Fearless

by Abby Brooks

  Which was okay.

  Totally fine.

  One hundred percent to be expected.

  He was a writer. He needed to immerse himself in his work or he’d never finish the book…especially considering how far behind schedule he was before we met. His deadline crept ever closer. Just two weeks away. With the proper focus, he’d make it, so I did everything I could to take the pressure off our relationship. I’d be there when the book was done.

  My phone jingled and jangled from its place on my coffee table. I put down my book and answered a video call from Amelia. “All right. Spill it,” she said as soon as her face filled the screen. “What’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong—”

  “Don’t you bullshit me, Evie. You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

  She did have an uncanny sense when it came to the truth, but this time, her lie detector was broken. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but everything’s great here.”

  “That’s not what I’ve been hearing.” Amelia tossed her hair over her shoulder.

  “Sounds like your spirit guides finally got something wrong.”

  “One, they never get things wrong, and two, they aren’t my source. It’s worse than that. According to Greta Macmillan’s Facebook page, you and Alex haven’t been seen out together in at least a week.”

  I snorted. “Ah, yes. Reading what my nosey neighbor has to say about my relationship is the best way to know what’s going on…”

  “It is when all you tell me is that everything’s perfect.”

  “Everything is perfect.” I leaned my head against the back of the couch. I was happy. Alex was happy. He was writing. I was thinking about starting a book for the first time since the Drew incident…

  “Then why aren’t the residents of Wildrose Landing gushing about you two anymore? Hmm?” Amelia’s face said I’d been busted. “They also stopped talking about your ghost. Which seems odd. Given how that was the only thing anyone wanted to talk about last month.”

  I hadn’t told Amelia that Alex was the cause of the ghost rumors yet, though it was probably time. “Maybe people found something better to focus on then boring old me.”

  “Better than a power couple making it work in a haunted house? I think not. Greta implied there might be trouble in paradise.”

  “Really?” I’d tried to find Greta’s gossipy posts endearing. It hadn’t worked. Every time someone brought up that damn Facebook page, I found myself more annoyed. “How did she make such an implication?”

  “She said, and I quote, ‘Well, dear friends. It seems as if there might be trouble in paradise with WRL’s newest couple. Evex—Alex and Evie for those of you who don’t understand relationship names—haven’t been seen in weeks. Could this be a repeat of the Candace situation?’”

  The Candace situation? What the hell was the Candace situation?

  “Amelia. Nothing in that was an implication. She straight out said—”

  Amelia waved my concern away. “What’s this Candace situation?”

  I shrugged. “No clue. Look, I’m touched that you’re so concerned for me—”

  “It’s not just me. The whole town is starting to question if this is the beginning of the end for you guys.” Amelia sighed dramatically. “And after only a few weeks of bliss…”

  “It’s not the beginning of the end. Alex’s writer’s block cleared and his publishers wouldn’t extend his deadline. He’s had his nose in his laptop almost nonstop, writing like a madman to catch up so the project doesn’t get pulled. I see him every morning, he goes to work, and then sometimes we see each other at night. We’re just not going out as frequently. That’s all.”

  “I hope you’re right. I’ve been so happy for you since everything came together.”

  “I’ve been happy for me, too. Still am. You really shouldn’t worry over what Greta says. She’s not always right. She’s the one who started the rumor that my house was haunted, and she was so wrong about that.” Bracing myself for her judgement, I filled Amelia in on how I discovered Alex had been the ghost all along.

  She frowned. “Alex was breaking into the house, everyone thought he was a ghost, and he just let them keep thinking that so he could get what he wanted? I’m not sure I like what that says about him.”

  Even though I’d had a similar thought the night the story came out, I didn’t want to mention that to Amelia. “I think you’re oversimplifying things and jumping to conclusions. You’ve decided something’s wrong between us, so you’re looking for proof to validate your concerns.”

  “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am. I promise.”

  “Have you started writing again?”

  “I’ve considered it…”

  “Well, if you’re considering writing, then things must be going better than Greta says they are.” Amelia blew a kiss at the screen, made a promise to talk again soon, then ended the call.

  I dropped my head back on the couch. It had been an awfully long time since Alex and I went out. After our Range Rover adventure, we’d eaten at Overton’s once, and that had pretty much been that. Maybe, it’d be smart for us to go out tonight. Especially if people were starting to think the magic was fading.

  I laughed to myself. Since when did I care what other people thought?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Evie

  Bridget the hostess clapped her hands to her chest when Alex and I walked through the doors of Overton’s. “Oh, yay! I’m so glad to see you two out and about! I’ll post an Evex sighting and the whole town can relax a little.” She pulled out her phone and aimed it our way.

  Alex gently lowered the device before she could snap the pic. “Evex?”

  “That’s your ship name. You know. Evie. Alex. Put ‘em together and you get Evex.” She raised the phone again. “Do you mind? I get bonus points if I post proof.”

  Bonus points? Proof? What in the world was going on with Greta Macmillan’s Facebook page?

