An Unexpected Love Story (Love Story Book Two)

by Schurig, Rachel

  “That might be true if I hadn’t done it to try and piss you off,” he said, his voice somewhat bitter. “I wanted you to notice me again, even if it was just to be pissed. I knew it would hurt you, and I did it anyhow. I’m sorry.”

  I stepped back, out of his arms, so I could look up at his face. “She was right,” I admitted. “What she said about me. I did use you. I didn’t mean to, but I did it.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Paul said firmly. “You just didn’t know what you wanted.”

  He was right, of course. All this time I thought I knew what I wanted, but I had been wrong. About all of it. How stupid I had been, to equate love with excitement and flash. Real love wasn’t about how exciting someone was, or how sophisticated. Real love was about knowing someone, truly knowing them, about wanting their happiness as much as your own. It was about enjoying the same things, about agreeing on what was important, about what mattered to you. Real love meant sharing all of yourself, not just pieces, with another person, with someone who understood you and accepted you, faults and all. Someone who would defend you, someone who always had your back.

  With crystal clear certainty I could see it now, the life I wanted, stretched out in front of me, just waiting for me to grab it.

  “I know what I want now,” I whispered, feeling dizzy and scared and happy all at the same time.

  “You do?” he asked, and I saw him swallow as I took another step closer.

  “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.”

  He was close enough to touch now, so I did the only thing that made sense. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

  As he pulled me into his arms and kissed me back, the dizzy feeling didn’t go away. But I decided, for once in my life, to stop fighting my feelings. Instead, I gave in, letting the dizziness and the joy engulf me, knowing Paul would still be there holding me when it was over.

  It was funny. I had kissed Paul a hundred times over the years—he’d even seen me naked on several occasions. But somehow, kissing him now, I felt completely exposed. Vulnerable. Shy, even.

  “Brooke,” he whispered against my mouth. Something in the tone of his voice made my stomach hurt—in the best way possible. He sounded so happy, so relieved. “It feels different now,” he said. “Doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered back. “Why do you think that is?”

  He pulled back slightly and smiled—a face splitting, joyful smile. “Because this time it’s real.”

  I smiled back—I couldn’t help it—then leaned forward for another kiss. As my lips melted into his, I realized that he was right. It was real now. Real and unexpected and totally right. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Epilogue

  “How you doing?” Paul asked, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching as I struggled with my hair.

  “I can’t get it to just—be—straight!” I cried, throwing down my brush.

  Paul came behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “It doesn’t need to be straight,” he soothed. “Let it be. You look great.”

  I sighed and leaned back against him. “I’m just stressed. Not that I really have any reason to be, seeing as how we have like, two guests this weekend.”

  “You want to end it on a high note,” he said, kissing my ear. “I get it. Why don’t you come and eat some breakfast? I cooked for you.”

  I looked at him in alarm. Last week I had allowed him to make us mac and cheese for dinner and had ended up with a watery mess of noodles and bright orange globs. Paul laughed at my expression. “It’s okay, I tried some first. Come on.”

  In the kitchen, Paul led me proudly to the small dining table, on which stood a large vase of flowers and a handmade card wishing me luck.

  “Did you do all this?” I asked, grinning at the pure cheesiness of it. Paul had never been one for the big romantic gesture, but my reaction to the lilacs had convinced him of the potential benefit for himself when he played the romance card.

  “I did indeed, Murray. Nothing but the best for my girl.”

  I peeked into one of the bowls to find sticky-looking oatmeal dotted with nuts and berries. “Yum,” I lied. “Oatmeal is my favorite.”

  Paul laughed. “Liar,” he said. “You don’t have to eat it.”

  “Oh, thank you, babe,” I said, turning to put my arms around his neck. “Can we stop for donuts instead?”

  Paul kissed me. “Sure thing. But we should get going, if we need to stop.” He looked down at his watch. “Can’t be late for work. My boss is totally scary when I’m late.”

  “You’re not even working this morning. Besides, I hear your boss is an amazing and beautiful woman,” I said, following him out of his apartment.

  “Yeah, she’s okay,” he said, earning him a smack on the arm.

  Paul was planning on spending his morning at the new inn, sanding the hardwood floors. I wished I could go with him; he got all sweaty when he worked and could usually be counted on to take off his shirt. It was fun to watch.

  “You ready for this?” Paul asked, pulling up in front of Murray Inn. I looked up at the familiar façade, feeling a stab of pain and regret. “I guess so,” I said.

  “It will be fine,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Just think of the good things to come.”

  “I will,” I promised, kissing him back. “See you at lunch?” He nodded and I climbed out of the truck.

  I was surprised by the bustle in the lobby. It was the first day of our final weekend, and I was expecting a low-key, bummed-out atmosphere. We only had a few rooms booked for the weekend, and most of the staff was already gone. But inside I found several staff members hurrying around, carrying linens and boxes back to the restaurant.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Bonnie, approaching the desk.

  She shrugged. “No idea. I guess people just want to make sure the last weekend is a good one.”

  “Hmm,” I said, still feeling like something wasn’t quite right. Regardless, I headed back to my office. I had some emails to answer and calls to make that I hoped would keep my mind off things.

