The Friendly Cottage

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The Friendly Cottage Page 7

by Susan Hatler


  He nodded. “Restoring houses is what I’m born to do. It’s being passionate about something, really caring about it, and getting to do that every day as a job that puts a smile on my face.”

  “I want to be happy like that,” I admitted. I wanted to wake up in the morning knowing that I was going to spend my day earning my living doing the thing that filled my soul. “I could do that, if we could just win the contest.”

  “Well, we’ve—”

  “Help!” Janine limped up to where we were standing, holding a brown object in her hand. “You won’t believe this, but I was hurrying back to you guys downhill—I didn’t even realize this yard had a slant toward the ocean—and my heel got stuck in the lawn. I pitched forward and the heel snapped right off my shoe. They’re new, too.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, giving her a sympathetic look.

  “May I see it?” Jackson asked.

  “Sure.” Janine reached down and took the shoe off and then handed him the brown object, which turned out to be the broken heel.

  “I have carpenter’s glue in the truck,” Jackson announced, turning the heel over in his hand. “That should fix your shoe right up.”

  “Really? Oh, thank you!”

  “Be back shortly.” Jackson nodded to us, but then Janine limped along beside him, leaving me standing there. Alone.

  Sadly, this felt like the most refreshing moment of my evening.

  I decided to head down to the ocean, taking long breaths as I went. My lungs filled with the mixed scent of freshly-mowed grass and the salty sea. The smells were warm and familiar and reminded me of all those days I’d spent at the inn as a girl.

  I walked down to the shore, taking my shoes off as I went. The grass, springy and tough, gave way to soft sand. The smell of the ocean got stronger as I descended the steps and the sound of the pounding surf got louder. The water crashed and creamed against that sand and then it rolled back with a soft sigh. The wind blew stronger, sending my blond strands flying back from my face.

  I regained my footing as I walked along the shoreline, not quite near enough to the water to get my feet wet, but close enough to feel that powerful and infinite force sweeping near me. The ocean always made me feel better, but not this time. I lifted my chin. I was going to go back to the party and force myself to have fun. I was going to have fun with Jackson, who was perfect for me, and I was going to forget all about Brian, who was never going to be right for me.

  At least this was what I kept telling myself.

  I stopped at the weathered monument against the bluffs, chills rolling through me as I spotted the plaque that held the famous local legend of Blue Moon Bay. As a girl, I used to fall asleep dreaming about this legend, hoping for that happily-ever-after of the fairy tales I so loved to watch with my Aunt Bea.

  In my innocent youth, there had been no thought of dating men who gorged on pancakes, insisted on free dresses for their siblings, or demanded payback for coffee purchased while we were dating. No, I’d believed in love back then. Now? I didn’t know what to believe. Maybe if I read the legend again then it would bring back some of its magic. . .

  As the waves crashed against the shore, I licked my bottom lip and began reading aloud the words embossed in bronze lettering on the plaque. “One kiss, right here, under a blue moon will lead to love that lasts forever . . .”

  A shiver rolled through me and I gazed up at the sky—at the full moon hanging in the dark sky. Forever-love still reminded me of Brian. In reality, he was probably inside dancing with Chelsea Chambers about now. My stomach roiled at the picture of them in my head.

  I shoved the thought from my mind, gazed back down at the plaque, and went on. “Know the history of two young people, the daughter of locals and the son of summer guests, who fell helplessly in love at this very beach. When their parents discovered their relationship, they were forbidden to see each other. His parents felt the working girl was beneath their son and her parents feared the scandal could ruin their business. But the night before the family was to return home, the son got a note to his sweetheart and they met here under the stars.

  “He pleaded with her to wait a year for him to turn eighteen and become a man—that until then they could write to each other in secret and he’d find a way for them to be together. The young girl knew their parents would never allow that to happen, though. She’d always obeyed her parents and wasn’t strong enough to go against their wishes, even for the perfect love she shared with him.

