The Complete Legacy Inn Collection: Four Sweet YA Romances

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The Complete Legacy Inn Collection: Four Sweet YA Romances Page 8

by Sara Jane Woodley


  We’ve been quiet for a while, but we don’t need to talk. The storm must have lasted over an hour, but it feels like no time has passed.

  Noah looks at me and I realize I’m staring. His clear blue eyes are piercing, stunning.

  I take a deep breath and look away. I fumble with my seatbelt, clipping it in. “We should head back. Don’t want my irresponsibility to rub off on you too much.”

  I don’t know why I said that. I can’t control my words when I’m with Noah.

  He starts the ignition. “I wouldn’t call you irresponsible.”

  “No?” My voice is bitter. “Then what would you call me?”

  He considers my question for a moment and bites his lip. “Free.”

  Free?

  Noah pulls a U-turn and we head back towards the Inn. His hand rests on the center console.

  What would it be like to take his hand, to interlace my fingers with his? “You wouldn’t believe what happened tonight.”

  I tell him the saga with the double booked room. I describe in blistering detail Delia’s disappointment, how upset the Sharps were, and my luck with the kind bride who gave up the suite.

  “And that’s why Delia shouldn’t trust me.” I finish, shrugging.

  Why did I tell him that? He probably doesn’t care. Uncomfortable, I brood in the silence that follows. Then, to my utter surprise, Noah chuckles.

  “Wow.” He sounds… impressed? “You managed to get a rise out of Delia. DELIA. She’s like the most mild-mannered, happy person on the entire planet.”

  I stare at him blankly.

  He grins back. “Productive day for you. You got a rise out of both me and Delia. Well done. That’s an accomplishment. We should give you a medal.”

  He does his half-smile and my tense expression relaxes. Leave it to Noah to turn a devastating situation into a small win. I stare out the passenger window at the darkness. The rain has stopped. I feel weirdly vulnerable all of a sudden.

  “Well, what do you think about all this — about me working at the Inn?” My voice is quiet.

  Silence from his end of the car. My mind is spinning.

  “I think,” he finally says, his tone matching mine, “you should lay off Delia. She’s stressed about the summer, especially with all of the events at the Inn. Might be worth going easy on her.”

  “Hm.” I frown at my reflection.

  “Besides, maybe you’ll like the work more than you expect.” I hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe you’ll get really, really, good at it. Picture this: Bree Lewis, Productivity Guru.”

  I roll my eyes. “My mom would be thrilled.”

  He laughs and we fall back into a comfortable silence.

  Eventually, the lights of the Inn appear in the distance, signaling the end of our night. Noah’s words stick in my mind. Delia’s had every reason to give up on me and send me back to Edendale, but she’s refused. And I can’t imagine leaving her with her mile-long to-do list. I’m in too deep.

  In a way, I actually admire Delia. With her skydiving and cowboy hats and frog figurine, she clearly owns her individuality, her “wild streak.” Maybe at one time, she was irresponsible and careless like me.

  Noah parks in the staff lot — without stalling, turning on the high beams, or going into cruise control.

  We sit quietly as he turns off the car. He opens his mouth to say something, then stops himself.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he says. “Just… thanks for this.”

  “For what?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Then don’t.”

  He looks at me. “Don’t?”

  “Life’s meant to be lived, not explained.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “And that means…?”

  I laugh. “I read it in a book somewhere. I thought it sounded clever.”

  He unbuckles his seat belt. “It was clever.”

  I hop out of the car and take in Legacy Inn. A familiar feeling of determination washes over me. But this time, the motivation isn’t destructive or self-sabotaging. I want to try my hand at being… helpful.

  Noah gets out and stretches, throwing me the keys. He shoots me a charming smile, the kind that makes the girls at school go crazy. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely.” I fumble with the keys. My legs feel weak. It’s nothing, I’m sure. It’s just late and I’m tired.

  Before we part ways, I face him once more. “Next time, you owe me a scary story.”

