Back to Before

by Tracy Solheim

  * * *

  Gavin was reluctant to leave her bed. But, he was even more determined to honor Ginger’s wish to keep their relationship a secret. He had to admit that she was right: The last thing either one of them needed was his mother—and everyone else in town—knowing the details of his sex life. Besides, he’d be spending a lot of time in Wilmington these next few weeks working with his two draftsmen, so it was best for everyone if he kept up the ruse about a girlfriend there.

  Dawn was breaking when he slipped out the back door of the quiet inn. Unfortunately, the sheriff picked the same moment to sneak out of his mother’s carriage house. Damn. The two men eyed each other warily.

  Gavin liked Lamar Hollister, both as a man and a sheriff. He had no problem with the idea of the sheriff being involved with his mother, just as long as he didn’t have to be confronted with the reality. Suddenly, Gavin could relate to Miles’ distaste of a week ago.

  Jingling the keys to his cruiser, Lamar took a swallow from his travel coffee mug. “Mornin’,” he finally said. For a moment, Gavin felt like he was standing in the high school football coach’s office after the coach had found out he and Will had been drag racing the night before. Shoving his hands in his pockets to ward off the chilly dawn, Gavin gave the sheriff a terse nod in answer to his greeting. He didn’t owe this man any explanation at all.

  “It’s nice of you to come by and check on the inn before work today,” Lamar said, his cool sheriff’s demeanor unruffled.

  Understanding dawned and Gavin released a small sigh of relief. “You, too.”

  “Give you a lift?” The sheriff gestured toward the car before taking another pull from his coffee mug.

  Gavin figured it would be easier to go on avoiding the obvious if he just walked back to his loft, but the sun was rising and it would be less likely that anyone in town would see him if he was sitting behind the tinted glass of the sheriff’s cruiser. “Sure.”

  Lamar had no sooner put the car in drive when he dropped his bombshell. “I’ve asked Patricia to marry me.”

  Double damn. Gavin was really starting to wish he’d stayed in Ginger’s bed fifteen minutes longer and risked getting caught by Cassidy or Lori—anything to avoid this conversation.

  “Uh . . .” Words completely failed him. Gavin wasn’t sure how he felt about his mother marrying again. Honestly, he hadn’t given the idea any thought. Ever. And he’d rather not have to now.

  The sheriff grinned. “That’s almost exactly the response I got from your mother last night when I asked her. Seems it must run in the family.”

  “So she didn’t give you an answer?” Relief raced through Gavin, at the same time making him feel a little guilty. Lamar obviously felt something for his mother and the last thing Gavin wanted was for her to break the sheriff’s heart. But he wasn’t sure how he felt about her marrying again so soon. He knew his brother Miles would hate it. His sister Kate would already be planning the wedding, but his youngest sister, Elle, had been living overseas since their father’s death. How would she feel coming home to a stepfather she’d never met? For that matter, what would Ryan say? He and their father had been barely speaking when Donald McAlister died, but that didn’t mean Ryan would want their mother replacing him so soon.

  “She’s thinking about it,” Lamar said as he pulled up to the curb and put the car in park. “I’m not asking your permission, here, Gavin. Your mother is a mature woman who can make up her own mind. I love her and I’m pretty damn sure she loves me.”

  A squeezing began at the base of Gavin’s neck. All this time he’d been okay with his mom being involved with a man who wasn’t his father, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about her loving that man. He was being childish, he knew, but knowing that didn’t make the feeling any less real.

  “I’m telling you this, Gavin,” the sheriff continued, “because I respect you. You’re levelheaded and fair. If she comes to you for advice, I hope you’ll keep an open mind. That’s all.” He eyed Gavin carefully as he took another sip of coffee.

  The sheriff had him by the balls. Gavin couldn’t say anything to his mother without revealing how he knew about the proposal. Leaning his head back against the headrest, he closed his eyes. If his mother was going to marry anyone—and that was a big if—Lamar Hollister wasn’t such a bad choice. The thought of the sheriff being around to take care of his mom actually was a bit liberating when Gavin considered it further. It would make his return to New York that much easier if his mother was happy and distracted.