  I was only in my office for an hour or so when my mom came in—without knocking, of course. “Sweetie, I was wondering if you could run a few errands for me.”

  “Seriously, Mom?” I gestured at my desk. “I am still working here, you know.”

  “It’s for the inn, silly,” she said. She held out a list. “I need you to pick up those items. I’d do it myself, but your father and I are so busy. Friends keep stopping by the restaurant. Everyone wants to wish us well. It’s nice, you know, but getting to be a bit much. For your dad especially, I think he would just as soon be done with it all—”

  “Okay, Mom, I’ll go,” I said, jumping up. Anything to make her stop talking. I thought I caught sight of a little smile on her face as she handed me the list, but then she was turning to leave and I figured I must have imagined it.

  I looked down at her list. It would take me hours to complete this. It appeared as if she wanted me to buy little gifts for every person who had ever worked here in the history of the inn. I shook my head and headed out to my truck.

  Just as I expected, it took me until lunchtime to track down each item. She was very specific in her notes. No sooner had I pulled up to the inn than I saw her rushing down the steps to me. “Sweetie, I know you just got back, but I really need you to run to the bank for me. And then Daddy was really hoping Mrs. Miller could make that custard he likes tonight, since it’s almost the last night, but she says she can’t without real vanilla, and I just called the grocery store and they don’t have any, so I thought maybe you could run to Lewiston while you were out.”

  “Mom, that’s an hour away!” I cried. “I haven’t even had any lunch yet.”

  “Oh, well Paul called and wanted you to meet him at the deli. I just figured you could go eat first and then head out to the bank for me.”

  I sighed. I had wanted to eat at the inn that day,
and was slightly annoyed at Paul for not realizing that. I was fast running out of chances to sit in that dining room with Paul and my parents and Kellie and the rest of the staff. But the look on her face told me it was useless to argue. I got back in my truck and headed into town to meet Paul.

  “She’s had me running all over town today,” I muttered to him. “I haven’t been in the building since nine a.m.”

  “She probably just wants everything perfect for dinner tonight,” he said.

  “I know, I want the last two days to go well, too. But it’d be nice if I actually got to be there for them, you know? I thought we’d eat there today. Don’t you have to work?”

  “Shirley wanted a last shift,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I needed to get some supplies for the floor in town, so I figured it’d be easier to meet here. Sorry.” He reached for my hand across the table. “Did you hear anything from the contractor today?”

  “Not yet.” I got the feeling he was trying to distract me from something, but at his words, I couldn’t help but automatically look at my phone. “They said they’d have the estimates to me by three.”

  “I can’t wait to hear what they say,” he said, rubbing his fingers across my knuckles.

  “Me, too,” I said, feeling a familiar flash of excitement. Plans for The Lilac Inn were coming along as well as I could have hoped. Today the contractor was supposed to send me final estimates and we’d be able to find out if I could actually afford everything I wanted. “God, I hope we don’t have to lose the claw-foot tubs,” I said.

  “We won’t,” Paul said confidently. “I have faith.”

  “You have hope,” I corrected. “Because you know you’ll be installing them yourself if their price is too high.”

  Paul gave a mock shudder and we finished lunch, discussing plans for the inn as I tried not to think about what was happening that weekend. Paul walked me out to my truck, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking down at me. “Drive careful, okay?”

  “I will,” I said.

  He kissed me soundly before sending me on my way and promising to meet me for the penultimate dinner at the inn at six.

  “At the inn,” I stressed. “Not somewhere else in town. Murray’s Inn, the place where you work, remember?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you there. Promise.”

  It took me nearly that long to finish my mom’s errands. She called me twice more while I was out to ask me to complete other random tasks. By the time I got back to the inn, I was feeling good and ticked off.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she said, meeting me in the lobby. “You look a little rumpled. Why don’t you head back to the apartment and take a shower.”

  “I look rumpled because you’ve had me driving all over the county today,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. It was hard to be rude to my mom, but I was about ready to give it a try. “I’d like to go in and get a drink, seeing as how we’re closing in two days and I haven’t been here all day.”

  “I’m sorry, Brooke,” she said, putting her arm around me and steering me in the direction of the apartment door. “I’ll bring you up a cocktail, how’s that? You can go up and take a bath, get fresh for dinner.”

  “Mom—”

  “Oh, don’t argue, dear. Dad and I invited a few friends for dinner. You don’t want to look all wrinkled, do you?”

  “Fine,” I said, deciding that a bath might be nice after all.

  She kissed my cheek. “Thank you for your help today. I promise you won’t have to leave the inn again for the rest of the weekend, if you don’t want to.”

  “Okay,” I grumbled, leaving her in the lobby.

  She was right; I did feel better after I’d taken a bath. Knowing Paul was downstairs and had been working hard all day, I decided to put forth some effort; I slipped into my favorite little black dress, a DKNY sheath I’d bought downstate the first time I’d gone to visit Emily. It hugged my curves without being too obvious about it, and looked great with a pair of purple stilettos that Paul loved. I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to decide if I should wear my hair up. In the end, I decided to leave it wild and curly down my back; it was just more me that way.