  “So, with broken hearts, they said goodbye to each other right here at this very spot. A blue moon hung in the night sky, illuminating their final kiss and they promised to love each other always. Then they vowed that everyone who kissed at this exact point by the bay, under a blue moon, would be in love forever—and would never separate as they tragically had . . .”

  My voice trailed off and a hot tear rolled down my cheek as the wind whipped my hair from side to side. I closed my eyes, listening to the rhythmic sounds of the water rocking against the shore, and wishing this legend had been real—that this exact spot could create the beginning of a forever-love for me. Obviously I needed a reality check. Sigh.

  I turned around, determined to go enjoy the rest of my double-date, but then stopped in my tracks when I saw Brian heading down the steps toward me.

  My eyes widened. “W-What are you doing here?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  Awkward silence fell. A wave rippled up, higher and faster than the others before it. The water hit me right above the ankles and flung me forward. I staggered and Brian caught me. I glanced up into gentle emerald-green eyes. “I’ve got you,” he said.

  “Yes, you do.” My throat went dry and I couldn’t move. Being in his arms was sheer heaven, but then his eyes quickly hardened. I pulled away. “Why are you really here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Oh?” I tucked my hair behind my ears, then found a huge fascination with the sand under my feet. I dug my toes into the moist sand until they were buried.

  “Megan? Look at me.”

  I so did not want to look at him right now. He might guess that I’d been reading the legend of Blue Moon Bay and thinking of him. Lame. So very lame.

  Finally, I lifted my lashes. “What?”

  “You don’t come by the inn anymore. Why?” His tone was firm, with a trace of hurt that stabbed at my heart.

  “Well, you know. I’m working hard.” And, uh, trying to get over you, which was so not going very well.

  “You’ve always worked hard, Megan.”

  I fiddled with my hair, hoping it wasn’t a tangled mess. “Yes, but now I have to do these paintings, too. There’s not a lot of time between cuts in this contest.”

  His brows drew together “I heard you didn’t take that contract with the Wexley Corporation. So, you have time to paint. Try again.”

  Wow. He wasn’t letting this go. Was he?

  “Yeah, that’s true. I’m just busy trying to build a business and win a contest . . .” I was rehashing the very things he had just brushed past but I didn’t know what else to say.

  He gazed out to sea and then turned back to me. “Is it because of your boyfriend?”

  I blinked. “What boyfriend?”

  “Jackson.” He bit the word out like it tasted bad.

  “He’s not my boyfriend . . .” But he was part of my double-date tonight. I didn’t want to talk about that, though, so I wandered over to the plaque that held the legend of Blue Moon Bay. My fingers brushed against the plaque. “When I was little, I thought this story was so romantic.”

  He came up beside me. His gaze lingered on the plaque and he was quiet for a minute, until a seagull squawked in the distance. “Romantic? It’s tragic.”

  Guys. Didn’t they know romantic and tragic were sometimes the same thing? “Oh?”

  He turned to me. “My grandma wrote Wendy a letter. Wendy got it after . . . Grandma died.” His face flickered with emotion. �
��In the letter, Grandma said she was the woman in the legend and she never got her great big love. Because love like that doesn’t exist.”

  I crossed my arms, unbelieving. “She said it doesn’t exist?”

  He shrugged. “I added that last part.”

  Irritation rolled through me. “What about Wendy and Max?”

  Brian’s gaze held mine. “Maybe they just got lucky.”

  “Or maybe they were destined to be together,” I countered, my heart beating fast in my chest. Okay, that little girl inside me refused to let go of this idea of forever-love, because Brian’s words were seriously ticking me off. “Maybe your grandmother didn’t get what she’d planned, but she had a great love.”

  His eyes blazed. “I told you the guy went away. She never saw him again.”

  I stepped toward him, and gripped his arm. “How have you forgotten? When we were kids, we’d all be over here together, reading on the beach, or sitting in the front lobby on rainy afternoons. Your grandma would feed us. She’d bring us cookies. It was obvious to anyone watching that you and Wendy were the big loves in her life. So there.”