  “Okay.” He opened his eyes and glanced at the sheriff. “If it’s what my mom wants, then I have nothing to object to. I’ll even run interference with the rest of the family if she wants.”

  “I’m not afraid of your brother.”

  Gavin laughed. “Good, then the pompous ass is all yours.” He offered his hand to the sheriff, who returned his handshake. “I hope it works out, Lamar.”

  “I’m a patient man, Gavin. I can wait for Patricia to come around. But I want her to make up her own mind.”

  Gavin nodded. “Thanks for the lift.” He slid out of the car just as Lois Carter rounded the corner, making her way to the Java Jolt.

  “Good morning, fellas,” she called. “What has you two handsome men up and out so early?”

  “Neighborhood watch,” both men answered at nearly the same time. Lamar shot him a sly grin. Gavin shut the car door and tapped on the roof before the sheriff drove off toward the station a few blocks away. He waved at Lois and made his way up to his loft feeling a little better about how things were playing out. Not only would his mother be spared the embarrassment of her husband’s poor financial decisions, but she might just end up with another fine man to finish out her life with. Yep, things were falling into place nicely.

  * * *

  “Ginger, can I have a word with you?” Patricia called from the veranda where she watched both Ginger and Cassidy climb the steps after their evening workout. Cassidy laughed at something Ginger said and Patricia felt her own lips curving up into a smile. It was nice to see the teenager relaxed and carefree—at least as relaxed and carefree as Cassidy could be considering her life situation. And to think that the actress who played evil Destiny Upchurch was responsible for the girl’s softening. From the time she arrived in town, Ginger had been a staunch defender of Cassidy, seeing through the girl’s rough exterior to the sensitive kid beneath.

  Patricia was uncomfortable that she’d misjudged the actress. She’d overreacted to Gavin’s interest in her and for that she was embarrassed. Evidently, her son did have someone in Wilmington; he’d been spending nearly all his free time there this past week. She felt a bit like a hypocrite hoping that whoever had captured her son’s attention was as compassionate as Ginger Walsh, but still she was relieved that he wouldn’t be disappointed when the show ended and he was left alone in Chances Inlet.

  Cassidy gave Patricia a wave as she headed upstairs to her room, presumably to shower. Ginger sat in the glider, her expression guarded. “What can I do for you,” she said politely.

  “I wanted to thank you,” Patricia began. “For helping Cassidy. She’s going through such a tough time right now and it’s nice of you to help her out.”

  “Even though I’m not from Chances Inlet?”

  Her question was sharp, but Patricia deserved the barb.

  “I’m sorry,” Ginger said, wringing her hands. “That was ungracious of me.”

  “No,” Patricia laughed. “It was actually more gracious than I deserve. You have a very kind and generous heart, Ginger, and I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize it earlier. I just wanted you to know that I’d like to be a part of Cassidy’s prom experience, too, if you’ll let me.”

  “Of course. I’m sure she’d like that very much.”

  “I also wanted to talk to you about Founders’ Day. I’m holding two rooms for the weekend because I wasn’t sure about the situation with Marissa Ryder. Will she be traveling alone? How many rooms will she actually need?
I thought about holding a room for Marvin Goldman but Diesel said he wouldn’t be attending the reveal party. It’s too bad because it would be such a boost to the inn to say he’d stayed here.”

  Ginger looked out into the yard. “I still haven’t heard a definitive yes or no from Marissa yet. “

  “Founders’ Day is six weeks away. We’ll need to know something soon.”

  “Yes, of course,” Ginger said, practically bouncing out of her seat. “I’ll call her agent tomorrow and see if I can pin her down. That way you don’t have to hold the rooms and risk losing the income on them.”

  Patricia stood, too. “Don’t worry about the rooms. Someone always shows up last minute needing a place to say. It would just be a nice feather in my cap to have the rich and famous stay here and later recommend it to their friends.”

  Ginger’s smile was strained. “Sure. I’ll have an answer for you as soon as I can. Good night, Mrs. McAlister.” She vanished into the inn.