  I glanced at my watch, surprised to see it was already ten past six, and hurried down the stairs to meet Paul.

  I found him in the lobby—along with dozens of other people. A quick glance over the crowd told me it extended into the dining room. There must have been more than a hundred people in the inn.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Paul, flabbergasted by the sheer number of people. He beamed at me.

  “Why don’t you come see?”

  He led me through the lobby. Several people called out to me, wishing me luck and thanking me—for what I wasn’t sure. As we entered the restaurant, the entire room erupted in applause. I gazed around at the crowd, confused and overwhelmed. Slowly, I began to pick out individual faces from the masses. Mr. Donovan, Paul’s whole family, my aunts and uncles—I even thought I saw the mayor.

  “What is this?” I asked, reaching for Paul’s hand to steady myself.

  “Everyone wanted to come out and give this place the send off it deserves,” he said in my ear. “Half the town is here. Amongst others.”

  Just then I caught sight of Emily rushing across the room. She threw her arms around me. “Congratulations, Brooke,” she said, squeezing me hard. I hugged her back, still feeling confused.

  “For what?” I asked, pulling back to look at her face.

  “For this,” she said, waving around. “For everything you did here. Don’t you understand? We’re here to celebrate this place—and your family. Everyone here loves the inn, and we’re all going to miss it. We wanted to come out to thank you for all the years you’ve given us, all the memories.”

  I just stared at her. I couldn’t believe that these people had all shown up just to celebrate our little inn. I saw my parents approaching me through the crowd, both beaming.

  “Did you know about this?” I asked.

  My dad nodded happily. “People started calling weeks ago, asking how we were going to commemorate the end. We decided to throw a proper party and it seemed like everyone wanted to come. Lots of people even wanted to stay for the whole weekend. People from town, some regulars, people who haven’t been here in years, even. We’re all booked up, both nights.”

  The idea of the inn full for the weekend made a lump form in my throat. I had hated the idea of her standing mostly empty, as if abandoned, on her last nights.

  To cover my emotion, I looked at my dad sternly. “And you didn’t tell me about any of this?”

  My dad put his arm around me. “We wanted to do something for you for a change. You’ve been working so hard, for so long. We thought it’d be nice if you had the chance to just relax and enjoy this place, for once.”

  “Dad…” I was suddenly quite sure that I was going to cry. He wrapped me up in his arms, pulling me in tight the way he had when I was little.

  “Thank you, Brooke,” he whispered in my ear. “Thank you for everything.”

  * * *

  It was a great party. There was plenty of food for everyone, which we put out on several of the tables so that the wait staff could relax as well. Elliot and Chris, who had come up with Emily, even helped Paul tend the bar, so he could enjoy the party.

  “Are you happy?” he asked, catching me in a rare solitary moment. It seemed like everyone in the building wanted to tell me about their favorite memory at the inn. It was a little overwhelming, but extremely gratifying all the same. For the first time, I was starting to feel some peace about the whole thing. Just because the inn was gone wouldn’t mean that it was forgotten, not for the people who had loved it.

  “I’m pretty happy,” I told Paul, putting my arms around his waist so I could rest my head on his chest. “But sad, too.”

  “I figured as much,” he said, kissing my head. “Hey, what did the contractor say?”

  I gave him a triumphant smile. “I
get to keep the tubs,” I said.

  “Excellent,” he said, holding up his hand for a high five. “Like I told you, Brooke—just the way you want it.”

  “I just want them to get started,” I said. “I’m getting impatient.”

  “Are you saying I’m too slow?”

  “No, baby,” I said, patting his chest. “You’re doing a wonderful job. But a whole crew is bound to be a bit faster.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll be choosing paint colors in no time. And in the meantime, we have our trip next week.”

  I smiled. In the excitement of the night I had almost forgotten our trip. Now that the inn was closing, Paul had convinced me to take a real vacation for once, and we were heading to Cozumel in a matter of days, and would be back in plenty of time to oversee the work on the inn. I had never been out of the country before, and I could hardly wait. Paul said he wanted us to spend some real time together but I had a feeling he was also hoping to shield me from the sight of the inn’s demolition, which was to begin first thing on Monday.

  “I cannot wait for our trip,” I said. “I am less excited to move into that apartment when I get back.” Though Paul had encouraged me to just move in with him, I had resisted and had rented a cheap little place in town to stay in until the inn was done. I had a feeling that by the time the owner’s suite was ready, I wouldn’t be living in it alone.

  “You’ll be with me most of the nights anyhow,” Paul said confidently.

  “True. But the thought of my beloved clothes in that crappy apartment is all the more reason to get our inn done as soon as humanly possible.”

  “You’ll be in your suite and open in time for the fall color,” Paul assured me, pulling me back to his chest. “And we’ll throw you another party, just like this, to celebrate.”

  “There will never be another party like this,” I said, looking around at the gathered family and friends. Across the room I saw Chris and Ashley talking to Mr. Donovan. Emily was sitting with my parents, laughing about something. Elliot was behind the bar, pouring drinks. Paul’s parents were even there, slowly swaying over on the dance floor. Everyone looked happy—really, really happy.