  Brian flinched, then his eyes darkened. That was all the warning I had before the space between us was gone and his mouth came down on mine.

  His kiss was hard and possessive as if he were still arguing with me, only this time not with his words but with his mouth. Well, two could play at that game. I place my hands on either side of his face, pulling him closer, before I parted my lips. He didn’t hesitate. His tongue mated with mine as if claiming me with every taste of his tongue.

  Ripples of pleasure rolled through me as his hands clenched at my waist. There was absolutely nothing friend-ish or little sister-ish about his kisses. His mouth was hot and sexy against mine, as if he were finally seeing me the way I’d always wanted him to see me. Every cell in my body came alive like never before and I could hear the whisper of forever-love with each crash of the waves against the shore.

  He’d kissed me.

  He was kissing me.

  Then he changed the tempo.

  His tongue slowed. His hands wove into my hair, and my palms rested against his chest. Now he tasted me as if savoring every stroke. Those butterflies came alive in my belly and a tiny whimper escaped me. He drew my bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue tracing my lips, making my mouth feel cherished beyond belief. I wanted more.

  He hugged me with one arm, his other hand brushing along my jawline, and I felt suspended in time with this intense, soul-shattering kiss. We might never have broken it off, but Janine’s voice came from above, calling my name.

  “Megan? You down there?” she called.

  Brian released me and I staggered backward. He stared at me through heavy-lidded eyes, his chest heaving slightly. I placed my fingers against my tingling lips. I didn’t know, really, what had just happened. Okay, I knew what had happened, but I didn’t know why he had kissed me.

  “Megan?” Janine asked, her voice growing louder.

  “I have to go,” I said, not knowing if Janine was alone, with Cody, or possibly with Jackson. I’d completely forgotten about my double-date. I really did have to go, but I stood transfixed as if wanting Brian’s okay to leave him there. “Brian?”

  “Go,” he said.

  With that one word, I sprinted for the steps, picking up my discarded shoes in the sand, before calling out to Janine, “I’m here! I’m coming!”

  As I cleared the top step and raced toward Janine, who stood at the edge of the lawn, I glanced up and noticed the full moon, hanging in the sky. My pulse raced at warp speed. Yes, that was definitely a full moon. But was it the second full moon this month? Because that would make it a blue moon that Brian had kissed me under in that sacred spot by the bay.

  Chapter Six

  The bell over the door of the dress shop jingled. I glanced up from my hopeless task of trying to get the paint off my fingernails—with an emery board—and saw Janine walking into the store, wearing a pastel-blue, sleeveless dress and the most adorable strappy sandals.

  Janine pulled off stylish without even seeming to try. Not that my outfit wasn’t cute. I wore a green frock, embellished with the occasional swirl of gold on the bodice. But my sense of style had been deliberate. After all, I needed to look professional in order to sell dresses.

  “Hey, Megan,” she said, giving me a quick hug.

  “Hi,” I said, giving her a squeeze back. “What brings you in here?”

  “Need a dress.” She smiled warmly, but then her gaze flew to my fingernails. Her brows rose up high. “Did you get your nails done by that hopeless person at the beauty school again?”

  I shook my head and set the emery board aside. “No, I was up all night painting.”

  Or, trying to paint, anyway. All I’d succeeded in doing was to think about Brian, which was not a good idea since A) he hadn’t called me (it had been four days since our kiss, but who’s counting?); and B) I needed to turn in my next painting on Friday.

  “Oh.” She frowned and asked, “Is the paint going to come off?”

  “It’s oil, so . . .” I lifted a shoulder and gave her a sheepish smile. “What kind of dress are you looking for this time?”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “Cody agreed to go to Macbeth with me, so you’re off the hook. I know Shakespeare bores you, so that was sweet of you to offer.”

