Love Lessons in Good Hope : A Good Hope Novel Book 14

by Cindy Kirk

  Adam wanted to ask how she defined success now. He had the feeling he already knew—by the amount of money she earned. He’d once held the same view, but Stan had helped him see success was more than a high bank balance.

  That seemed too heavy a topic for a backyard party. Besides, Charlotte—and the baby—needed nourishment. “I’d make all of your dreams come true if I could. The best I can do right now is to get you some food. What will it be…burger or brat?”

  Charlotte finished off the last of her burger and felt her tension dissolve. She’d never had such a strong reaction to a simple meal. A perfectly cooked burger, fresh fruit and one bite of Adam’s brownie, and suddenly all was right in her world.

  The sunshine and blue skies probably played a part, as did the easy conversation. She watched Adam from beneath lowered lashes as he and accountant Max Brody discussed organic systems and challenging weather conditions.

  Charlotte’s lips quirked as she thought how she’d once pursued Max.

  He didn’t hold a candle to Adam in looks. Though he was attractive, she realized Max’s blond hair and blue eyes paled in comparison to Adam’s dark hair and eyes.

  “What about the salon?” Max asked.

  Charlotte blinked. Thank goodness she’d never been the type to blush, or she’d be doing it now. How embarrassing to be caught—almost—crushing on Adam like a besotted teenage girl.

  “Max is wondering if you’ve considered going with more natural products in your salon.” The barely disguised twinkle in Adam’s eyes told Charlotte he realized she’d been caught off guard. This was him tossing her a lifeline.

  “We offered several lines of natural products at my San Diego salon,” Charlotte explained. “Many of my clients wouldn’t use anything else.” She jerked a thumb in Adam’s direction. “They were like this guy.”

  Max chuckled. “Prim and I got on board the natural bandwagon several years ago. We like the idea of not exposing our children and ourselves to those additives.”

  Charlotte thought of the baby growing inside her. The idea of keeping things natural in all aspects of her life held appeal. In terms of the salon…

  Though Charlotte knew both she and her partner had their favorite natural brands, nothing said they couldn’t offer even more choices throughout the salon. “I’ll discuss increasing our offerings with Marigold.”

  Max gave her the thumbs-up, then turned back to Adam. “Stan mentioned something about chicken manure.”

  Charlotte wrinkled her nose. Time to make an exit. She gave Adam’s arm a squeeze. “I’m going to mingle.”

  His eyes searched hers. What he saw must have reassured him, because he nodded. “I’ll catch up with you.”

  Charlotte disposed of her now-empty plate and glanced around the yard. She knew most of the people, but on a more superficial level.

  Which was how she rolled. When she thought back to her friends in San Diego, she realized most of their discussions had centered around fashion, popular nightspots and men.

  At the moment, she couldn’t think of one friend she’d feel comfortable talking to about her pregnancy fears or her concerns over how she was going to make everything work once she had the baby.

  She would make it work. There hadn’t been a challenge tossed in her path she hadn’t been able to navigate. “A step at a time” was her mantra each time she tackled a new challenge.

  What seemed impossible one day turned out to be manageable when taken in tiny, bite-sized chunks.

  “Welcome back.” Delphinium Rakes, Marigold’s sister, stepped up to her.

  Fin, as she was commonly known, was married to Good Hope’s former mayor, Jeremy Rakes. The last time Charlotte had been in Good Hope, Fin had been living in Los Angeles and working for a film development company.

  Charlotte wasn’t exactly sure what had brought the woman back to Good Hope, or how she’d ended up staying after being gone nearly a decade. By all accounts, it appeared she was home to stay.

  She’d married Jeremy, and five months ago, they’d had a baby boy. Fin had gotten pregnant again shortly after giving birth and was now expecting baby number two.

  Despite all her family obligations, she still managed to handle public relations for Good Hope.

  Of all the Bloom sisters, Fin was the one with whom Charlotte could most easily identify. Today seemed the perfect opportunity to pick the woman’s brain.

