Sweet Beginnings: A Candle Beach Sweet Romance

by Nicole Ellis

  She held up a hand to silence them. “I’ve got to go to the hospital with Garrett. Can you please talk with the fire department? Let them know I should be back in a few hours. You can give them my cell phone number if they need to reach me before then.”

  Maggie squeezed her arm and said, “We will. Give Wendy our best.”

  Dahlia thanked them and returned to Garrett.

  “Okay, let’s go.” They followed the ambulance’s path out of town, riding in silence most of the way. Dahlia couldn’t help but wonder if Wendy’s stalker had anything to do with the fire, but she didn’t mention her theory to Garrett. That was a can of worms that didn’t need to be opened.

  After arriving at the hospital, they had to wait for a while before being allowed to see Wendy. Once she was evaluated and checked in, the hospital staff permitted them to enter her room. Two nurses were getting her situated in a bed.

  “How is she?” Garrett asked a doctor writing in the chart outside her door.

  “She inhaled a lot of smoke, so we’re going to continue with our treatments and keep her overnight for observation. She should be feeling better by tomorrow, although her throat will be sore.”

  “Thank you,” Garrett said. The tension in his face eased.

  The nurses left, and Garrett and Dahlia crossed over to Wendy’s bedside.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked softly, leaning in to give his mother a kiss on the forehead.

  Wendy smiled, although she looked exhausted. Then she coughed and said, “Like Santa Claus caught in a chimney fire.”

  Dahlia smiled. Wendy would be okay. “You gave us quite a scare.” She reached for Wendy’s hand.

  Wendy squeezed it, looking from Dahlia to Garrett and back again. “You two came here together. Does that mean your silly argument is over?”

  “How did you know about that?” Dahlia asked.

  “Do you know how many phone calls I got from the Ladies after you were seen arguing in the park?”

  Of course. Good gossip traveled fast.

  “So did you make up?”

  Garrett didn’t answer, but he had an odd expression on his face.

  “Garrett?” Wendy nudged.

  “Sure,” he said, nodding. He turned to Dahlia. “I think Mom is settled in here. You can get back to the bookstore now if you’d like.”

  Wendy groaned. “Dahlia, I feel awful about the bookstore. I never thought he’d do something like this.”

  “You mean your stalker?” Garrett narrowed his eyes at Wendy. “When were you going to tell me about him? You could have been killed. I’m going to make sure the hospital stations someone at the door to your room. This has gone too far.”

  “You know?” Wendy cringed.

  “Yeah. Adam told me. Not you, and not Dahlia. I had to hear about this from a guy I barely know.”

  Wendy patted his arm. “It’s just a little problem I’ve been having with someone I used to date. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt me.”

  “This isn’t some little thing. Do you realize how bad this could have been?”

  She shrank into her pillow. “I know.” She reached her hand out to him. “I’m sorry. I should have told you, and I never should have made Dahlia keep it from you.”

  “Maybe I should leave you two alone,” Dahlia said. “Garrett’s right, I should probably get back to Candle Beach, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She shifted her weight between her feet and shot glances out the door. Wendy and Garrett had a lot to discuss and it was better done without her present. Although the fire had brought them together, she still wasn’t sure where she stood with Garrett.

  “You’re welcome to stay, but I understand if you need to leave,” Wendy said.

  “I can come back in a few hours and give you a ride home,” Dahlia said to Garrett.

  “I’m sure I can find a ride home, don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay,” Dahlia said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Wendy.”

  She left the hospital more confused than ever over her relationship with Garrett.

  In Candle Beach, the fire truck remained at the smoldering bookstore, but no active flames were evident. Dahlia parked next to Wendy’s truck and approached a firefighter who was still there. He leaned against the back of the fire truck, completing paperwork.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Dahlia Winters, I own this building. Or what remains of it, I suppose.”

  “Oh yes, Ms. Winters. Your friends said you were going to the hospital.” He checked his notes. “The final report won’t be in for a while, but so far it looks like a clear case of arson. You should be able to go in with someone tomorrow and recover anything that survived the fire.”

  She took another look at the building. The exterior had looked bad before, but now she could see that much of the brick hadn’t been harmed by the fire. Except for the blown-out window, the building itself was fine.

  She walked over to the window frame and peered over it. The water damage inside, was another story. Soggy books lay strewn across the floor, bloated with liquid. There wouldn’t be any books to save, but maybe some of Aunt Ruth’s things had survived. Ironically, all of her remodeling efforts had been in vain. Insurance would probably cover the building and contents, but what would this mean for the terms of Aunt Ruth’s will? At least Wendy was safe. Books could be replaced, people couldn’t.

  It seemed like years ago that she’d been at the summer market, intent on selling as many books as possible, although in reality it had only been a little over eight hours ago. As quickly as the bookstore had come into her life, it had literally gone up in flames.

  She finished answering the firefighter’s questions around midnight and drove home, exhausted.

  She tore off her smoky clothes and showered as soon as she entered the house. The water pressure rinsed off the long day and made her feel moderately better. After a cup of tea, she headed for bed, but she tossed and turned for the better part of an hour.