  I shrugged. “What are friends for?”

  “Anyway, I want to wear something special for the occasion since it’s a pretty big deal for him to agree to go with me. I mean, there’s no chance of him falling off a cliff or jumping out of an airplane, so I’m thinking this evening will be a bit tame for his liking.”

  I giggled. “I can see that. What did he call his latest adventure? Jump and dive?”

  “I’ve lost track.” She laughed, shaking her head. “But this is a full-on play with intermission and drinks, the whole nine yards—a sophisticated evening for the two of us, which is definitely to my liking. So, I need something dressy, but not too formal. This is Blue Moon Bay, after all.”

  “I think it’s sweet that Cody decided to go to the play with you,” I said, heading for the racks of dresses. “Oh, wait. Let me run in back and grab some new dresses that just came in today.”

  “Okay, I’ll look around while you get them.”

  I dashed into the back room and went to the dress boxes that held the new stock. I pulled out the dresses, and then made my way back to the front.

  Janine held a long and pretty silver dress against her front. “What do you think?”

  I set the boxes on a table near the racks. “It’s gorgeous, but it’s really dressy for the local theatre. It looks more like something you’d wear to a fancy movie premiere or to the city.”

  “You’re right.” Janine stroked her fingers down the gown’s shimmering length and then glanced at the price tag. “Ouch. I can’t afford to buy this one, anyway.” She hung it back up and walked toward the table. “What do you have there?”

  “Some new dresses that came in. I hope we’ll find the perfect one for you.”

  Janine sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if ‘perfect for me’ really matters that much.”

  I stopped prying the lid off the box in my hands. “What do you mean?”

  Janine held the bottom of the box and motioned for me to pull the lid off. We both looked inside. A burnt-orange taffeta horror peered back at us. I slammed the lid back on and grimaced. “Maybe not that one. What were you saying about perfection?”

  She shrugged as I tucked that box away and reached for another one. “I’m probably just being picky. But it feels like Cody has more of a connection with his jet ski and his parachutes than with me.”

  I set the box aside and held up a simple but sweet black dress. “What do you mean?”

  She took the dress and rested it against her body. “I mean, Cody is so different from me and I used to think that opposites attracted and all of that, and that our differences weren’t so big they
couldn’t be overcome. But, now? I’m not sure.”

  I took a spare hanger off the rack and placed the black dress neatly on it as she handed it back to me. “How do you know the differences are too big?” I asked.

  She took the next dress out of the box, a very elegant black number with a slight embellishment near the hem and waist. “I guess I don’t feel much of a connection with him and we’ve been dating for a couple months. I want it to work out and I’ve tried really hard, but maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m trying to force a connection and you can’t really ever do that.”

  She handed the dress back and I hung it up. Next, we pulled out a soft gray dress, but Janine shook her head, dismissing that one. I hung it up, thinking about what she’d just said about forcing a connection with someone. Was that what I was doing with Brian? If I wanted her advice, I’d have to come clean about the night of Charlie’s party.

  “I kissed Brian under a blue moon. He hasn’t called since that night, so I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me that way at all. Talk about forcing a connection.”

  “You what?” she shrieked.

  I jumped. “Um, what?”

  Janine advanced toward me. I grabbed the next box off the stack and practically flung it at her. She grabbed the edge of it and held it. “No way are you distracting me with a dress, not after dropping that bomb on me. You kissed Brian Watts? Wendy’s brother Brian?”

  I grimaced. Short of running out of the dress shop and down the street there wasn’t much I could do about the situation now. Janine had definitely heard me and she was not at all ready to let that conversation go.

  I pulled at the hair on either side of my head. “Yes. I kissed him, okay? We were arguing and, well, he started it because he kissed me first . . .”

  “Wait, you said blue moon? Like the legend? Was that a blue moon the other night when we were on that double-date at the inn?”

  I nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  Janine blinked a few times. “You were on a date with Jackson.”

 

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