could she not think about him? Everything was too familiar. Why hadn’t things changed more?

  When they left the city limits, she released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. They drove closer to the coast, and she turned her attention to the water. Deep blue and as sparkly as ever. It would probably only be a matter of time before he invited her on his fishing boat or asked her to spend a day with him at the beach.

  The old diner popped up in the distance, more like a trailer food stand with picnic tables set up in the gravel and dirt. The takeout diner made some of the yummiest burgers and sold the freshest fish caught by one of the best fishermen in town, who happened to be sitting next to her. Its claim to fame was not the meat, like most people said. Busy Bees specialized in making thin onion rings with so much flaky goodness that all other onion rings disappointed her.

  She couldn’t help but smile when Dean parked in the crowded lot in the back next to the Busy Bees sign. She climbed out and took a deep breath, loving the combined smells of salty breeze, fresh fish, and fried food. Other than seeing Dean, nothing else put her in a better mood like filling her taste buds with goodness.

  “Oh, I missed this,” she moaned when Dean joined her in front of the truck.

  He smiled. “I figured. Let’s get you loaded with grease.”

  Emilie’s stomach growled in response, the bowl of cereal she ate that morning long ago digested. They walked through rows of parked cars, her mind whirling the entire time. He kept a hand on her back, patting it occasionally. He probably wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. That gave her the courage to plaster a smile on her face when the owner came to the window.

  “Mrs. Fran, how are you?” Emilie stepped forward and tapped the counter with her fingers.

  Mrs. Fran’s face lit up, creasing with wrinkles. Her voice was softer than in previous years, reminding Emilie of the tiny tinkling of piano keys. “Why, Emilie, is it really you? I heard a rumor you’d be starting up the old dance studio again.”

  The sharp stab in her rib cage returned and doubled in size. Would she let the town down when she sold the studio and left again?

  Mrs. Fran left the window and came outside the little food trailer to give her a hug. “We’re proud of you, honey, Mr. Bill and me. We’re happy to see you move on to a new challenge.”

  Emilie gazed into Mrs. Fran’s eyes and treasured every word. Would everyone else think the same? Maybe her decision didn’t matter as long as the people closest to her supported her.

  She stepped back when Mrs. Fran gave her one last squeeze and hurried behind the counter once again to take their order. “Thanks for welcoming me back. I’ve been craving your food since I last ate it, and Dean suggested we come for lunch.”

  Mrs. Fran reached out and cupped Dean’s chin, sending a blush to his cheeks. “I miss seeing you two together. If you’re okay with it, today’s food is on the house.” After she waited for their agreement, she continued. “Catch of the day, onion rings, and a cherry limeade for you, Emilie, and Dean—you don’t have a regular. What will it be today?”

  Dean smiled broadly. “I’ll try that halibut I caught yesterday morning, if you still have any, and give me a lime rickey to drink.”

  She nodded. “I think I have a few left. Let me get that order ready.”

  Mrs. Fran gave them one last smile before disappearing to the back. Emilie sighed in happiness. The conversation with Mrs. Fran was the breath of fresh air she needed. Life would be uncomfortable for a while, but eventually, people would stop asking questions and get used to seeing her in town. She turned to head toward a picnic table... and caught her breath.

  Standing directly behind her in line was her ex-boyfriend, Finn Walter. Heart pounding, stomach knotting, all she could do was stare.

  What was he doing there? In the months they’d dated during their senior year, he’d refused to take her to Busy Bees, saying the food was too cheap and greasy.

  “Emilie, it’s really you, isn’t it?” Finn stepped forward with a familiar confidence.

  Instinctively, Emilie moved back, slamming against Dean’s chest. She barely registered his steady hands on the back of her arms as she stared at the man who broke her heart and her trust.

  Finn was handsome as ever, his thick brown hair perfectly in place, his black shirt and gray suit pants pressed. Even his eyebrows were pruned and neat. He smiled as he moved closer, sending an army of butterflies to her stomach.

  “You’re here.” His voice stirred the innocent flutters inside her into an angry uproar.

  “I’m here.” Her words came out as a whisper.

  This couldn’t be happening, but there he was, in all his handsome glory.

  4

  Dean

  Dean’s mind reeled as he watched Emilie’s eyes connect with Finn’s. His heart sank, no longer making the happy pitter-patter it had made since her arrival. Finn found her in record time. So much for him leaving her alone after becoming engaged.

  An idea grew. If Finn did what Dean thought he’d do, he and Emilie needed a backup plan.

  “Hey man.” Dean stretched out his hand to Finn.

  Ever the perfect guy, Finn wi
dened his smile, only tearing his gaze from Emilie for a second. “Good to see you. How’s the boat business going?”

  Dean rocked on his feet, waiting for Finn’s whole attention. He had plenty of time. After a few seconds, Finn turned to him expectantly. “What did you say?”

  Dean smirked. Guess his listening skills hadn’t improved. “I didn’t say anything. But to answer your question, it’s our busy season, so things are good. Hectic, you know.”

  Finn nodded, his eyes drinking in Emilie again. The hair on Dean’s arms stood on end, bristling along with the rest of him. An engaged man was flirting with his ex! He usually remained cool in most situations, but talking to this bonehead was an exception.

  “It’s good to see you again, Em. Danvers hasn’t been the same without you.”

  Her body froze against Dean’s. In any other circumstance, he would’ve loved the feeling.

  Dean cleared his throat, used to being ignored, but not liking it all the same. “What are you doing here? I thought you only ate at classier places?”

  Finn snickered. “Yeah, I usually do. I don’t know.”

  Angry heat rushed through Dean’s veins. “Let me guess. You heard Emilie was back in town, and you’ve been stalking this place for hours, knowing exactly where she wanted to go first.”

  Finn wiped at his neatly shaven face and turned his attention back to Emilie. “I did hear you’d be back today. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

  Emilie’s foot slipped on the gravel, and Dean held her arms to steady her. Her recovery was quick. “You wanted me to know what?”

  Shaking his head once, Dean hoped Finn would take the last chance to shut up and high-tail back to town.

  Finn didn’t take the hint. “I’m getting married in a few weeks.”