Someplace Familiar (Laurel Cove Romance Book 1)

by Teresa Tysinger

  The back door of the store closed hard behind Jack. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light through the stockroom. In the storefront, Jasper locked the front door. “Just in time to go home, I see,” Jack called to his little brother.

  “Hey, man. Have yourself a good time, I guess?”

  “Yeah, it was a good day. Lots of work to do up at that house.” Jack didn’t take the bait on his brother’s joking. “I’m going to help her when I can. There’s no way she’ll be able to pull it all off on her own. I might need you to come up with me a few Saturdays. The plumbing is going to need a good once-over.”

  Jasper tossed the keys from one hand to the other and grinned. “So, what is it about this girl? I mean, she’s gorgeous, but you haven’t given any girl a second look for months.”

  “How about I buy you dinner and we’ll talk?” Despite their difference in age, Jack and his baby brother told each other just about everything—nothing was off limits. Although Jack could stand to hear less about his brother’s dating drama.

  “Sounds about right.” Jasper started for the back door. “That’s the least you owe me for running out all afternoon.”

  They finished closing up and walked down Main Street to The Garage, Laurel Cove’s only bar and grill. A crowd of construction workers returning from a long day out on work sites filled the joint. Taking the only two empty stools at the far end of the long bar, Jack filled Jasper in on the history between him and Livy. How he’d secretly pined for her all year after that one summer, looked for her for summers to come, then lost track of her—and how she’d reappeared out of the blue.

  “So sentimental.” Jasper’s shoulders shook from a silent chuckle as he finished his last bite of burger. “But, in all seriousness, if this girl excites you at all after Claire, then you’ve got my support.”

  “That’s pretty serious coming from you.” Jack studied his brother across the table. Sure, he knew Jasper wanted him to be happy, but the mature reaction reassured him. “But, thanks, man. That means a lot.” No need to count chickens before they hatched, as Aunt Bea would say. Fact was, two days ago Jack would never have believed he could be interested in anyone. He tipped his glass and Jasper clinked his bottle against the rim.

  “Guess it’s just nice to have a little hope.”

  And it was.

  CHAPTER

  Five

  H ave a good first day in town, honey?” Aunt Bea looked up from behind bright pink bifocals. She sat at the front desk reading a magazine as Livy walked through the lobby of the inn.

  “Yes, ma’am. Jack helped me up at my gram’s house to decide what all needs to be done. I’m afraid I’ve really got my hands full.”

  The woman let out a high-pitched squeal. “Oh, Jack is helping you? How wonderful. You be sure to tell that boy that if he needs to put some projects on hold around here, I’d be happy to lend him out to you on Saturdays.”

  It certainly was no mystery what the woman’s intentions were with her nephew. Livy couldn’t stop the smile from breaking out across her face. “That’s awfully nice of you. Thank you. We’ll have to see how things go.”

  “Well, it’s my pleasure, honey. And you’re welcome here as long as it takes to get that house all ready for you. ‘Night, now.” Aunt Bea pushed her glasses back up from where they’d slipped to the tip of her nose and returned to her reading.

  “Goodnight, Aunt Bea.” A warmth filled Livy as she made her way upstairs. Though beautiful and cozy, the inn would not be as charming without its sweet keeper.

  At her room door, the night manager passed Livy. “Need anything, miss?”

  “No, I’m all set, Mr. Smith. Goodnight.”

  He nodded at her, tipping an invisible hat, and headed back down the steps. Inside the room, Livy released a heavy sigh. There were infinitely more people in New York City, yet she had spoken to more people in Laurel Cove in the last few days than she had over the course of a whole week in the city. What a different culture. Though a lovely change of pace, it was an adjustment to be noticed so often.

  After a quick snack of crackers and a banana, Livy slipped into her pajamas and slippers. The soft fabric of the large armchair welcomed her as she slid into its overstuffed cushion, grabbing the television remote from the side table. TV had always been her guilty pleasure to unwind. Landing on a rerun of some old sitcom, the dancing glow blurred, and her thoughts refocused on the events of the day—and to Jack.

  A lump swelled in Livy’s throat at the thought of that first look at Gram’s house. It would have been foolish to expect to see the cottage of her childhood. No, that home was gone. What remained was a house. Walls, window casings, rusty nails. God willing, they’d be able to fix it, she and Jack. Jack. As his name whispered inside her thoughts, she allowed her eyes to close.

  The kindness he showed to listen as she reminisced hadn’t been lost on her. When was the last time she’d felt truly heard? He’d cared for her feelings, but also her safety—going before her when the house’s integrity was uncertain, and understanding when she’d been frightened at the threat of rats. She should be embarrassed over that childish display of fear over small, furry creatures, but he hadn’t judged her. With a sigh so deep she sunk further into the cushioned chair, she imagined his arms around her again as they stood in the kitchen. So warm and inviting.

  Her eyes flew open. She didn’t need to be thinking about a man at this time, with so much heartache behind her and so much work in front of her. It had only been two months since she split with Sam. She hadn’t come to Laurel Cove to give in to her loneliness with the first man who came along.

  Resolute, her body relaxed against the chair’s back.

