The Plan

by Tawdra Kandle

  The two men joined the groom’s side as the tent continued to fill quickly. Matt Spencer and his wife Sandra came in. She was glowing as only a woman in her second trimester of pregnancy could. They both waved to me as they took their seats. Eric Fleming and his wife Janet sat down next to them. Jude’s brother Mark and his wife Samantha arrived next, which meant Cooper was the only member of the posse not there yet.

  I resisted the temptation to turn around and watch for him, but just barely. The trio playing background music at the front of the tent changed tempo slightly, and the bridesmaids processed in. I pointed out each one to Abby, explaining who everyone was. When the groom, his best man and the minister came out, I finally spotted Cooper. He and Lexie slid into chairs two rows back from me. I kept my face to the front, afraid of what I might give away if our eyes met.

  The music changed to Tim McGraw’s It’s Your Love, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house as Logan escorted Meghan down the aisle. I couldn’t help glancing at Cooper. His eyes were on me, holding mine until I dropped my gaze to the floor, my heart thudding painfully against my chest.

  The ceremony was beautiful and sweet. Sam and Meghan’s vows to each other pulled at my soul. They each ended with the same phrase: You are my first, my last, my only.

  I wanted Cooper Davis to be my last. My only. He wasn’t my first and I wasn’t his, but I knew that I’d love him for the rest of my life, no matter how he felt about me.

  There was a burst of applause as the groom finally kissed his bride. We all moved to the adjoining tent, where tables had been set up along with a dance floor. I sat with Abby, Sadie and Mack, along with Alex’s parents, Fred and Ellen Nelson.

  “Such a beautiful wedding. We’re so happy for them.” Mrs. Nelson dabbed at her eyes. “We were friends of Sam and Ali’s parents.”

  “It’s wonderful that you could be here.” I smiled.

  “You couldn’t have kept us away.” Fred Nelson cleared his throat. “Now how about I bring all you ladies some drinks?”

  Dinner was delicious—the caterers used our kitchen at the Tide, which was handy for this situation. Afterward, we all watched as Meghan and Sam had their first dance as a married couple. When the song ended and Sam kissed his bride with such gentle love, Abby sniffled into her napkin.

  When the music began again, I danced a few fast songs with Abby, Samantha Rivers and Janet Fleming. And then the DJ announced that he was slowing things down, which was my cue to find a chair and rest my throbbing feet.

  I slipped from the dance floor, intending to go back to my seat, when someone caught my hand. Cooper stood just behind me, rubbing his thumb over the back of my fingers.

  “Dance with me, Emmy?”

  I paused a moment before nodding. Cooper pulled me tight against him, so that my breasts crushed against the crisp cotton of his dress shirt. We swayed to the music in the dimmed light.

  “You’re beautiful tonight.” He skimmed his nose down my neck to nuzzle behind my ear. “But then you’re beautiful every night.”

  “Cooper.” I tightened my hold around his waist. “People are going to see. And talk.”

  He glanced around. “It’s dark, and no one’s paying attention to us.”

  Pain rolled over me, a sting so sharp and familiar that I closed my eyes against it. I swallowed hard. “Cooper, I can’t do this anymore.”

  “What? Dance? You’re a wonderful dancer, Em.” He kissed the top of my head.

  “No, Cooper. I mean, this. Us. I can’t do it.”

  He stopped swaying and stared down at me. “What do you mean?”

  Tears choked me, and I struggled to breathe. “Cooper, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love you. I’m in love with you, and I have been for a long time. I tried not to be. Hell, I even went on a date, trying to forget you. I know you told me from the beginning that we can’t ever be more than a casual hookup or friends with benefits, and I know I said I’d take it slow, but I can’t. Not anymore. I love you, and it kills me to pretend I’m not.”

  I drew in a long and shuddering breath before I went on. “I’m not going to stop loving you, probably not ever, but I’m not going to cheapen how I feel by having sex with you and pretending it doesn’t mean anything. The way you see us, we’re like my piecrusts. Delicious, perfect, and exactly what you want, but temporary. Fleeting. I don’t want temporary, Cooper. I can’t do temporary. I need permanent, long-term, love-me-for-freaking-ever. And if you can’t handle that, I don’t want to see you again.”

