by Jean Oram
This was nothing more than a short-term vacation romance. And those were fraught with issues from the word go. Nobody was the same person back home as they were on vacation. So what if you lost your socks? Look at the ocean view! Let’s go find supper somewhere.
At home losing your socks quickly became a metaphor for something bigger and more problematic. It became the tipping point that led to arguments that lasted well into the night.
She rolled over to face the opposite wall. What was she supposed to do with the man? He’d basically professed his love and asked if she wanted to be with him. They barely even knew each other.
He knew how he felt.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the fact that she, too, knew how she felt. She untwisted her nightgown, throwing herself onto her back.
A large part of her wanted to throw herself into Nick’s arms and never let go. But how could she do that? She was a woman with a romantic history that hadn’t treated her well. She’d had a whirlwind romance with Chuck and even though she’d planned for the future and thought things through before saying “I do,” things hadn’t lasted. What if she didn’t plan and simply followed her heart this time? She’d naively believed for years that she had followed her heart with Chuck, but now she could see that she’d allowed her brain and her desire for security to overrule her heart at some very important crossroads. She’d intentionally ignored issues within their relationship, too scared about what she might uncover if she looked more closely.
But with Nick she felt as though she could be herself, and they connected in ways that she and Chuck hadn’t, even though she’d thought they should.
That should count for a lot, shouldn’t it?
She threw back the covers and sat up.
But what would happen if the two of them took this first-day fizzy feeling and brought it back to their real lives in a way that she and Chuck hadn’t managed to?
She grabbed her phone to text Daphne. Her friend might still be up, reading bedtime stories to her kids. Polly checked the time. No, she would definitely be sleeping.
Polly sighed and threw herself backward onto the mattress, lifting her phone to scroll through her notifications. The email had come through from Sophia and a quick scan confirmed that she and Nick had a lot to do tomorrow. Maybe that would keep her distracted from thinking about him too much.
Maybe.
She was here to find herself again, not simply fall into an old relationship because it was easy and comfortable.
But what if Nick was right and she did know who she was?
Plus his kisses had been amazing. Irresistible. Brain melting.
What if she did let go this week and gave herself a few days to be entertained by the idea of her and Nick? Working on a wedding would definitely bring out their best, as well as their worst.
She sat up again.
Actually, working with Nick would be perfect. They could discover whether whatever was still surging between them like a storm about to break was simply residue from their teen years or if it was something more. Something meant to be.
She smiled and set her phone aside.
That’s what she’d do—she’d allow things to go wherever they needed to go. Then she’d know.
And why was she willing to test the waters with a man she hadn’t seen in eons?
Because she was Polly Morgan. And because nothing was tying her down, Polly Morgan could live and work anywhere.
That was a scary thought.
Start smaller…
Because Polly Morgan loved adventure.
That was it. Adventure!
And if there was one thing Nick was good at, it was bringing adventure.
She allowed her imagination free rein as she thought about what tomorrow might bring with her sweet, troublemaking cowboy, whose kisses turned her whole brain inside out and upside down.
For the first time in a long while, Polly could hardly wait for dawn.
Nick was still reeling the next morning from how he’d put himself out there with Polly. It had been thoughtless and risky, telling her the things he had. She wasn’t ready—even if it was the truth.
He’d spent the night staring at the cottage’s ceiling. Did she truly want kids, and if so, was it too late for them? Where would they live? Beach house? Texas ranch? Canada? He could imagine anything and everything. The only constant in his daydreams had been Polly.
She had texted him around six, asking him to meet her on the beach in half an hour with coffee. She was hard-core, all right. He wasn’t sure if she was getting their day of wedding preparations off to a quick start, or if she wanted his presumptuous self out of her hair and couldn’t wait a moment longer to tell him so.
He had taken his truck down to Sweet Caroline’s café, surprised to see the woman herself still working the counter. Once she’d recognized him, she’d come around the counter to clutch his face and beam at him, clucking over how handsome he was. She’d also sternly reminded Nick to take his hat off indoors so she didn’t become madder than a wet hen.
He’d sheepishly complied, then grabbed two coffees and two sweet-smelling cinnamon buns, fresh from the oven, while promising to catch up with her later.
When she’d asked what his hurry was, he’d told her he was meeting up with Polly. She’d given him a sly look full of meaning and told him he’d better hurry along.
His best guess was that Caroline remembered everyone who had ever been through the small oceanside town, as well as everyone they’d ever dated. Although he and Polly probably weren’t too difficult to remember, given the number of times she’d had to shoo them out from under the protective shade of her blue, striped awning while locking lips and blocking her front door.
Back on the beach, Nick chuckled at the memory and took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the way the world was brightening around him, the sun dancing off the calm ocean. A soft fog had gathered over the water during the night and it was quickly burning off, giving the landscape a slightly mystical feeling. Nick finished his cinnamon bun, trying to find his way past the gooey, warm heavenliness to chastise himself for choosing what he considered a dessert for breakfast.