  “It’s a little strange to be back.” Charlotte took a sip from her water bottle and studied Fin. Despite a rather pronounced baby bump, Fin retained that big-city shine. Her twist-front maternity dress in a leopard print was both stylish and chic.

  Everything about the woman spoke of cool confidence, from the shiny blunt-cut hair that brushed her shoulders, to her artfully applied makeup.

  “I imagine the transition was a difficult one for you as well.” Charlotte spoke casually, fighting the urge to pepper Fin with questions.

  Fin studied Charlotte with inscrutable green eyes. “Are you having a difficult transition?”

  Charlotte fought annoyance. She was trying to make conversation, and what had Fin done? She’d deftly redirected the question back to Charlotte.

  “I’ve lived in larger communities all my life.” Charlotte offered a smile. “The thing I like about Good Hope is that, because of the tourism, it offers more than most small towns.”

  Fin’s red lips curved ever so slightly. If Charlotte had hoped to gloss over Fin’s question, she sensed it wasn’t going to work.

  “The community offers a lot, but small towns aren’t for everyone.” Fin cocked her head. “My sister has a lot at stake in her partnership with you. If you’re having concerns about sticking, you should let her know.”

  Charlotte bristled. She had no doubt Fin would relay every detail of this conversation to her younger sister. And likely stress Marigold needlessly.

  “I don’t have concerns about sticking.” Her tone was as cool as Fin’s had been only seconds earlier. “Since you moved back after a lengthy stay in LA, I was hoping to get a few pointers on how to navigate a smooth transition. No worries. I’m adept at figuring things out for myself.”

  Charlotte turned, but Fin’s hand on her arm stopped her.

  “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.” The eyes that met Charlotte’s now held a hint of warmth. “My bad. I assumed too much. My protective instincts sometimes get the better of me.”

  “I can understand that,” Charlotte said.

  “It was a difficult transition,” Fin admitted, and her eyes took on a faraway look. “There were so many things I loved about living in Los Angeles. Ami and I are closest in age. While she always loved it here, I couldn’t wait to venture out. Which is what I did, until circumstances brought me back for what I thought was a short time.”

  “You ended up staying.”

  “I did.” Fin’s hand moved to her baby mound, then her gaze drifted to where her husband stood, holding their infant son in his arms while he chatted with her father. A soft look filled her eyes.

  “Did you stay because of Jeremy?” Charlotte wasn’t sure why she pressed the issue. Unless it was because every time she thought about staying in Good Hope because her baby’s father was here, she felt trapped.

  “Partially.” Fin lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “In high school, Jeremy and I were inseparable. We broke up right before he left for college. I never got over him, not fully. I assumed it was because he was my first love. You know how that can be.”

  “I’ve never been in love,” Charlotte admitted.

  Fin looked at Charlotte and paused before continuing with her story.

  “I was engaged when I returned to Good Hope.” Fin shook her head. “I thought this big-city guy who wielded power like a light saber was the man for me. My friends envied me. They thought we were the perfect couple. I think—heck, I know now, I was more in love with who he was, rather than him.”

  “You broke it off and went back to Jeremy.”

  �
��My heart always belonged to Jeremy.” Fin’s lips curved. “For me, the transition back to small-town living was easier because I grew up here. My family is here. I’m close to my dad and my sisters. Now, I can be a part of my nieces’ and nephew’s lives in a way I couldn’t from a distance.”

  “I don’t have that here.” Charlotte’s laugh held a tinny edge. “I don’t have anyone.”

  “You have Adam.” Fin glanced to where the farmer spoke with Max.

  “I meant girlfriends and family.” Charlotte wasn’t about to get into discussing her complicated relationship with Adam.

  “I don’t know about you, but my relationships in the city were more surface-only.” Fin lifted her hands, then let them drop. “Probably my issue. Some of the women I considered friends may have been willing to be closer. But most of them were in the same industry, and the truth is I never knew who I could trust.”