  I pushed at his chest until his arms fell away from me, and I ran lightly from the dance floor. No one had heard me, and no one had noticed us, but I couldn’t be there anymore. I’d make excuses to Jude in the morning. I stumbled across the sand and climbed up onto the sidewalk until I found my van. My old reliable minivan, just like me: nothing flashy, nothing anyone else would appreciate, even though it was dependable and safe.

  I drove home by myself, shed my beautiful dress, climbed into my lonely bed and cried myself to sleep.

  I was numb for a week, which was stupid and senseless, really, because nothing had changed in my life. I still baked pies and pastries, delivered them to my clients, and took care of my children and my house. I smiled and talked and interacted with everyone just as I always had. Nothing had changed.

  And yet everything had.

  For months, I’d been clinging to the possibility of Cooper’s love like a lifeboat in a raging ocean storm. The idea that he did love me, and that he might eventually acknowledge that fact, gave me hope. It meant a bright and shiny tomorrow was out there, if only I could hold on long enough.

  But now my lifeboat was gone, and I was tossed about in the waves with nothing to hold. Maybe if I’d never experienced the lifeboat, I wouldn’t miss it, but I had and I did. Now the ocean was scary and dark and full of endless loneliness.

  I went into the Tide on Friday night, watching the door while pretending not to. Season was winding down, and we were nowhere as busy as we had been. If Cooper had come in, I would’ve seen him right away.

  But he didn’t.

  Saturday morning I woke up alone. I was determined to shake off this feeling, this pain, and I spent the day cleaning my house from top to bottom. I didn’t forget Cooper, exactly, but I thought of him less and had a perfectly clean house at the end of the day. That was something.

  The Tide was a little busier that night. We had a returning band playing, a group of folk singers from the Clearwater area. They were slowly but surely gaining popularity, and the crowd swelled to twice its normal size. I hardly had time to notice that once again, Cooper didn’t show up.

  I did close-up by myself, flying through the tasks as quickly as I could. It was past midnight, and I was tired after my cleaning frenzy and a long night on my feet. I set the alarm and locked up, happy to be heading home, even if I was by myself once again.

  My house was dark and quiet as I turned the key in the lock of the front door. I thought longingly about my bottle of wine waiting for me and turned into the kitchen to pour a glass.

  It wasn’t there.

  Frowning, I scanned the counters. Not one bottle. I began pulling open cabinets and even the fridge, on the off chance that I might’ve accidentally put it there while I was straightening up. But it was nowhere to be found.

  An odd sense of unquiet seized me. As I closed the last cabinet door, I realized there was the glow of a light in the hallway. I hadn’t left on any lamps tonight before work, and I hadn’t been any place but the living room and kitchen since I came home. Someone had been in my house.

  My heart began to pound. I reached behind the refrigerator and pulled out my trusty old baseball bat as I crept down the hall. The light was coming from my bedroom.

  I took a deep breath as I turned into the room. My heart pounded out of control and my breath was erratic. When I pushed open the door that was standing ajar, I screamed in a moment of abject terror.

  Cooper sat on the edge of the bed, holdin
g my bottle of wine and two glasses.

  I clutched the bat tighter in my hand, pointing it at him. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You almost gave me a heart attack. Holy shit, Cooper.” I slapped one hand over my chest and staggered back into the wall, closing my eyes. “What the hell are you doing here, in my room, on my bed, holding my wine?”

  “Well, I didn’t come to murder you, so you can drop the baseball bat.” His voice was dry, and I made a face at him as I let the bat fall to the ground.

  “Then why are you here?” I managed to stand up straight, hands on my hips as I stared him down.

  Cooper stood up, smoothing his hands down over the front of his jeans. He cleared his throat, and it occurred to me that he was nervous.