  25

  Bree

  Delia whirls into reception and goes straight to her office. I get up from my desk and pat down my skirt, taking a deep breath before following her. “Delia, can I speak with you, please?”

  It’s been a few days since Noah and I chased the storm and I’ve had a lot of time to think, replaying that evening in my head. I’ve stopped slacking at work — I arrive on time, take my designated breaks, and dress semi-professionally. Most of all, I try to stay on top of things. It’s been going well. Delia happily answers my questions and there haven’t been any more big incidents.

  Most surprising, I don’t despise the work. But I would never tell Noah that.

  Today, I’m doing the unthinkable. Well, unthinkable for the old “careless” Bree — I’m asking for more responsibility. I steel myself and knock on the doorframe of Delia’s office. She’s sitting behind her desk, covered in tulle, satin and lace.

  “Yes?” She raises her head, and a bit of tulle bounces with the movement.

  I take a breath to calm my nerves, remembering Noah’s words. I use the memory to propel me forward. “I know you’re busy with everything around the Inn.”

  Delia takes off her half-moon glasses, waiting patiently for me to go on.

  Why is this so hard to say? My hands are sweaty. “I was thinking… What if I help plan some of the events and weddings? I heard that we have a lot this summer, so, if you’d like, I could give it a go…”

  I trail off, my voice small and quiet. This is a dumb idea. Delia’s going to say no. Why would she trust me with such a big task?

  But, to my surprise, Delia’s face lights up.

  “That is a phenomenal idea!” Delia leaps from her desk, rushes to me, and puts her hands on my shoulders. “I think you’re well-suited for something like this. Event coordination was one of my first jobs, you know. That would be a big help, dear. Thank you.”

  I smile. It’s not my “Customer Service” smile. It’s a warm, genuine smile that matches the way I feel. “I’m happy to help.”

  My heart sings as I return to my desk. My mind fills with ideas and inspiration for the summer’s events, so I pull out a pen and start making notes. Time disappears. The next time I check my phone, it’s fifteen minutes past when I should have taken my break.

  I skip to the kitchen, buzzing with excitement as I think about telling Noah. Since the evening we went storm chasing, we’ve been getting closer. That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Spending time with him is refreshing, like a cool shower on a hot day.

  “Nooooahhhhh,” I sing as I slam open the door. “Did you hear the news?”

  “News?” Noah closes the fridge door. Fernando and Carrie have gone suspiciously quiet.

  I bump my hip against his. “You’re looking at Legacy’s new Event Coordinator.”

  “Are you kidding?” He smiles, his eyes sparkling.

  “Thought I’d put myself out there. Try to do a little more. The idea came highly recommended to me by someone smart.” I wink.

  “Yes,” Noah agrees, “someone very, very smart.”

  I bite my lip. “Maybe not as smart as he thinks.”

  “Fantastico!” Fernando interrupts us, bounding over. “Noah, I’m sure Bree could use help with the catering side of things. Why don’t you two team up for the summer?”

  Fernando’s voice is pure and sweet, but I don’t trust his innocent gaze. Carrie gives him an elbow in th
e side, confirming my suspicions.

  I roll my eyes and giggle. Their teasing isn’t new. For some reason, these two think that there’s something more to me and Noah. But we’re just friends. Obviously. I wouldn’t dare jeopardize his promising future.

  “What do you say, partner?” Noah’s eyes are full of laughter.

  “Only if you provide me with an endless supply of fruit roll-ups.”

  He sighs like my request is an inconvenience. “Deal.”

  I give him a fist-bump. “Ready to go?”

  “His shift was over hours ago!” Fernando exclaims dramatically. “Please, take him!”

  26

  Noah

  “Stop!” Bree yells and I slam on the brakes. Garth rumbles to a stop in the middle of the highway — empty, thankfully.

  My heart races and panic floods my voice. “What?”

  But instead of appearing afraid or horrified, Bree smiles innocently. “Just thought this was a good spot.”