  “Confiding in anyone doesn’t come easy for me.” The realization took Charlotte by surprise. Not because she’d thought she was the confiding sort. She did fine keeping her own counsel. Until now, she hadn’t considered how she’d deliberately cultivated a distance between herself and others.

  “I understand.”

  When Fin’s strong and steady green eyes met hers, Charlotte believed this woman did understand. Even better, she didn’t condemn.

  “I suggest you find someone you believe you can trust. Then share a little of your inner thoughts and feelings.”

  Charlotte inwardly recoiled at the idea.

  Though Charlotte hadn’t said a word, Fin chuckled. “I realize it’s scary. That’s why you take it slow and maybe feed that person bits of information at a time. See how it goes.”

  “I suppose I could do that,” Charlotte grudgingly agreed. “Though I’m not sure what the point would be.”

  “The point is there’s a certain beauty in connections.” Fin paused. “In the bonding that occurs when we share what really matters to us, rather than keep a relationship at a superficial level. You and I, we’ve dipped a bit below that today. It feels good.”

  Charlotte nodded and realized Fin was right. She offered a tentative smile.

  “I believe you’ll find, as I did, that the longer you’re in Good Hope, the more connections you’ll build. You have only to open yourself up to the possibilities.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Adam slanted Charlotte a sideways glance as they strolled down the sidewalk toward the business district. “You and Fin seemed to hit it off.”

  “She’s different than I thought,” Charlotte admitted, then diverted. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “I did.”

  Charlotte heard the question in his comment. “I did, too. Thanks for coming with me.”

  He took her arm. “We’re a couple. Remember?”

  For now, she nearly added, then reconsidered as she remembered Fin’s words. They’d been talking about female friends, but if she and Adam were going to become the kind of friends capable of raising a baby together, she needed to let him in, just a little.

  “Fin and I discussed friendships,” she told him. “I mentioned that I find it difficult to share my feelings. She said that building connections usually works best if you take it in baby steps.”

  “Fin Rakes said the words ‘baby steps’?” Adam’s gaze turned skeptical. “Granted, I don’t know her all that well, but that doesn’t sound like her.”

  Charlotte waved a dismissive hand. “Those might not be her exact words, but you get the gist.”

  Adam came to an abrupt stop and held a finger up to his lips.

  Only then did Charlotte hear the sound of male voices—kids’ voices?—and loud laughter.

  “Stay here.” Adam spoke in a low tone.

  Before he could make a move, three teenagers stumbled out of the park, pushing and shoving at each other the way boys that age were prone to do.

  “Cody. A word, please.” The command in Adam’s voice had one of the boys straightening.

  His choppily cut blond hair hung in his eyes. “I told you to call me Treach.”

  The other two boys exchanged glances, then did some kind of handshake. “Later, man.”

  The one called Treach stepped up to Adam with his chin lifted in a defiant tilt. He didn’t spare Charlotte a glance. “You want something?”

  “What were you boys doing?” Adam gestured with his head toward the park.

  As they now stood near the entrance, Charlotte glanced inside the open gate. By any standards, it was a small park with only a few swings, an old-fashioned metal slide and a merry-go-round, all surrounded by a black wrought-iron fence gilded with gold. The perfectly manicured bushes sculpted into mythical creatures took her by surprise.

  The boy shoved his hands into his pockets. “We didn’t do nothin’.”

  “Did you harm anything in the park?” Adam’s direct question demanded a direct answer.

  “No.” Treach shook his head. “We just pushed each other on the merry-go-round. You know, for kicks.”

  If not for the way the tips of the boy’s ears reddened, Charlotte might not have believed him.

  Adam gave a nod. “It’s late. Time for you to head home.”

  “My mom is working.” Treach glanced away. “Nothing to do there.”

  “Get some sleep. Stan has a new project he wants you to help with. We’ll see you at eight.”

  “Eight?” The boy’s eyes widened. “That’s cracked.”

  “Cracked or not, that’s when we need you.”

  “Cracked,” Treach muttered again as he loped off.