  “Emmy, you told me you loved me. That you’re in love with me, but that you can’t deal with it, because you think I see us as temporary. What did you say? Fleeting, like a pie crust.”

  I nodded. “Nice recap for the folks at home, Cooper, but I still don’t know why you’re here.”

  “Getting to that.” He drew in a deep breath. “Emmy, you’re wrong. I don’t see us as temporary. I see us as permanent. Long term. Built to last for years, for generations.” He stepped to the end of the bed and pointed. “Like this.”

  There stood the most beautiful rocking chair I’d ever seen. It was simple; two sturdy rockers below a smooth seat backed by straight rungs and a plain headrest. The wood was oak, and he’d stained it light, so that I could still see the beauty of the grain.

  “I built this rocking chair for you, Emmy. Because I want you to look at it and see us. When you sit in it, I want you to remember that I love you. Because I do. I love you, Emmaline Graham Carter. And I’m in love with you. I don’t want to live another day of my life pretending I’m not. I want to be permanent with you. I want us to be a family, with your kids and my kid, and all of our crazy friends.

  “But mostly I just want you. Forever.”

  I stood, with my hands pressed to my face. I was shocked to find that I was crying, rivers of tears coursing down my cheeks.

  “Is that all you came to say?” I managed to choke out the words.

  Cooper nodded. “That’s it. Is it enough? I know what I’m like, Emmy. I know I’m difficult and moody and temperamental. I know I’m kind of a bad bet. But I’ll love you with everything I am for all the rest of our days, if that means anything to you.”

  I took a step toward him where he stood by my rocking chair. Reaching out one finger, I stroked the top of the chair. The wood was like satin, but I could feel its strength and its durability. Its permanence.

  I turned toward Cooper and laid my hands on his arms. Touching him, I felt the same thing I had in the chair. Strength, durability and permanence.

  “It means everything to me.” I whispered the words. “Cooper Davis, I’ll love you with all of me for all the rest of our days.”

  He pulled me down with him into the rocking chair, kissing me with all the promise and hope I could ever want for every single day of our forever.

  THE END

  Tonight Looks Good On You-Jason Aldean

  Beside Me-Jo Dee Messina

  X’s and O’s-Trisha Yearwood

  Panama-Van Halen

  Dead or Alive-Bon Jovi

  A Little Bit Stronger-Sara Evans

  She’s Country-Jason Aldean

  Rock of Ages-Def Leppard

  Why Can’t This Be Love-Van Halen

  A well-known fact among writers is that characters don’t just live within the pages while we’re writing the story. In fact, they exist before and after, and their lives go on in our minds when the story on the pages is finished. So it was with everyone from Crystal Cove.

  When I wrote The Posse two years ago, it was my first foray into contemporary romance (after paranormal), writing for adults (not for young adults!). It was scary, but as I have often said, Jude’s story fell into my lap fully-formed, and I loved it. After it was done, I was fairly certain Emmy would have a book. But I got sidetracked by a group of college kids in South Jersey, and then by Rafe and Nell—oh, and then there was little town in Georgia and Meghan’s story.

  When we were planning this year’s releases, I was giddy about coming back to the Cove. And they didn’t let me down. Jude’s been busy, cooking up new ventures, and the posse’s been changing, too. Returning to this town and these characters was like a sweet visit with old friends. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

  So many thank yous to hand out, because the writing life is hardly a solitary one. To my regular, wonderful team, of course: Stephanie Nelson, who gave The Posse a new cover as well as created this one; Stacey Blake of Champagne Formats, who re-did her very first format for The Posse’s revamp and also made this one so pretty, as always; Kelly Baker, who keeps me on the straight and narrow by reading with a fine-toothed comb (yes, you will get more Alex!); Jade Eby, Emerald O’Brien and Maria Clark, who help me find order amidst chaos; and of course, Mandie, who cheers me on every step.

  Big love to all my author friends who share the journey and speak the same language, especially Olivia Hardin, Gail Priest, Melissa Lummis and Christine Gomez.

