by Aurora Rey
“For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen you happier.”
“Thanks. It means the world to me that you’re here, that you decided to stay.”
“If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if that would be the case.” The reality of that stayed with Will. She didn’t want to be dramatic, or overly sentimental, but Emerson had been so much more than a sofa to crash on. Without being pushy or parental, Emerson had given her the space and the support to find herself. Even when she’d known she needed to get away from Kai, Will had no idea just how lost she’d become.
“And if it weren’t for you, I don’t know if I would have had the guts to take things with Darcy to the next level.”
“I guess we’re even, then.”
Emerson grinned at her. “Good. That means I can ask a favor.”
“Anything. Well, almost anything. What is it?”
“Help me pick out a ring?”
The meaning of Emerson’s request sank in. She grinned. “Most definitely. Although I refuse to count that as a favor.”
“Thanks.” Emerson pulled Will into a hug. When she stepped back, she narrowed her eyes. “Wait, are you crying?”
Will blinked rapidly to prevent any tears from falling. “Not at all.”
Emerson’s face took on a look of concern. “Is something wrong? Are you not cool with me proposing to Darcy?”
Will shook her head, then punched her sister in the arm. “Of course I’m cool with it, you dolt. I’m just being mushy about it.”
Emerson chuckled. “Save the mushy for when she says yes.”
“Not that I think you have anything to worry about, but okay.” Will glanced at her watch.
Emerson raised a brow. “Got somewhere to be?”
“Graham invited me for dinner. I told her I’d stop by for dessert after I left your place.”
“Graham? Or Nora?”
“Graham did the inviting, but I think Nora was behind it.”
Emerson merely shook her head. “Go. Have fun. We’ll discuss this more thoroughly soon.”
Will shrugged playfully. “If only there was something worth discussing.”
With that, she climbed into her car and backed out of the driveway. The sun was beginning to set and there was virtually no traffic on Route 6. She flipped on the radio and found a station already playing Christmas music.
The inn emitted a welcoming glow. She passed it and found a parking spot a little ways up the street. She walked up the gravel path, thinking more about Nora than dessert. She didn’t hesitate this time to walk right in. Inside, the guests seemed spread out between the dining and sitting rooms. Looked like she made it just in time.
“You came.”
Will turned in the direction of Graham’s voice. “Of course I did. You said there’d be pie.”
Graham shook her head and smiled. “So. Much. Pie. Come with me.”
She followed Graham to the buffet in the dining room. She had no idea what had been served for dinner, but if the dessert spread was any indication, it had been a feast for the ages. “Wow.”
“I know. I’m trying to figure out if I can eat one of everything.”
It seemed unlikely. Will lifted her gaze and looked around the room for Nora, but didn’t see her. “Where’s your aunt? I want to be sure to thank her for the invitation.”
“She’s probably in the kitchen.”
Will looked at the swinging door that led to the kitchen just as Nora came through it. As if on cue, Will’s stomach tightened and her mouth went dry. Did she have to be so freaking beautiful? Will got the sense she wasn’t even trying, but the deep green blouse and skirt that fell to her knees just about brought Will to her knees. She swallowed and tried to focus her attention on the desserts.
The sight of Will, standing at the buffet with Graham, stopped Nora in her tracks. She’d known Will would be there, but it didn’t seem to stop Nora’s reaction to her. Her very inappropriate, inconvenient reaction. She squared her shoulders and tried to shake it off. “Hello, Will. I’m glad you were able to join us.”
Will made eye contact with her and smiled. “Thank you for inviting me. I feel like I should confess, though, that I’ve technically already had dessert.”
The casualness of the comment offset the intensity in Will’s eyes. Nora took a deep breath and waved a hand. She could do this. “There are no rules on Thanksgiving, at least when it comes to pie.”
“That’s good to hear. When it comes to sweets, I have absolutely no shame.” Will added a wedge of cheesecake to the slice of apple pie already on her plate. “And your spread is a thing of beauty.”
Graham laughed and Nora smiled. She couldn’t deny Will was charming. What she wanted to know was whether or not there was an angle to it. And since Graham didn’t seem to have a suspicious bone in her body, Nora had to be suspicious enough for the both of them.
“Ms. Calhoun, would it be possible to get a glass of milk for Brandon?”
Nora turned her attention and found Amy, one of her guests, smiling at her. “Of course. And, please, call me Nora.”
“Thank you, Nora.”
Nora went into the kitchen for the milk. By the time she returned, Will and Graham were chatting with Martha and Heidi. Great. That’s just what she needed. Convinced things would be better if she chaperoned, she crossed the room to join them.
“We hear you’ve got two of the upstairs rooms done,” Heidi said.
Nora nodded. “They look great. You’ll have to stop by when there’s no one in them to check them out.”
“And that would be…” Martha raised a brow.
“I’ve got a couple of empty weekdays in mid-December.”
“We’re hoping to get the last upstairs room painted before I leave,” Graham said.
“But it’s okay if you don’t.” Nora still didn’t like the idea of Graham feeling like she needed to earn her keep.
“Did you know Will builds stuff?”
Nora looked from Martha, who’d spoken, to Will. “You do?”