  It had been so long since a man had held her, even Sam. But from the moment she saw him, there was something different—special—about Jack Bowdon. Pulling the afghan over her exposed arms, Livy drifted to sleep, unable to get him off her mind. Her waking thoughts carried over to her dreams.

  Gram was there. They sat at the table in her pristine kitchen, looking out over the smiling pansies as a gentle breeze blew delicate, gauzy white curtains away from the screen.

  “He makes me feel special and cherished. How could that be after such a short time, Gram?”

  “Love is a funny thing, my darling Olivia.” Gram’s wrinkled hands tenderly held Livy’s.

  “It’s too early for love. I pulled away from his hand and his embrace. I’m scared, Gram.” Livy’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned them toward her lap.

  The old woman’s fingers held Livy’s chin, turning her granddaughter’s eyes toward her again. “My dear, love isn’t something to be feared. Jesus loved us the moment we became ourselves. We pull away from Him in our mistakes and in our imperfection. Yet He loves us still. It’s never too early, or too late, for love. Do you understand?”

  “I understand. I miss you, Gram. I miss gardening with you, wringing laundry with you, holding your hand on walks.” She gazed down at her young, smooth hands inside the weathered old ones of the woman who’d taught her so much. But when she looked up again, she was alone at the table. The table was again old and cracked. Livy frantically looked around the kitchen to find the sink covered in vines, the floor tiles faded, and the windows bare of the delicate drapes. It was once again in the state Livy and Jack had discovered it earlier that day.

  Livy sat up with a start, short of breath, Room 12 lit only by the glow of the television. Settling in bed, sleep didn’t come again easy. She reflected on the dream and the words of her grandmother. It’s never too early, or too late, for love.

  Did she believe that? Could she?

  Livy rolled onto her hip, facing the window. A distant mountainside glowed under a bright moon. The color was not unlike the blue glow from the television, yet softer. Her eyes wandered around the sky, her thoughts drifting to Sam. A few weeks into their relationship, he had begun correcting her. At first in small ways, then less subtle and harsher.

  “New Yorkers don’t ord
er their coffee like that.”

  “You can’t leave your windows open all night.”

  “Didn’t I tell you last time to take the A train so you wouldn’t be late?”

  They were barks, commands, and subtle insults at her intelligence and worth. Looking back now, Livy could see they were red flags, warnings she’d chosen to ignore for fear of being alone. She’d been raised to believe in herself, and Sam had single-handedly ruined that part of her.

  She blinked, and the moon-kissed mountains swirled as a flood of tears cascaded across the bridge of her nose. If only sleep would come again and rescue her from these memories.

  Over time, the comments had grown worse, so gradually Livy couldn’t even see it. One day, after selling a painting, Livy called Sam at his office to tell him the great news. Instead of congratulating her, he scolded her for accepting too little for it. And just a year ago, in front of a few of their friends at dinner, he told her she should order the salad because she was getting “thick like all the other southern gals,” emphasizing the last word in a way that hit Livy like a four-letter curse word. That’s when things started going downhill for her. Fast.

  Livy began to realize how much she had let Sam’s opinion control her self-worth. She dressed as he preferred. They only ate at restaurants he liked. Her “friends” were really his friends that she inherited because they never went out with anyone else. She painted less and less, avoiding it altogether the last few months she was in the city. All thanks to Sam’s constant criticism.

  He could be a nice enough guy by some standards. He never forgot a birthday or anniversary. He took her on weekend trips away from the city. He helped with errands. But he’d never traveled with her to North Carolina, not even for her father’s funeral. For a long time, Livy held onto the relationship because she didn’t know what to do without him. She saw that now. They’d been together almost the whole time she lived in the city. Without him she would have had to, in a sense, start over.

  Livy turned several times in bed, unable to get comfortable. She finally settled on her back, staring at the ceiling. Outside in the distance, she heard what sounded like a gunshot. The last fight she had with Sam raced to the front of her mind. They had been arguing about something trivial, the kind of fight that, when a relationship was strained, could turn into a fight about everything and a fight about nothing all at the same time. They were both unhappy.

  “If I’m wrong all the time, then why are you with me?” Livy’s throat had threatened to choke her as she tried to keep tears at bay.

  Sam bit back, “Because I’m the only right thing in your life. Without me, you’d be a huge mess in this city!” Though stung by his words, a sudden moment of clarity had washed over her. While he thought he advanced her sad life, he was just the thing holding her back from being her best self.

  “You need to pack your things and not come back.” Though they didn’t live together, signs of him littered her place. He’d narrowed his eyes and stepped so close that his breath warmed her face—then left without saying a word.

  It’s funny how moments that are catalyst to positive change can be so painful. Livy had scribbled the statement in her journal after Sam left the apartment. The concept still bewildered her. After that night, every time she saw Sam, it took all she had not to take back what she’d said and just let things be. More than being undermined and undervalued, Livy was most scared of change, of the unknown. That hadn’t been the case when she’d come to the city as a young adult, ready to take on the world after leaving home and everything she’d known. Sam left Livy jaded and empty of the spunk she’d once had.