  And as always, to my patient family for all their humor and love.

  Special kisses and hearts to my Temptresses. Y’all make me smile, and every day, you make my job my joy.

  Abby’s story is coming!

  The Path

  releases August 25th.

  Pre-order here The Path!

  Abby Donavan came to the small beach community of Crystal Cove to start over. After a painful affair broke her heart and derailed her burgeoning career, taking over management for the just-opened bed-and-breakfast was the safe choice. In this sleepy town, Abby figured she could bury her memories and forget the pain.

  When the chance to have her own hotel falls into her lap, though, she can’t resist the temptation. Making the old Riverside Inn into the showplace she’s always dreamed of running offers the second chance she never expected.

  Abby didn’t expect another kind of second chance to land on her doorstep at the same time. Ryland Kent wants to help her bring the Riverside back to life, and his passion for restoration is irresistible. But as much as she wants to ignore it, she can’t help seeing another spark in his eyes . . . one that offers to reignite her own flame.

  Sometimes the path to a happily-ever-after is anything but smooth.

  Read on for a sneak peek . . .

  “NO, NO, NO!” I SHOOK my head and pressed my lips together, trying to tamp down my frustration levels as I stood outside the bright yellow house. “You’ve got the flag facing the wrong direction. It’s got to come off the pole and go back on the other way.”

  The men standing on the edge of the roof on the second story of the Hawthorne House Bed and Breakfast exchanged glances that I couldn’t quite read, but I was pretty sure they weren’t ones of admiration.

  “Hey, Ms. D, don’t you think it’s okay if they stay like this? No one’s going to notice whether the leaves face up or down.” Lester Black put his hands on his hips and stared me down. It wasn’t the first time we’d had this kind of battle, but thank Christ, it was likely to be one of the last. Today’s changeover from our summer décor to the autumn flags and flowers was my last official duty as manager of this bed and breakfast on the main street of Crystal Cove.

  “No, actually, Lester, I don’t think it’s okay. When have I thought it was okay to take short cuts or do things the wrong way just because they were easier? Now are you two going to fix those flags, or am I going to come up there and do it myself?” I planted my hands on my hips and leveled my most lethal bitch stare at the men.

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Les, just do it.” The other man, a little shorter and stockier than his co-worker, shook his head. “You know Logan’ll have a shit fit if he finds out we let her climb up here. And she will.” He cast me a baleful glare, and I only barely managed to not stick out my tongue in return.

  Be c
hill, Ab. You’re the boss. You’re in charge. Don’t give an inch, and they’ll do what you say.

  I could almost hear my father’s words in my head, and I smiled a little. Colin Donavan never had to raise his voice to get things done. He just spoke slowly and precisely, with that underlying coat of steel, and they all jumped to do his bidding.

  His daughter, on the other hand, made use of the bitch stare with alarming regularity just to get two workmen to fix flags or set up flowerpots. Yeah, some things just weren’t fair.

  “Abigail Donavan, the fairest of them all.” A familiar voice approached from behind me, and I grinned just before two arms wrapped around my shoulders. “Every time I see you, you’re more gorgeous. What’s your secret?”

  I leaned my head back against Alex Nelson’s broad chest. “Must be clean living.”

  He sighed heavily. “Well, then, I’m fucked.”

  I laughed, and he joined me, keeping one arm around me as he stood at my side, looking up at the house. “She really is a beauty, isn’t she?”

  “She really is.” I swallowed hard. I wasn’t really leaving the Hawthorne House far behind me. My new job was just up the road, and I’d be able to come down here any time I wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly. But we’d been each other’s first, this house and me. I was her first manager, and she was my first B-and-B, my first solo managing job. Working here, in this quaint little Florida beach town, for Jude Hawthorne and Logan Holt, had been my salvation after the unholy mess I’d made up in Boston. She was always going to hold a special place in my heart.

  “Transitions are hard.” Alex wasn’t looking down at me anymore, but his fingers tightened around my arm. “And scary. But you know you’re leaving her in good hands, right?”