“Nothing major. Bookshelves mostly.” Despite the modesty of her words, the smile Will flashed was all confidence. It gave Nora a ripple of pleasure she did her best to ignore.
Graham chimed in. “She’s helping her sister build a loft bed for…”
“Liam, my nephew. At least I imagine he’ll be my nephew soon enough.”
“Interesting.” Martha narrowed her eyes and nodded.
Nora caught one of her guests trying to make eye contact with her. She hated to leave this conversation—she was learning things—but guests came first. She excused herself to find out what they needed.
One task turned into five and, before she knew it, her friends were getting ready to leave. She thought Will might linger, but apparently she’d picked up a few hours at one of the stores for the busy shopping weekend. The three of them walked out together, but not before Martha could elbow her in the ribs and angle her head at Will suggestively. Nora rolled her eyes, but laughed, and sent them on their way.
Chapter Eight
After checking out the last of her guests, Nora locked the front door and made the short walk to The Flour Pot. Martha stood out front, studying something in the window of the shop next door. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” Nora said.
“Not at all. Heidi’s working today and I came to town early to get groceries and take a stroll.”
“Woman of leisure, eh?”
“I’ve got a double shift this weekend, thank you very much.”
“Well then, you’ve more than earned a lunch date. Shall we?”
“After you.” Martha bowed dramatically.
Nora walked into the café. The warm air and aroma of freshly baked bread enveloped her. She inhaled deeply. “I love the smell of bread someone else has baked.”
Martha elbowed her in the ribs. “That’s exactly how I feel every time I come to your house.”
Nora laughed. They walked up to the counter and greeted Alex.
&nb
sp; “Hello, ladies. What can I get for you today?”
Nora perused the menu board. “Soup for me. Tomato basil I think.”
Martha nodded slowly. “Same. And coffee.”
“Yes. Me, too.”
“Coming right up.” Alex totaled their order. Martha paid, insisting it was her turn, then they carried their lunch to one of the empty tables.
“I forget how quiet it gets at this time of year. I should come into town more often.”
Nora sampled her soup. As with most of the offerings at The Flour Pot, it was delicious. “You should.”
“Especially since you’re more tied down.”
Nora didn’t like to think of it as being tied down, but winter often came with less flexibility in her schedule. She had fewer guests, but no staff to back her up. That meant she only got out when she had no guests at all. “You know you’re always welcome at my house.”
“I do, but it’s nice to have someone else do the cooking, isn’t it?”
Nora swirled a piece of sourdough bread in her soup. “It is.”
“So, I owe you a thank you.”
“You’re welcome. What for?”
“Heidi and I decided to hire Will to paint our kitchen and living room.”
Nora choked on her soup. She cleared her throat and took a sip of coffee, grateful to avoid a full-on coughing fit. “You did?”
“Why do you sound so surprised? I thought things were going well.”
“Yes, but…” But what? There was no reason for her to be surprised. Or to have a problem with it. But something about it didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t like the idea of Will spending time with her friends. It felt like Will was creeping more and more into her life.
“Is there something you didn’t tell us? Are you concerned about something?”
“No.” Nora was concerned, but not in the way Martha meant. She shook her head, trying not to reveal just how annoyed the news made her.
“Are we taking her away from work at your place? I thought you had guests on and off through Christmas.”
“You aren’t taking her away from me. It’s—” What was it?
Martha looked at her expectantly. “It’s what?”
Nora drummed her fingers on the table. “It’s weird. That’s all.”
Martha dunked a piece of bread in her soup. “You yourself said she did good work. Not to mention being nice to look at while doing said work.”
Nora looked at her food, suddenly not hungry. “Jesus, Martha. She’s practically a child.”
“I don’t think she’s as young as you think. Besides, I’m not trying to sleep with her or anything.”
Nora rubbed her hands over her face. “That’s not what I meant.”
“So, what did you mean?” Martha narrowed her eyes for a moment, then sat up straight and opened them wide. “You’re trying to sleep with her.”
“Are you out of your mind?” She couldn’t decide if she found Martha’s insinuation ridiculous or insulting.
Martha lifted both hands. “Sorry, sorry. Not trying. But you want to. And it’s pissing you off.”
Nora folded her arms. “I think she wants to sleep with Graham. That’s what’s pissing me off.”
“Oh.” Martha nodded slowly.
“And I’m pretty sure Graham has a little bit of a thing for her. I don’t want Graham to fall into the same trap I did.” That was it. Nora kept a nice cushion around her heart, so it couldn’t possibly be her own feelings that had her riled up.
Martha’s expression softened. “What makes you think it’s a trap? Or that Graham would fall into it?”
“You don’t think Will looks like Jordyn?” Other than her sister, Martha was the only person who knew her entire history with Jordyn, from the whirlwind affair to the fact that it crashed and burned, taking the bulk of her savings with it. They had an unspoken agreement not to discuss it, but Martha could sense when shadows of the heartbreak crept in.
Martha took a deep breath and Nora got the feeling she was choosing her words carefully. “There’s a faint resemblance, maybe, but nothing more.”