  Anxiety gripped Patricia. Ginger was stalling. But why? Unfortunately, there was nothing left for Patricia to do but wait for Ginger to get back to her with Marissa’s answer.

  Slumping back into her chair, she contemplated a similar situation where someone was expecting a response. A week had gone by and she still hadn’t given Lamar an answer to his proposal. It’s just that it had been so darned unexpected. They’d been together for nearly a year now and Patricia had never once considered marrying again. She’d figured Lamar was happy keeping things simple, too. They both had grown children from their previous marriages so there really wasn’t any great need to tie the knot. Except that he seems to want to. Would she lose him if she said no? Could she stand to live without him?

  Patricia heaved a sigh, a lonely tear rolling down her face. The tree frogs sang a sad chorus as she hastily wiped it away. Lamar hadn’t mentioned his proposal or pestered her for an answer since the night he’d said the words. He’d told her he wouldn’t. In declaring his love, he also announced that he’d wait patiently for her to answer, however long it took. The problem was, Patricia didn’t have any idea when—or if—she could give him an answer.

  SEVENTEEN

  “I’m telling you, Diesel, we have to tell them Marissa isn’t coming.” Ginger leaned forward in her chair, pointing to an item on the diner’s menu. “Look at this! They’re even serving a special sandwich named after her.”

  Diesel snorted. “Yeah, I saw that. ‘The Savannah Delight.’ I love how it’s filled with ham and salami, but they should have added some bologna.” He winked at Ginger. “The flat bread is my favorite part. She was always so worried that she should have had her boobs made a size bigger.” He chuckled at his own joke.

  “This isn’t funny. Every store along Main Street has some sort of special deal celebrating the arrival of Savannah Rich. These people are really excited about her coming.”

  “I know.” His smile grew. “You’d think Princess Kate was riding in their little Founders’ Day parade. Who’s gonna buy all that junk?”

  Ginger rolled her eyes in frustration. “That’s the point. Folks are putting a lot of money and effort into this and they’re just going to be disappointed. Not to mention the hit to their pocketbooks. The network gets all the profit from the Historical Restorations paraphernalia they’re selling in the stores here. The town wants to be able to capitalize on something. I feel really guilty that I even started this.”

  “You didn’t start it.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “Bernice did. You’ve never said she was actually coming. I’ll let them down tomorrow night at the premiere so you don’t have to look like the bad guy.”

  “Everyone is so excited about it, though. I kind of feel bad spoiling their fun.”

  “Ginger, these are the same people who you couldn’t stand a month ago.”

  “I know.” She slumped back in her chair. “But everyone has been so nice to me lately.”

  His phone vibrated on the table. “Yeah, but have they named a salad after you?” he teased, throwing some bills on the table to cover their lunch. “That’s Bucky. He wants to put the finishing touches on the premiere before we transmit it off to the network. I’m headed up to the mansion. Wanna come?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m meeting Patricia and a friend of hers here to talk about Cassidy’s prom dress.”

  Diesel stood, shaking his own head in disbelief. “I still can’t imagine that girl mingling with the rest of the teenagers at the prom. She seems to enjoy being radically different from the rest of Generation Z. If you pull this off, you’ll be a miracle worker.”

  “Uh-huh,” Ginger said, but her attention was focused on the busboy clearing their table. It was none other than Kyle Preston. He gave her a sheepish look as he piled their plates in the plastic dish tub.

  Diesel squeezed her shoulder before heading out the door. She waved him off, more interested in why Kyle was lingering at their table. He sprayed the tabletop with cleaning solution before wiping it down with a rag he pulled from his back pocket.

  “So Cassidy is going to the prom?” He tried to appear as if his question was a casual one, but there was genuine concern in his eyes.

  “Why?” Ginger asked. “Is there a reason she shouldn’t?” She knew the reason, of course, but she wanted to see whether her read on the boy was accurate.

  He sat down in the chair next to her. “Yeah. They’re gonna make a fool out of her.”

  “She knows that.”

  His handsome blue eyes grew wide before his shoulders slumped. “Of course she does. She’s too smart for her own good.”