  “Sorry about that.” Adam offered an apologetic smile. “Give me a minute. I need to make sure nothing was damaged.”

  The only signs someone had been there were a couple of soda cans by the merry-go-round. Adam scooped them up and dropped them into a wire trash can.

  “Shall we sit for a few?”

  As Charlotte had spent the past couple of hours standing, sitting held appeal. She expected Adam to sit on a bench flanked by two sculpted unicorns.

  Instead, he wandered to one of the u-shaped rubber swings and took a seat.

  Feeling a little foolish, Charlotte sat in the next swing. Despite her initial hesitation, she found herself swaying back and forth.

  “It’s odd you mentioned the idea of sharing feelings,” he began.

  She held up a hand. “I wasn’t hinting that we needed to have some hot and heavy discussion.”

  “Understood.” He chuckled. “I was just going to say that your conversation with Fin mirrors one I had with Ryder.”

  Ryder Goodhue, owner of a chain of coffee shops, including The Daily Grind in Good Hope, had recently married Trinity McConnell, a psychologist at the local counseling center. Trinity’s brother Wyatt was married to Greer, Marigold’s stepsister and the current mayor.

  The connections in this town made Charlotte’s head spin. Forget six degrees of separation. In this town, it was two or three.

  “Ryder gave these to me.” Adam pulled a deck of cards out of one pocket. “He insisted I take them.”

  “He gave you a pack of playing cards?”

  “Wish it was that simple.” Adam chuckled. “These are relationship cards.”

  Charlotte formed a cross with the forefinger of each hand.

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  “Yet, you hold them in your hand.” Charlotte pointed.

  “Ryder refused to take them back. Absolutely refused.” Adam blew out a breath. “These cards have made the rounds among couples in Good Hope. Ryder got his ears scorched from Gladys for not forwarding them on to Clay and Bea. He promised her he’d move them along before the end of the party.”

  “You expect me to believe Ryder just happened to be carrying around playing—oh, excuse me—relationship cards.” Charlotte shook her head. “Sounds fishy.”

  “Trinity had them in her purse. Apparently, when she saw us together, she gave the pack to him to give to me.”

  “What
are you supposed to do with them?” Charlotte leaned back in the swing, her hair waving in the ever-so-slight breeze. She inhaled deeply, loving the fresh scent of pine in the evening air.

  “Not me. Us. We have to each answer the questions on three of them. I think the same three, though Ryder didn’t specify.”

  Charlotte turned her head toward Adam. “Are they going to send the relationship police after us if we don’t do it?”

  “Hey,” Adam lifted his hands, “don’t shoot the messenger. All I know is nearly every couple at the barbecue has been through these cards.”

  “Except for Clay and Bea, who managed to slide by.”

  “Only because Ryder and Trinity failed in their duty to pass them along.”

  Only in Good Hope, Charlotte thought, hiding a smile, would they be having this discussion.

  Just say no was her first impulse. Then she thought about her conversation with Fin. Okay, so maybe the woman hadn’t said the words baby steps. Charlotte simply had baby on the brain. But the advice held true.

  “I suppose we could try one. If it’s not too painful, we’ll move on to another.” Even as she said it, Charlotte hoped she wouldn’t regret the decision.

  Surprise skittered across Adam’s face. “You’re willing to play?”

  “Let’s sit at the picnic table.” Charlotte pushed to her feet. “I want to shuffle the cards. I don’t trust that Ryder and Trinity didn’t stack the deck by placing the most difficult ones on top.”

  “Smart thinking.” He stood, but instead of crossing immediately to the table, he tugged her to him.

  His arms slipped around her, not confining but comfortable.

  Charlotte found herself relaxing enough in his embrace to rest her head against his broad chest. His fingers stroked her hair until she felt like purring.

  Relaxing, she listened to the steady thump of his heart.

  Finally, as a languid warmth filled her body, they strolled with their fingers linked to the metal picnic table.

  Adam waited for her to sit, then took a seat, staring at the deck as if it were a snake ready to strike. “Or, if you want, we could wait?”