  We’re on the border of the National Park and the storm clouds are gathering in the distance. I’d give us fifteen minutes before the storm hits, but for now, the sky is clear and colorful for sunset.

  “Park here, and let’s go for a walk.” She turns off NWR.

  “Aye, aye captain.”

  We’re in a beautiful valley between mountain ranges, the sunset colors of the sky reflected in the river. A cool breeze swoops through the valley, forecasting the storm that’s about to hit. The world is bright and the air is heavy with the impending rainfall. The smell of pine is intoxicating.

  While I’m taking in the gorgeous view, Bree takes off up a small hill next to the road, her sandals almost flying off her feet.

  “Where are you going?”

  She pauses long enough to spin around. “Only one way to find out!”

  I reach for boulders with my hands, scrambling up the hill right after her. We reach the top and Bree raises her arms in victory. The storm is coming quickly now, the sky dimming.

  I flop on the ground and she sits next to me. To the left, the sky is yellow, orange, red. The sun sets behind a break in the mountains and the trees glow lime green in the light. To the right, the mountain peaks are covered with a blue and purple cloud.

  And then, a flash of lightning. It’s almost here.

  “You scared?” she asks quietly.

  “Never.” My voice is husky, almost as low as the thunder.

  The clouds rush in, angry and bruised, and we watch in silence. Within moments, it’s clear that we won’t make it back to Garth in time to stay dry. The first raindrop falls on my cheek.

  I smile and take a breath.

  Here it comes.

  The rain falls on us like a bucket of cool water. Lightning flashes bright above our heads and Bree shrieks. She hugs her knees and tilts backwards, watching the lightning cut across the sky.

  I sit back on my hands and Bree shifts closer, cuddling into my side.

  Then, something inexplicable happens. Bree starts to giggle, and then it becomes a chuckle. Finally, she breaks into a massive fit of laughter, curled into a ball.

  “Are you okay?” I’m mesmerized.

  “I’m great!” She shouts, elated, and the thunder booms. “You should try it!”

  I stare at her incredulously. She’s lost it. “Try what?”

  “Shout!”

  “No way.” My words vanish behind a clap of thunder.

  “Trust me!”

  She opens her mouth and screams into the chaos of the storm. Her voice is lost in the noise of the thunder and the force of the rain. But, as she yells into the darkness, I sense the release — the freedom.

  Her eyes are wild. Her lips are pulled back in a beaming smile and her cheeks are red. She nods towards the scene ahead of us — the dark blue clouds, the flash of lightning, the sheets of rain and the trees almost blown sideways by the wind. It’s an invitation.

  I take a deep breath, meeting her eyes. I’m nervous and uncertain — I’ve never done anything like this before. But there are a few things I’ve done differently since hanging out with Bree. Her turquoise eyes sparkle and I decide to break from the recipe once again.

  I shut my eyes, open my mouth and shout into the howling wind. The sound is, at first, tentative, and then loud. Louder than anything else. It goes on and on and I’m not even aware of my inhalations. My voice is wild and chaotic, and never in my life have I felt this free.

  An image of Mom floats through my mind and, for once, I hold her there. I allow the grief to take over, and then be released into the storm. I abandon my guard and let memories of my childhood shine through. I feel it all — the loss, the sadness, the despair, the fear, the anger, the confusion. I let it course through me and disappear into the thunderstorm.

  My lungs ache and my chest feels hollow. For once, I’m not the guy who helps everyone — the brother, the son, the friend, the student at Edendale High, the employee. I’m just Noah. And I’ve never felt so alive.

  I shout until my voice is gone and I’m screaming silently to the wind. When I finally come back to myself, I’m aware that a small hand is wrapped in mine.

  Confused, I look at Bree and she has an unreadable expression on her face. Like sadness, but relief. Happiness, but grief. My eyes meet hers and she gives me a small smile. Then, she throws her arms around me and squeezes me tight. The moment takes over and I squeeze her back, bringing her close. We’re soaking wet, but I can’t feel anything except the warmth of her body.

