by Grace Palmer
“Who was kidnapped?” A female voice on the other end of the line surprised Stella.
“My mom,” Jace answered, quickly relaying the most basic facts of the story.
“Who was that?” Stella lowered her voice, though she didn’t know entirely why.
Jace hesitated to answer, and Stella could practically see his shy smile through the phone. “Madison.”
“Hi, Ms. Pierce!” the girl, who was apparently Madison, said. “I’m sorry you were kidnapped.”
“She’s fine.” Jace sounded flirtatious. Confident. He sounded like a version of himself Stella had never heard before, and she realized all at once that while she hadn’t dated at all while Jace was growing up, neither had he.
Not once.
He’d never brought a girl home or had a girlfriend. He’d gone to a few dances with friends, but it was never serious.
Was this serious?
She forgot all about her own issues and wanted to ask him a hundred questions and get to the bottom of this. She wanted to know who he was with and what she was like and if she made him happy. Was she nice? Did she drink or smoke? Did he drink or smoke? Where was she from? If they got married, would he move even further away?
“Are you dating someone?” Stella asked, hoping her voice was quiet enough Madison couldn’t hear.
“Let’s focus on your love life,” Jace said. Stella could hear Madison giggle in the background. “It sounds like this guy likes you a lot, and while I think you can be a little upset with him for lying to you, I think you should still go on this date tonight. What say you, Madison?”
“Agreed,” she said, her voice a bit louder like she was leaning towards the phone. “Make him feel really guilty so he buys you something nice, but definitely still go. He is the one who needs to be punished, not you. So, why should you skip the date?”
Stella let out a long, low whistle. “Jace, you should be careful about making this one mad. She is a smart cookie.”
“You’re telling me.”
Stella heard the chair squeal again, and she could tell by the lowering of Jace’s voice that he was trying to find a bit of privacy, probably pacing across his small room. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“You haven’t dated in a long time, and I know a lot of that is because of me.”
“No, no,” Stella rushed to say, trying to correct him. “It wasn’t about you. It was—”
“It was about me,” he said. “But that’s okay. You were a great mom, and I’m glad we had all of that time together just the two of us, but now it’s just you. I’ll visit on weekends and holidays and in the summers, but you like to take care of people. You like being needed. You also don’t like the unexpected.”
“You really do know me better than I know myself,” Stella said on a sigh.
“I’m very observant,” Jace said, sounding proud of himself before he grew somber again. “I’d hate for you to run away from something that could be great because you’re afraid of the unknown. From the little I know about the situation, it sounds like you like this town and this guy and the people you’ve met there. It’s the most excited I’ve heard you be in years. It might all fall apart tonight on a disastrous third date, but it also might be awesome. And if it is, I want you to promise me you’ll consider staying.”
Stella’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Staying? Like, moving here?”
“I don’t know. Moving or doing a long-distance thing for a while. Just something. Promise me you’ll consider something instead of just writing it off and walking away. Okay?”
The Willow Beach Inn appeared high on the hill as Stella climbed the gravel road. It was closer to a mansion than a house, but Stella had come to think of it as home in a way. She knew Georgia would be inside prepping breakfast for the next day or curled up with a book somewhere, eager to talk to her about all of the latest Sam developments. Stella knew she had a friend inside, and that was more than she could say about her actual home.
Without really realizing it, she’d fallen in love with Willow Beach. It could be an infatuation, she was willing to admit, but in that moment, staring at the inn while the breeze carried the smell of the sea with it, Stella felt perfectly at home.
“Okay, I promise,” she said. “I’ll consider…something…whatever that means.”
“Good.” She could hear the smile in Jace’s voice.
“Now, get off the phone with your mom and pay attention to your girlfriend.” She hesitated, waiting for him to confirm or deny. “She is your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
Jace didn’t answer, but she could hear Madison yell in the background. “Yes, I am!”
Stella had just climbed the last step onto the porch when the door opened, and Georgia came out, eyes pinched in worry. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“Sam has called here four times looking for you. He asked for your cell-phone number, but that goes against our confidentiality policies. He understood, but he wasn’t happy about it.”
“Thanks for that.”
“For not giving Sam your number? Oh, darling, did he mess up that badly?”
“No. Well, yes, but that’s not why I don’t want him to have my number,” Stella said. “I just needed time to think things through, so I’m glad he didn’t call me.”
Georgia grabbed Stella’s hand and peered into her eyes with intensity. “You’ve had time to think about it now, though, I hope?”
Surprisingly, yes. Stella didn’t really think the twenty-minute walk from the theater to the inn would resolve anything, but it had. Talking with Jace had made Stella realize that the way she felt about Sam and Willow Beach and everyone was special. It wasn’t something that should be thrown away on a whim. Maybe if she were to sit down and crunch the numbers, she’d realize Sam didn’t deserve a second chance. But Stella deserved one. She deserved happiness, and she wouldn’t let anyone snatch it away from her without a fight.