  It was for that reason, when she acted fast after seeing the ad for Gram’s house, that it had to be God giving her a newfound determination. God had a plan for her life. She just knew it.

  Words her father once told her floated through the sleepy fog of her mind. When you feel peaceful about something you would usually fear or doubt, it is God giving you a nudge to walk along the path he has set for you.

  Livy did have peace about moving to Laurel Cove. At least for tonight, while lying in the cozy bed, the haunting memories were no match for the possibility that Jack could very well be part of God’s plan for her life.

  CHAPTER

  Six

  S o? How’d it go?” Meredith’s eyebrows arched high, her smile mischievous.

  “How’d what go?” Jack waved his empty coffee mug impatiently.

  She held the full pot back, taking his morning caffeine hostage. “Jasper was in here yesterday and said you spent the day with Livy. How was it?”

  Jack rolled his eyes and laughed. Even his own brother rode the gossip train.

  “Oh, that. I just spent a few hours inspecting her grandma’s cottage with her. She doesn’t know a whole lot about remodeling, so I offered to help out. No big deal.”

  “I think that’s great. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you pick up a hammer other than to stock shelves.”

  “Yeah, it felt good to have my contractor hat on again. I think it’ll be fun. But there’s a ton of work to do.” He straightened his arm so his mug was just inches from her face. “May I please have some coffee now?”

  Meredith laughed and finally obliged. “Greg is in a creative mood this morning, so we’ve got French toast on the griddle.”

  “Sure, that sounds good.” The mug warmed his hands on the way to the table that he and Livy had already shared twice. He chose the seat facing the street. As if on cue, she turned the corner at his store and headed toward him.

  She moved swiftly in the brisk morning mountain air. With a skip, she narrowly missed a small puddle across a dip in the sidewalk just before making it to the shop’s door. The corners of Jack’s lips turned up as he watched her display of youthful energy. The bell over the door clattered loudly as she stepped through and let out an audible shiver.

  “There’s something about these mountain mornings that feel colder than up in the city.” Livy discarded her gloves, scarf, and coat onto the chair opposite Jack before sitting. “I thought you said it was starting to thaw.”

  He smiled at her and sipped his coffee. Inside, though, his heart raced like a schoolboy in front of his crush.

  “Don’t worry. Soon you’ll be wondering where the heat wave came from.” Meredith approached the table with a mug and the pot. “This’ll help. Coffee?”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you.”

  Meredith shot Jack a full, toothy grin. Good grief, his friends were relentless about him starting to date again. “Livy, this is Meredith. She and her husband Greg are two of my closest friends. They own the shop. Meredith, this is Livy.”

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Livy. We’re glad to have you here in our little town.” Meredith offered Livy a fresh mug of coffee, which she took and wrapped her hands around.

  “It’s good to be back. Though it won’t be a vacation with all the work to do up at my grandmother’s house. That’s where Jack comes in.” Livy looked to Jack, her smile warm and thankful. He couldn’t look away. “We’re starting to become predictable meeting here every day since I’ve arrived.”

  “You’re welcome anytime. Jack’s practically a fixture.” Meredith squeezed Jack’s shoulder, winking at him. “How ‘bout some French toast, Livy.”

  “No, thank you. I’ll have a bagel with cream cheese and some coffee. There’s still a little New Yorker in me.” Livy followed Meredith over to the counter with a small brown wallet in hand.

  As she pulled open her wallet, something fell onto the counter. Meredith picked it up.

  “Who’s this handsome fella?” The small, quiet shop carried her words.

  “Oh, I didn’t know that was still in there.” Livy spoke under her breath and stood a little straighter. “Just someone I used to know.” Taking the photo back and handing Meredith the proper payment, Livy took her coffee to the small table opposite the counter to add cream and sugar. Jack met Meredith’s gaze as she shrugged her shoulders. She must have
hit a nerve.

  Livy returned to the table, quiet for a long moment with her hands warming around her coffee mug, eyes fixed out the window. She’d gone somewhere far away. When she finally turned toward Jack, it was a few seconds before she refocused on him.

  “Sleep well?” she asked.

  Jack took her lead, not wanting to pry. “Yeah, not too bad. Rex, my dog, was restless this morning, so we were up extra early. How about you?”

  “I laid in bed for a long time thinking about yesterday. The house, the memories, the huge list I’m sure you’re going to give me in a minute. And how I got here. But once I fell asleep, I was out like a light.”

  “How did you get here?” Jack took a risk by going a little deeper, but he couldn’t help himself now.

  Before Livy had the chance to respond, Greg came over with their breakfast orders. He wore a black apron dusted with flour and a red Asheville Tourists baseball hat turned backwards.

  “Okay, man. Let’s have it. Take a bite and give it to me straight.” His tone was earnest and to the point, but Jack was used to it. Every time Greg tried a new recipe, he used either Meredith or Jack as his guinea pig.

  Jack winked at Livy before putting on his game face. Jack made a slow, dramatic production of cutting off a bite and easing it into his mouth. Greg shifted his weight and gnawed on a fingernail while waiting for the verdict. An otherwise laid-back guy, he took his food very seriously.

  “Really, really good, man. I think you nailed it.” Jack offered an outstretched hand.