  I have no idea how long we sit, wrapped in each others’ arms. My eyes are clamped shut and I treasure the emptiness of my mind. Except for Mom. I’m holding her in the forefront and she’s smiling. I’m overwhelmed by emotions that I’ve been pushing down and ignoring for far too long.

  When I open my eyes, the storm is gone and the sky is dark. Night is upon us.

  “Thanks,” I whisper.

  “Anytime.” She sits back, looking into my eyes. “I think you needed that.”

  I’m lost in her gaze. The air around us is charged with electricity, and I wonder whether the storm left static behind. I feel like I’m seeing her for the first time, like I’m seeing everything for the first time.

  My eyes drop to her lips. I’d really like to kiss her.

  No, Noah, that’s crazy. We’re just friends.

  “Ready?” I whisper, pushing away the thought.

  She smiles and I stand, my wet clothes clinging to my body. I hold my hand out and help her up, but my fingers linger over hers. Something big just happened. Something I can’t explain.

  Then, she drops her hand and turns away, and the moment’s lost.

  27

  Bree

  Noah and I walk back to Garth, careful not to step on any wet grass or rocks. I can still feel his arms wrapped around me, burning like a sweet fire. Part of me wants desperately to grab his hand, but I cross my arms instead, trying to keep from shivering.

  Watching him shout into the storm was one of the most powerful, beautiful things I’ve ever seen. In the end, I screamed with him — for my parents and my sister and my future and my present. At that moment, it’s like he wasn’t Noah and I wasn’t Bree. We were just two people trying to figure out our ways in this world.

  He sits in the driver’s seat and slicks back his soaking hair. His white T-shirt is soaked through and his black slacks are stuck to his muscular legs. His eyes meet mine and I get lost in them.

  Then, he smiles. My legs go numb and I look away quickly. Just the cold... Right?

  We drive towards Legacy Inn, blasting the heat. My heart rate slows and a deep sense of calm flows through me. I’m lost in thought, some confusing, long-forgotten emotions bubble beneath the surface.

  Over the years, I’ve gotten used to feeling alone, to being the odd one out. At Edendale High, all of my closest friends are part of cliques I don’t belong to, nor want to belong to. However, tonight, with Noah, I had a glimpse of what it feels like to belong. With him, I allowed myself to be v
ulnerable in a way I’ve never been with anyone else.

  It’s comforting and yet unsettling.

  “So, aside from screaming into storms like a banshee,” Noah breaks the silence. “What do you want to do when you grow up?”

  I shrug. “I do think the banshee thing is a promising avenue for me.”

  “Solid side hustle,” he laughs.

  I gaze out the window as my sadness and self-doubt threaten to return. I watch the stars appear — little pockets of light in an otherwise dark and empty skyscape. “Move to Paris, probably.”

  “Why?”

  “To piss off my parents.”

  Noah laughs. “Your dedication to driving people crazy is legendary.”

  I smile at my soaked reflection in the window. Man, I am a sight for sore eyes. “At the start of the year, my parents were upset when I decided to take French instead of AP Economics. I started joking that I wanted to move to Paris after graduation and never return. The entire year, I went out of my way to research Parisian attractions, eat French food, and speak French whenever my parents were around.”

  I sneak a glance at Noah and he chuckles quietly, waiting for me to go on. I haven’t told anyone about this — not even Isla. “At the end of this year, my highest grade was in French, with a special note from Mme. Chevalier that I was ‘super geniale,’ which I’m pretty sure translates to ‘super genius.’”

  Noah drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, France it is.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” It’s completely dark outside, now. There are no other cars on the highway. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world. “In all honesty, I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I’ve only ever been told what to do and then rebelled against it.”

  Silence from his end of the car. Then, he places his hand on the center console and his pinky brushes mine. Did he mean to do that?

 

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