“Yeah, I think so.”
Georgia let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh good. Because I’m afraid you’re all out of time.”
Before Stella could ask what she meant, Georgia pointed over her head. Stella turned and saw Sam’s truck coming up the long drive, dust rising behind him.
When she turned back, Georgia gave her a small smile and patted her hand. “Be kind to him. He’s new to all of this.”
“So am I.” Stella laughed. In more ways than one, she felt like a teenager after experiencing her first big fight.
Georgia stepped inside the door and stopped just before pulling it closed behind her. “Then be kind to yourself too, dear.”
The advice was still ringing in Stella’s ears as she turned and faced Sam, who had climbed out of his truck and was walking straight toward her.
17
“I’m the world’s dumbest man.”
Before Stella could greet him or be angry or say anything at all, Sam began to talk. And talk. And talk.
“It was a split-second decision. The moment you snapped back at me when I made the comment about having to hitch up your car in the dark, I knew I needed to take you out. It’s just that I don’t do this often. Ever, really. I’ve told you about my dating life, and it’s sparse. I didn’t know how to ask someone I’d just met out on a date, so I held your car hostage. Then, I called Georgia and told her to show her new guest a good time since you seemed like you’d had a long night.”
Sam must have noticed Stella’s show of surprise because he ran a hand down his face and groaned.
“I know. I meddled in everything. I knew Georgia would take you to the Duke Saloon since she is such good friends with Alma, so I went there for dinner. The dancing was all Georgia’s idea, but she has known me long enough that she could probably tell I liked you. Or, maybe it was just good luck. Either way, we danced, and then I was certain. I tried to ask you out, but you didn’t seem interested.”
Stella remembered turning him down. Sort of. Sam hadn’t asked her out specifically, but
she’d guessed his intentions. At the time, she didn’t want to get involved with him at all since she knew she’d be leaving soon. It was how Stella knew if Sam hadn’t kept her car hostage, as he’d put it, that she would have gone on to Boston and written Willow Beach off as nothing more than an accidental stop. She certainly wouldn’t be standing on the steps of the Willow Beach Inn, watching her very handsome mechanic confess his feelings for her.
“Then, we had the picnic. Spending more time with you was as nice as I thought it would be, but the guilt of lying to you about your car was eating me up inside. You were telling me what a nice guy you thought I was, and I’d lied to you and manipulated you.” Sam actually pulled at his hair, tugging on the dark brown strands so they stuck out on either side of his head.
“That’s why you got so weird. I thought maybe I’d come on too strong,” Stella said, glad to finally have that mystery solved.
Sam’s eyes bugged out, and he laughed sarcastically. “Too strong? You could have leaned over and kissed me right there in the grass, and I would have died a happy man. I’m confident saying that since now I know how well you kiss.”
Stella’s face warmed, but she did her best to hide her smile. With every word, Sam was softening her heart, but she liked Madison’s suggestion of making him squirm a bit. Regardless of whether she wanted to forgive him or not, he had messed up, and Stella thought he deserved to be a little uncomfortable.
Sam ran a nervous hand down his graying scruff, pulling on his jawline and shaking his head. “I felt guilty about it, but I couldn’t find it in me to feel guilty enough to let you go. Every minute we spent together, I liked you more and more. I knew eventually I’d have to tell you your car was fixed, but I hoped by the time that came up, you’d like me, too.”
There was an unspoken question in his words. A hope he was still too nervous to give voice to. Regardless of the advice she’d been given, Stella couldn’t stay quiet. She couldn’t let him live through the anguish of not knowing, no matter how temporary.
“Of course I like you, Sam.” The smile she’d been suppressing rose to the surface, her face splitting wide. “I think every woman who has ever met you has liked you. I’m not rare in that regard.”
Sam’s entire expression lifted. The worry in his brows eased, his eyes widened as though to take in as much of Stella as possible, and his mouth fell open in awe. Suddenly, he was scrambling up the steps. He stopped one step below her so their eyes were level and grabbed her hands. “But you are rare, Stella. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”
Stella shook her head and was about to tell him not to flatter her, but Sam kept going.
“You’re generous with your time and your talents, but you’re also humble. You don’t seem to have any idea how beautiful or talented or exceptional you are.” Sam pulled on her hands, drawing her closer to him, to the very edge of the step. He folded her hands up in his and held them between the warmth of their bodies. “I spent so long thinking my dreams had passed me by, thinking there wasn’t time for me to have a family of my own or people I loved and cared about. Then, just as I started to realize I had that, just as I started to grow comfortable with the fact that I had the Baldwins and my shop and my friends, you showed up.”
“Technically, you towed me here,” she corrected.
Sam laughed. “Technically, yes, but I’m not so sure it wasn’t something else pulling us together. I know I manipulated a lot of our interactions since you’ve come into this town, but whether you believe in fate or not, I do. And I think the two of us were supposed to meet.”