  “Evie’s the one to ask.” Alex turned to me with a mischievous grin. “She’s a very private person, you see.”

  I absolutely did not want my picture posted on that damn Facebook page. I didn’t even want to be a topic of conversation in the first place. The vulnerability of an entire town scrutinizing my brand-new relationship planted an uneasy feeling in my stomach. If I had my way, I’d be comfortably slipping under everyone’s radars.

  But, I was working on growth. Strength. Trust…

  So…

  “This is way the heck out of my comfort zone, but sure. What’s the harm?” While the fearful part of my brain listed all the possible harm in an alphabetized and bullet pointed list, I snuggled into Alex’s embrace and Bridget happily clicked away.

  The moment we were seated and awaiting our Drunken Sailors, Alex pulled his notes out of his bag and started reading. His pen tapped against the page as he thought. His brow furrowed only for his whiskey eyes to light up as he scribbled a note in the margin. As he worked, he took my hand, absently running his thumb along my knuckle, and I smiled right along with him, happy to see the story still flowing.

  What I said to Amelia was one hundred percent true. I was genuinely happy for Alex. That was how writing should be. Consuming. Rewarding. I missed feeling that way but didn’t begrudge him for being in it. Not for one second.

  At least I didn’t before I spoke with Amelia.

  As I watched Alex think, I tried to reclaim the general sense of ease I had around the topic of him working at all hours before her call. He needed to devote his time to the book while his brain still allowed him to see the story, or he’d have to pay back his advance and risk getting dropped by his publisher. What a ridiculous thing, that someone as talented and prolific as Alexander Prescott had to worry about that. The world focused too much on money and immediacy. Maybe people and products, relationships and trust, maybe those things wouldn’t break so easily if we focused more on quality and less on speed.

  Patience would be t
he name of my game.

  Alex would finish the manuscript, send it off to his editor, and everything would go back to normal.

  I placed my chin in my hands and gazed into the belly of the restaurant, surprised to find a couple tables staring. Some smiled before they glanced away, but always, I caught the faintest hint of sadness flitting across their faces. The people of Wildrose Landing felt sorry for me, which didn’t exactly leave me with the warmest of fuzzies.

  Alex glanced up, caught me staring into the distance, and frowned. “You okay?”

  “Me? Oh yeah. I’m great.” I sat up straight and grinned widely to prove just how great I was.

  “Do you want me to put these away?” He gestured to the notes, then went ahead and shoved them into his bag before I could reply. A haunted look crossed his eyes, but it was gone before I could be sure I saw what I thought I saw. “Only a fool would let a beautiful woman eat dinner alone, while he sat across from her.”

  “I really don’t mind if you need to work. I know that deadline’s putting pressure on you.”

  “Spending an evening with the most beautiful woman in Wildrose Landing will refresh me and the story will be even better tomorrow.” Alex leaned close. “Especially if I earn access to that magic hooha.”

  I giggled through a slew of anxious thoughts that had no right to interrupt our dinner. What if he was only with me because of the magic hooha? What if he actually didn’t like me? What if he was using me to get what he wanted, and intended to cast me aside when the book was done? What if Amelia knew how much doubt she’d put into my head? Would she tell me I was being silly? Or would she double down and reinforce the narrative?

  I couldn’t stand so much self-doubt. My head needed to just stop already.

  “Who’s Candace?” The question was out before I could stop it.

  Alex flinched. “Where’d you hear about her?”

  “Apparently Greta’s been talking about her on her Facebook page.”

  Alex sat back, a frown tugging at his lips as he raked a hand over his mouth. “Candace is an ex. We were pretty serious for a while, but it didn’t work out.”

  Eager to keep the conversation light, I offered a smile. “Did she steal one of your books and publish it as her own?”

  Obviously uncomfortable, he glanced at the ceiling and swallowed hard, then forced a laugh. “Not quite.”

  “Wow. You mean you stole her book and published it as your own? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  This earned me a genuine smile and hearty laugh. “I’m full of surprises. Stick with me, kid. I’ll make it all worth your while.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.” It was everything I could do to keep joking while my mind waged a war with my personality. My curiosity demanded I press for more information on Candace, but I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.

  Privacy mattered.

  Alex would tell me his story when he was ready.

  Or he wouldn’t.

  And I’d be okay with that.

  Probably.

  Maybe.

  For the most part.

  “It’s eating you up, isn’t it?” He quirked a grin. “After going on and on about being a private person, you can’t bring yourself to push for more info even though it’s eating you up inside.”

  “I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if you wanted to tell me about her.” I smiled warmly while I ran a finger along the back of his hand. “I did tell you about Drew after all.”

  “Oh, Evie.” Disappointment dripped from his words while humor sparkled in his eyes. “I didn’t think you were the type to keep score.”

  I took a long drink of my Drunken Sailor, never breaking eye contact. “It’s fine,” I said after I swallowed. “You can keep this part of yourself private. I’ll just know that I trust you more than you trust me. That’s okay. I understand.”

  I had him with that one and we both knew it.