“Physically, yes. But beyond that. She appeared out of nowhere and took some random seasonal job. Now she’s sticking around and insinuating herself into Graham’s life.”
Martha shook her head. “I didn’t get that sense at all. When she was at our house, she spent half the time talking about her sister and the work she was doing at her and her girlfriend’s new house.”
Nora frowned. The little she knew of Will’s sister had come from Graham. Of course, she went out of her way not to be alone with Will. Maybe she was overreacting. “I didn’t know that.”
“Nora, what’s really going on?”
She appreciated that Martha didn’t lay it out there for her, or presume she knew exactly what Nora was feeling. Still, she had a way of getting right to the point of things, leaving Nora little place to hide. “She’s gotten under my skin, I guess. Reminds me of Jordyn. And I’m not sure if I should be worried on Graham’s behalf or my own.”
Martha nodded sympathetically. “That, at least, I can understand. And I’m sorry.”
Nora allowed her shoulders to slump. “I just hate being susceptible to it.”
“Are you talking about actual risk or the fact that your brain can’t help but to go there?”
“I guess it’s both. I thought I was done with drama and intrigue.”
Martha put her elbow on the table and propped her chin on her fist. “Are you sure you aren’t borrowing trouble?”
“I’d rather borrow it than be caught unaware.”
“That’s fair. But I hate for you to be worrying about something that is probably nothing.”
Nothing. Nora repeated the word in her mind. It was nothing. Graham would be gone soon. And Will wouldn’t be in her house or in her mind anymore. Why didn’t that make her feel better? “You’re right.”
“Thank you.” Martha smirked, but then looked at Nora with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Nora nodded. “Absolutely. I’m sorry if I overreacted. I’m excited for you to redecorate.”
“Me, too. Even if part of me is worried Heidi will get a bee in her bonnet and want to redo the whole house.”
“It can be addictive.”
Martha shook her head. “Please don’t tell me that.”
They finished lunch and walked along Commercial Street. Nora window-shopped. She’d bought Graham’s Christmas gift, but still needed something for her sister and brother-in-law. At Martha’s car, they exchanged hugs. “We’re on for New Year’s, right?”
Martha grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it. Are you sure there’s nothing we can bring?”
“Sure. It’s the one time of the year I throw a party that’s more for my friends than my guests. I want you to have a good time.”
“We always do. Speaking of, did you invite Will?”
She hadn’t, but she imagined Graham would want to. Maybe she could extend the invitation to Emerson and Darcy. She’d wanted to meet the woman who did the cooking at the Flour Pot. For that matter, she should invite Alex and Lia, too. “I will. The more the merrier, right?”
Martha gave her a quizzical look, but only said, “So I hear.”
* * *
A flurry of last-minute bookings prevented Will and Graham from tackling the final room upstairs. Will hung out with Graham a couple of times, but Nora remained elusive. Will didn’t doubt Nora was busy, but she missed seeing her.
On one of those days, a snowy afternoon mid-December, Will and Graham hunkered down in the library with books and cups of hot tea. They’d shared lunch with Nora, but after issuing an invitation to her annual New Year’s Eve party, she cited work and vanished into the kitchen.
“You’ll come to the party, right?” Graham’s face looked more worried than hopeful.
“Of course I’ll come. Why wouldn’t I?” Nora had included Emerson and Darcy, and commented that she planned to invite Lia and Alex as well.
Graham sighed. “Things have been a little weird is all.”
Will kept her face blank. “Weird how?”
Graham sighed again, this time with an exasperated look on her face. “You and Nora. You’re perfectly normal until you’re in the same room together. And then you both get quiet and awkward. Every time.”
Will knew what Graham was referring to. The problem was that she had no idea why or what to do about it. She was starting to worry Nora could barely tolerate her. And it wasn’t even like Will had made a pass at her and been shut down. On top of that, Nora’s dislike of her seemed to alternate with genuine friendliness. The inconsistency got worse as time went on rather than better. Even still, Will craved being around her. And every now and then, she’d swear she caught Nora staring at her with something that looked an awful lot like desire. It was confusing. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. I know you don’t want to talk about it, though, and that’s fine. As long as you’re coming.”
“I am.”
“And you’ll bring your sister and Darcy, too?”
“I will. Although I hope Nora didn’t feel obligated.”
“No.” Graham laughed. “I think it might have to do with wanting us to feel like there are some people our age there.”
Now Will laughed. “It’s a nice gesture, but I doubt that’s the reason. I’m pretty sure I’m closer to her age than yours.”
Graham frowned. Actually, it was more of a pout.
“What?”
“You’re not that much older than me.”
Will scratched her temple. “How old are you?”
Graham crossed her arms. “Aren’t you not supposed to ask a lady that?”
“I don’t think the rules apply when said lady is under the age of twenty-five.”
“I could be older than twenty-five.”
Will raised a brow.
“Fine. I’m twenty-three.”
“And I’m thirty-four, so there.”
“Well, Aunt Nora is forty-eight, so I still win.”
Will tried to hide her surprise. She wouldn’t have pegged Nora as much—if at all—over forty. Not that it made Nora any less appealing. It did, however, make her point moot. “You’ll learn that age difference matters less as you get older.”