Stella loved everything Sam was saying, but it also felt like a lot. They’d only known each other for four days. Should he really be saying all of this to her?
As if reading her mind, Sam squeezed her hand and interrupted her thoughts. “I know I’m laying a lot on you here, but after so many lies, I want to be entirely honest.”
“I’m glad.” Stella was glad. Jace had told her to consider…something. And how could she consider that something without knowing everything?
“I think we were destined to meet now because I’m finally content. I’m happy with where I’m at in my life, and I don’t need you.” He smiled and shook his head. “I know that doesn’t sound romantic, but I think it is. I don’t need you in my life, Stella, but I want you. Deeply. And I think that is so much better.”
If Stella thought her heart had melted before, it was liquefied now.
“Of course,” he said, twisting his mouth into a nervous tangle. “None of this means anything if you can’t forgive me. And you can’t forgive me until I apologize. So, Stella, I am so sorry for lying to you. Can you forgive me?”
Their hands were still clasped between them, Stella’s fingers curled around Sam’s. Based on that alone, she thought her answer should be obvious, but she also understood Sam’s need to hear it.
“I can forgive you.”
His entire body sagged with relief, and their precarious position wobbled slightly, making them both laugh. He grinned up at her. “You can?”
She nodded. “Only because your speech was so good. My son and his girlfriend thought I should make you work for my forgiveness a bit more, but you really laid it all on the line.”
“I used up all of my tricks,” he agreed. “Actually, if all else failed, I was going to kidnap you one final time and take you straight to Romano’s for a cannoli. That was my last resort.”
“In that case, I can’t possibly forgive you. What you’ve done is too horrible, and there is nothing in the world you could do to—”
Before Stella could finish, Sam lunged forward, wrapped his arms around her legs, and threw her over his shoulder. Stella screamed, but it came out more like a laugh, the two mixing together.
Sam dropped her in the passenger seat of his truck, buckled her in, and flew down the gravel drive of the inn like his life depended on it.
“I forgive you,” Stella said around a mouthful of cannoli. “But I’d forgive you even more if you gave me your cannoli, too.”
Sam raised a dark brow and took a defiant bite of his cannoli. “I’m fine with normal forgiveness, thanks.”
After they left the inn, Sam had driven straight to Romano’s, and was only persuaded not to carry Stella into the restaurant over his shoulder when she told him someone might call the police.
“I know all of the cops in this town,” he said. “Plus, you wouldn’t turn me in, right?”
“That depends on how fresh the cannolis are in the middle of the afternoon.”
Thankfully for them both, the cannolis were as fresh and delicious as ever. But even with the sugar rush they brought on and the adrenaline that was still pumping from being thrown over a man’s shoulder, Stella couldn’t keep the beginnings of doubts out of her mind.
“Okay, you’ve turned serious. If it means that much to you, I’ll give you the rest of mine.” Sam slid his plate towards her, though she could see the longing in his eyes as he did so.
“No, keep it. It’s not that.”
He shoved the rest of the cannoli in his mouth before she could change her mind and then swallowed before speaking. “What is it, then?”
Sam had been honest with her, so Stella felt it was only fair she returned the favor. She took a deep breath and laid it all out there. “I like you too. Have liked you since the moment we met. But I’m not sure what all of that means considering, technically, I’m only on vacation. This isn’t my real life.”
Sam’s mouth fell open. “This isn’t real? Are we in Oz?”
Stella frowned, and he grinned, clearly still too happy to be weighed down by the reality of their situation like Stella was.
“I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands and leaning back in the booth. “You’re right. We should talk about things.”
“Yes, things,” Stella said, secretly hoping Sam would describe the “things” so she didn’t have to.
He tipped his head to her, waving her to continue.
“I just think we should be realistic about our expectations. We don’t even live in the same town.”
“I’m not tied down here,” Sam said, waving a hand flippantly.
“You own a business.”
“Pah.” Stella leveled her gaze at him, and he sighed. “Okay, fine. I’m a little tied down. But knowing how to fix cars means I’m not afraid to put a little mileage on them. I’ll come visit you.”
Stella chewed on her lip. “A weekend relationship would be good enough for you?”
“It would be better than nothing.” The sincerity in his eyes made Stella’s lungs squeeze. “Plus, I’ll buy a phone made in this century, and we can video chat. And call. And text. You’ll be sick of me in no time.”
Stella highly doubted that. In fact, she was afraid the more she got of Sam, the more she’d want. She was worried it would become like an addiction she couldn’t break. She was afraid he’d get sick of her, which was why her next question was especially difficult to ask.
“What if I moved here?”
He hadn’t been expecting that, she could tell. His eyes widened, and he stared at her for a moment, not betraying any emotion.
“It’s just a question,” Stella hurried to explain. “I mean, I don’t own a business. I’m not tied down back at home, and even aside from you, Willow Beach is great. I really like it here. And, I don’t know…it’s your town, so I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything, but it’s just an idea—”