  “She said that you’re in on it.” Please, let that not be true.

  “I’m supposed to ask her to be my date.” He hung his head guiltily.

  Ginger heaved a disappointed sigh and slapped her palm on the table. He shot forward in his chair. “But I wasn’t going to actually take her to the prom,” he said emphatically. “My plan was to take her to a nice dinner, then maybe go on a boat cruise in Wilmington. If I never took her to the dance, they couldn’t embarrass her!”

  “Your plan was?”

  He fell against the seat back, dejectedly. “Yeah, I asked her and she shot me down. I was hoping that meant she wasn’t going, but if you said she’s getting a dress, that must mean someone else has asked her. Someone who’s probably going to turn on her the minute they get to the prom.”

  “I don’t understand why these kids have to pick on one another,” she said.

  His mouth gaped open. “Didn’t you dismantle the zipper of Savannah Rich’s dress so it would fall apart at her prom?”

  “Seriously?” she asked, once again stunned that people thought a television show was somehow real life.

  “What I’m saying is that this isn’t something new. Kids pick on other kids. On TV and in real life. I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just saying it happens.”

  “All it takes is for someone to stand up against it.”

  Kyle squirmed in his seat. “I’ve tried. Really, I have. Why do you think I wanted her to go with me? It was the best plan I could think of. But if she’s going with someone else . . .”

  “She’s going solo.”

  The boy’s face grew hard. “No. I won’t let her do that.”

  “She’s determined to face them down. She knows what she’s getting into. But it might be nice if there was a friendly face in the room,” Ginger said, aware that Cassidy would probably rip Ginger’s tongue out for suggesting it, but she and Diesel would be long gone by then.

  Kyle nodded, his face resolute.

  “Hello, Kyle.”

  They both looked up to see a fashionably dressed pregnant woman standing beside their table. Despite her petite stature, the woman practically dominated the room with her poise and bearing. Pretty amber eyes shone at Kyle as he stood to offer her his chair.

  “Hey, there, Mrs. Connelly,” he said to her. “How are you today?”

  “I’m feeling fat and pregnant,” she said, a hint of an
accent resonating in her voice. Smiling at Kyle so that he blushed, she sat in the chair. “But that’s to be expected. How is that beautiful sister of yours?”

  “She’s great.” He picked up the dish tub. “Hannah is having fun taking dance class with Ginger, here.”

  A cat-ate-the-canary grin spread over the other woman’s face. “Hmm, yes, I’ve heard about how fabulous Ginger is. If I wasn’t so exhausted keeping up after Owen all day, I’d try to make one of your classes.” She offered her hand to Ginger. “I’m Julianne. It’s great to finally meet you. Gavin speaks highly of you.”

  Ginger felt her cheeks flame as she glanced around the diner, grateful that Kyle had left to get Julianne a glass of lemonade.

  Julianne’s laugh was husky. “My husband, Will, is Gavin’s best friend, you see.” Ginger sucked in a breath. Will had seen her and Gavin lip-locked in the ballet studio that first week she was in town. “Of course, I had to ask him about you. But don’t worry. I’m discreet.” She patted Ginger’s hand as the waitress brought her lemonade.

  “So,” she said after taking a swallow from the glass. “Cassidy needs a prom dress?”

  The pieces fell into place for Ginger then. Will’s wife was actually bridal gown–turned–baby clothes designer Julianne Connelly, Patricia’s friend. She’d read about her marriage to the NFL star in the tabloids as she’d waited in the checkout line. As Ginger was well aware, not everything one read in the rag sheets was true. Apparently, the skeptics who’d predicted the Connellys’ marriage was a farce were way off base if she was expecting a second child. At least Ginger hoped so.

  “Yes.” Ginger toyed with her glass of water. “I have a feeling she’s going to be a bit difficult to shop for, but Patricia thought you could help us.”

  Julianne’s face softened. “I would do anything for Cassidy and girls like her. It won’t be difficult. It’ll be my pleasure.” She pulled a sketchbook out of her oversized bag. “I’ve drawn up some designs that would be easy to have made up. Obviously, I’ll cover all the costs.”