  This is ridiculous, she thought. She got dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt and grabbed her house keys and a flashlight.

  On the way down the hill to the beach trail, she passed Garrett’s house, noting that the light was on in his kitchen. He’d apparently found a ride home.

  Her flashlight cast a small beam of light on the beach trail, but ahead, the moon illuminated much of the beach. She walked down to the surf, mesmerized by the foam glowing in the moonlight. Had it really been only a few weeks since she’d made the decision to stay in Candle Beach? Aunt Ruth’s legacy of To Be Read didn’t exist anymore, and things with Garrett were up in the air. Was it worth staying?

  Garrett’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts. “I thought I’d find you here.”

  The pounding of the waves had disguised his approach, and she jumped when she realized she wasn’t alone.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He moved to within a few feet of her.

  “How’d you know I was here?”

  “I saw you walk down the hill,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep either.”

  She nodded and shivered a little as cold air off the water blasted through her sweatshirt. “How did you get home?”

  “I hitched a ride with the police officer who came to Haven Shores to interview Mom.”

  So he was calling her Mom now instead of Wendy. That was an interesting development.

  “What did the police have to say? Did they catch the person who burned the bookstore and almost killed Wendy?” She shivered again, this time with fear that the arsonist was still on the loose.

  “They caught him,” Garrett said. “Apparently he was in the crowd at the fire.” He laughed at the irony. “That’s the benefit of small towns. Even with all the tourists, any strangers stand out to local law enforcement.”

  “Was it the same person who left her the threatening note and vandalized her truck and booth?”

  Garrett mock glared at her. “Yes, it was. And it would have been nice to know about those earlier.”<
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  Her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I almost told you so many times, but we kept getting interrupted.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her an arms-length away. He looked directly into her eyes. Even in the soft moonlight, his gaze was intense. “Dahlia, it wasn’t your fault. My mother is a force of nature. It wasn’t up to you to tell me. She should have said something.” His hands slid lower on her arms, eliminating the chill she had felt. “I can understand why she wouldn’t have told me though. I haven’t always been very open to hearing things from her.” He stared out over the water. “Or from you,” he added, looking into her eyes again.

  “Garrett, I don’t—” she started to say, before he put a finger on her lips.

  “Let me say what I need to say first.”

  She nodded, and he pulled her closer. “I know you’re not like my mother. She never would have stayed like you did, even after everything Agnes put you through.”

  Dahlia tilted her head to watch his expression as he spoke.

  “I’ve loved you ever since the first time I saw you, standing there at the overlook.”

  “Do you mean that? You really love me? I didn’t think you’d even noticed me that day.” She was almost afraid to breathe. “You barely acknowledged me in the parking lot.”

  “Yes, silly. I love you.” He smiled. “Of course I noticed you. I thought you’d seen me taking your picture. I couldn’t help myself.” He sighed. “You looked so serious and beautiful as the wind blew through your hair. But you were staring so anxiously toward Candle Beach and I felt awkward about interrupting a private moment. I couldn’t seem to get the words out to introduce myself.” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

  “Later, when we met formally, I got it into my head that you were a carbon copy of my mother and every other creative type I’ve ever known. I’d vowed to never get involved with anyone like that, but somehow you were always there, infiltrating my thoughts. I tried to push it away, but couldn’t.” He looked out to sea again. “And then when I saw the flames at the bookstore, all I could think about was your safety and my mother’s. If I’d lost you…” He removed a hand from her arm and brushed away a tear.

  Dahlia didn’t think. “I love you too.” She pulled his face toward her and kissed him squarely on the lips. Garrett moved his hands to her jawline and deepened the kiss. After a minute, they pulled away to stand a few inches from each other.

  “You didn’t lose me,” she said. “And no, I’m not your mother.” She grinned impishly and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

  23

  A week later, Dahlia sat with her friends drinking wine in their usual booth at Off the Vine, being bombarded with questions.

  “I can’t believe we haven’t seen you in a week,” Gretchen said.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Busy canoodling with Garrett?” she teased. Maggie slapped Gretchen’s hand playfully, but then they both turned up their faces to hear Dahlia’s response.

  “No, not with Garrett.” Dahlia stuck her face in her glass of wine, hoping to conceal the blush she felt heating her cheeks. “Okay, maybe some of that time has been spent with Garrett, but I’ve been working with the insurance company all week.”

  “A-ha, I knew it!” Gretchen looked smug. “Maggie saw you two snuggled up on a park bench together on Wednesday. She told one of the Ladies and now the whole town is talking.”

  Maggie had the decency to redden.

  “The whole town?” Dahlia shook her head. Small towns.

  “Sorry, I didn’t think about it before I told her,” Maggie apologized. “So how is everything going with the insurance company? We had a small fire at the café last year and it was a nightmare getting them to sign off on repairs.”

  “It’s not as bad as I would have thought,” Dahlia said. “Since this was a clear-cut case of arson, they’ve eliminated the waiting period for investigation, so I should be able to start interviewing contractors next week.”

  “We feel so bad for you,” Maggie said. “All that work you did and then to have this happen.”