  “Look at you with the shrewd negotiating skills.” Alex took my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm. “I like it,” he said, then raked his fingers through his curls. “My problem with Candace stretches back to my parents. My mom loved my dad with all that she was. She gave up her career to move to Wildrose so he could focus on his. Everything was fine for a while, but then Dad disappeared into his job. He worked so much we never saw him. When Mom asked him to stay home or take time off, he’d lay on the guilt extra thick. She was miserable and I hated him for it until I grew up to be just like him. Candace and me? We would have imploded eventually, but my job made it happen so much faster, and so much worse. You’ve seen what happens when I fall into a book. I disappear, just like he does. Candace couldn’t handle it and things ended on a pretty sour note. I swore I’d never do that to someone again and haven’t been in a relationship since.”

  I wondered where that left us. Would Alex say we were in a relationship? Or was this more about the convenience of my magic hooha? I let out a shaky breath. “And yet, here you are, with me.”

  It wasn’t a direct question. I didn’t come out and say what was on my mind, but I did think the subtext was pretty clear. Who am I to you?

  “Exactly. Here we are. I’m out of the house. My notes are in my bag. And we’re having a lovely dinner. Or we will be, if it ever arrives.” Alex kissed each finger on my hand and I relaxed. A little.

  Damn Amelia for getting into my head.

  “You don’t have to worry about me pulling a Candace on you. I totally understand when you disappear into a book. Back when I could write, I was the same way. Drew never minded, but apparently he never cared, either. So there’s that.”

  Dinner arrived and we chatted while we ate. Everything felt right with the world again, until an idea struck Alex. He shoved his plate away, pulled out his notes and went to work, while I finished my dinner, then sat with my chin in my hands, staring into the restaurant and waiting for him to be done.

  Chapter Thirty

  Alex

  When I was in the zone, I could write six to seven hundred words in twenty minutes. In the three hours I’d been with Evie at Overton’s, I could have written over five thousand words, bringing me that much closer to the finish line I wasn’t sure I’d reach. I knew the total because I did the math over and over, adding another six hundred every twenty minutes.

  It was worth it. Being with Evie. Finding the time to make her feel important. I didn’t want her to feel like Candace, or worse, like Mom. And I hated feeling like my dad, so putting down work for an evening was a good thing.

  Funny how many times I had to remind myself of that.

  After I fleshed out the idea that struck me when dinner arrived, I pulled my plate back in front of me to finish my meal. “Have you thought about trying to write?” I asked around a mouthful of lukewarm steak. “I know you’ve got a lot of extra time on your hands now that I’m gone so much, and I’m not trying to push you out of your comfort zone, just…” I flared my hands and sat back.

  Evie needed to write. Someone as talented as her couldn’t shut the door on that gift. Now that I’d seen how good she was, I made it my mission to heal her heart enough to bring her back to her purpose. Jude would call it another cause to soothe my White Knight Syndrome. I called it taking care of the people that mattered.

  I’d do whatever it took to make her feel safe enough to unleash her talent.

  Just as soon as I finished this book.

  Evie’s gray eyes lowered to her hands as she spun her glass on the table. “I’ve thought about writing. It doesn’t scare me quite as much as it used to.” Her faint smile told me everything I needed to know. I was on the right track, guiding her back to herself.

  “That’s obviously because of my awesome factor.”

  “Obviously.” She put her chin in her hands and batted her eyelashes. “The credit is all yours.”

  “What would you write about?”

  She shrugged. “I said I wasn’t quite as scared by the idea as I used to be, not that I had any clue
where to start.”

  There was a less noble reason the thought of Evie writing excited me. Yes, she had a talent I wanted to nurture and grow, but also, I wouldn’t have to worry about her spending all this time alone if she lost herself to writing, too. As ulterior motives went, it was fairly benign. A win for both of us—one that would bring her joy and save our budding relationship.

  The look on her face when I glanced up, the one that had me putting my notes away without waiting for her to ask…it wouldn’t have even been a thing if she’d been working on her book while I worked on mine. “Could you imagine what Wildrose would think if the two of us sat here all night, lost in notes and laptops?”

  Evie grinned. “It’s a cute image. Two writers, out on the town, but not really out at all because they’re lost in their own worlds.” She sipped her drink, swirling the ice in the glass. “I do miss writing.”

  “Take some time. See if you have an idea.” I wanted to offer a chance to talk through it with her, but my mind held up the stop sign that was my deadline.

  After.

  I’d have all the time in the world to help her after.

  In the meantime, if she was working on her own book, then maybe my guilt about ignoring her would fade and I could write even faster. It was a win for both of us.

  “Have you ever not met a deadline?” Evie asked.

  “Once. During the Candace debacle.”

  The whole thing had been so ugly. I’d thought she understood that first and foremost, I was a writer. That I had to close my office doors and disappear to the world. When she’d blown up, she’d gone right for the jugular, telling me I was just like my dad. Two weeks later, I adopted Morgan and swore I’d never get involved with someone again.