  “There’s not much I can do about it. I could not rebuild To Be Read, and leave Candle Beach, but where would that leave me?”

  “And there’s Garrett to consider…” Gretchen said, for which she received a swift elbow to the mid-section from Maggie. “What?” A sly smile crept across her face.

  “And you guys, and the town in general, and even Agnes,” Dahlia said.

  “Agnes?” Gretchen looked perplexed. “I would think you’d happily move as far away as possible from her.”

  “Well, I had the strangest conversation ever with her this week,” Dahlia said. She ate a stuffed mushroom and sipped her wine, prolonging the suspense. Gretchen’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets and even ever-calm Maggie fidgeted in her seat.

  “Tell us!” Gretchen ordered. “What did Agnes say?”

  Dahlia put down her drink. “She said that she never wanted to make me leave town. Before Ruth’s death, she’d promised her she’d challenge me so I wouldn’t get bored with the bookstore. Ruth suspected I’d want to sell it, and not want to be tied down, but she knew it would be good for me.”

  “You’re kidding me.” Maggie downed half of her glass of wine in two long gulps. “All that was to challenge you? To make you emotionally invested in the bookstore and want to stay in town?”

  “She may have taken it a bit too far.” Dahlia laughed. “But she was successful. If it hadn’t been for her meddling in everything related to the bookstore, I probably wouldn’t have given Candle Beach a chance, and wouldn’t be here today.”

  “Well then,” Gretchen said, raising her drink for a toast. “To Agnes.” They clinked their glasses together.

  “And to Aunt Ruth,” Dahlia said. They raised their glasses again. As the three glasses made contact, Dahlia could feel Aunt Ruth smiling down upon them.

  “How’s this?” Garrett anchored the arbor in place over the entrance to the path through Aunt Ruth’s garden. He’d replaced some of the woodwork in the trellis and repainted it. The white paint shone in the sunlight, the perfect foil to the brightly colored flowers surrounding it.

  “I love it.” Dahlia pressed her hands together in front of her with the tips of her fingers against her lips. “It’s perfect. Aunt Ruth would be proud of you.”

  He smiled. “I’m pretty proud of myself too. I always knew those woodworking classes I took back in Seattle would come in handy.”

  They’d whipped the gardens into shape together, with the refinished arbor as the last piece to complete it. She eyed the flaking exterior of the house. “Now I just have to repaint the house. Not looking forward to that.”

  “Well, at least you’ll be here to enjoy it.” He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his chin on her head. “You don’t have any plans to leave, right?” he teased.

  She elbowed him and turned around, planting a kiss on his lips. “You know very well that I have no intention of ever moving away from Candle Beach. This is my home now. And there’s a certain guy I just might miss if I left.”

  “Oh really? A certain guy?” He kissed her and picked her up, depositing her on the porch swing. She laughed and pulled him down beside her on the flowered cushions.

  “Yes, a very handsome guy who I happen to love very much and intend to spend a lot of time with in the future. That is, if he can tear himself away from his romance novels long enough.”

  “Oh, I think that can be arranged. And who knows, the story of how we met and fell in love might work its way into a romance novel of its own.”

  She stared into his eyes, allowing herself to get lost in them. “You know, I think I’d like that. As long as it has a happily ever after.”

  “Of course it will. How could it not?”

  She leaned against him and closed her eyes to enjoy the moment. With the warmth of the sun, the beauty of the gardens, and the man she loved beside her, she’d nev
er felt such happiness.

  Thank You for reading Sweet Beginnings!

  Want to spend more time in Candle Beach?

  Gretchen’s Story: Sweet Success

  See the next page for a preview of Sweet Success

  Maggie’s Story: Sweet Promises — coming soon

  Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited

  Sweet Success: A Candle Beach Sweet Romance

  “They’re sickeningly sweet together.” Gretchen Roberts watched as the couple in a booth at the back of Off the Vine snuggled close against each other.

  Her friend Maggie punched her lightly in the arm.

  “Ouch.” She rubbed her arm and glared. “I think you’ve spent too much time in kickboxing classes.”

  “Ha ha,” Maggie said. “You’re happy for her, remember?”

  “Okay, okay. I’m happy that Dahlia and Garrett found each other, but I miss spending time with my friend. It’s been weeks since the three of us hung out together.”

  “We’ve been busy too,” Maggie reminded her. “With the mild weather in January and February, this was the biggest winter tourist season we’ve ever had in Candle Beach.” She sipped her glass of Chardonnay and surreptitiously glanced at Dahlia, who was making gooey eyes at Garrett, then rolled her own eyes. “Okay, they’re annoying. But I am happy for her. It’s been ages since I went out on a date. And what about you? I’ve got a kid at home, but you’re young and single. Why are you sitting here with me on a Friday night?”

  “I haven’t had time to meet anyone. And I have better things to do with my time than try to meet men.” Gretchen grabbed an onion ring from the basket in the middle of the table and crunched down on it.

  “Like what?” Maggie gave her a pointed look as she took the last onion ring and dipped it into ranch dressing.

  “Like—” Gretchen started to say, but was interrupted by a woman tapping her on the shoulder. A man stood a few feet behind the woman.