He’d let Ralph off leash, and the dog had wandered a ways down the quiet beach, sniffing at footprints left in the sand and studying the overhead gulls as though trying to figure them out. A man could get used to mornings like this. Relaxed. Slow and without a list of everyday chores that would take him from dawn until ten o’clock coffee—or longer—before starting in on the day’s unique tasks.
“Hey, stranger,” said a sweet, feminine voice.
Nick’s heart lifted at the familiar tones and he turned to see Polly smiling at him. She rolled up onto her tiptoes, her sandals hanging from her fingers, and placed a kiss on his lips.
He felt as though his entire world opened up when she kissed him. On the lips. On purpose.
It was as though they were a couple. Comfortable and…
It wasn’t even April Fool’s Day.
He stared at the breathtaking beauty in front of him, thanking his yesterday self for being so forward with her.
She’d left her hair down today, the strands still damp from her morning shower, her face open, lit up with happiness.
He’d allowed himself to imagine a greeting so sweet only once last night.
“Is this for me?” she asked, releasing the cup of coffee from the cardboard tray he had in his grip.
He shook himself and nodded, handing her the bag with the bun, as well.
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a glance over the top of her take-out cup. He presumed she was well aware of the effect she was having on him. He should probably feel embarrassed, but instead he just grinned.
“A man could get used to greetings like that,” he said.
Her eyelids had fluttered closed and bliss transformed her features as she savored the coffee. “The coffeemaker in my cottage just can’t compete with something from a real café.” She turned the c
up in her hand to read the label. “I can’t believe Caroline’s is still around.” Her cheeks flushed as though she might be recalling the memories of being chased off from under the awning.
“Caroline still runs the place. And, if you’re wondering, she remembers us.” He clucked to call his dog back from sniffing an early morning jogger. “And perfectly well, judging from the way she gave me a sly grin when I told her I was meeting up with you.”
“That is how rumors get started in small towns,” Polly said with a tsk.
Nick laughed. That was definitely true. But in their case he hoped it wasn’t just a rumor. He hoped Polly wasn’t merely playing around, because as she began walking down the beach with him, her shoulder brushing against him, he found himself wanting Roy’s wedding to take forever to plan.
“Okay,” Nick said, “we have the liquor license in place, and the store over on Bayview can deliver our order on Saturday morning. Zoe will liaison the delivery and storage until we need it after the ceremony.”
Polly checked that item off their list. They’d accomplished a lot in the past few hours. The plan of attack they’d made while sipping coffee on the beach that morning seemed to match both their working styles.
“Eva Andrews from the Indigo Bay Chocolate Emporium is doing up eighty heart-shaped chocolates with Roy and Sophia’s initials, to go on each place setting.” Polly checked that off, as well. “And Carla at Glam It Up managed to squeeze Sophia in to get her hair styled on Saturday morning.” She scratched another line across the dwindling list.
The problem was proving to be the menu. Well, any menu, really. That and flowers. They’d called everyone on the list recommended by Zoe. Not a florist or caterer was willing to take on the last-minute job.
Polly glanced at Nick, who was peeking over her shoulder, studying the list resting in her lap. They’d reclaimed the purple beach chairs to make their calls, enjoying the ocean air, with an umbrella stuck in the sand behind them providing shelter from the scorching sun. The beach was filling up as the hours passed, people seeking refuge from the humidity, and Polly had begun to eye the surf with longing. It wouldn’t be long before they would be forced to escape the heat.
She angled the list so Nick could see it better. He was wearing a toffee-colored T-shirt that brought out a similar-toned fleck in his brown eyes.
“For flowers,” he said, his deep voice rumbling in her ear as he continued to peruse the list, “we could just buy whatever flowers they need to get rid of at the florists and plunk them in some mason jars. Or pick some wildflowers if we can find some.”
Polly scrunched her nose without meaning to. “That might be okay for a Texas wedding, but Sophia chose here, and I’m guessing that’s for a reason—and not just to avoid any drama or to keep it small.”
“You know how big Roy’s extended family is—five siblings, fifteen nieces and nephews. They chose here to shake a few off the guest list.”
“Still…” Polly argued.
“It’s either that or plunder Miss Lucille’s garden for her prized bluestars.” He raised an eyebrow and Polly laughed.
“I’m sure our shenanigans led to her putting razor wire around her garden years ago.”
Nick smiled. “Seriously, though, Sophia’s from Texas—as are most of the guests.”
“This is important, Nick. It has to be perfect. Or as close as we can get.”
Roy and Sophia deserved it. They were reaching for that second chance. They were putting their fears and scars aside and giving love a go once more. They were putting their hearts out there, knowing they could be crushed.
It was the least Polly could do, to try and make the day as close to the way they’d envisioned it.
“What’s wrong with good enough?”
“This is a day to remember. It’s going to set the tone for their marriage—the rest of their days together.”
Nick stared at her for a moment and she knew he didn’t quite get it. “I’ll call wildflowers our backup plan,” he finally stated.
Polly nodded reluctantly. Bunches of wildflowers or soon-to-be-discarded items from the florist would be better than no flowers, which was the way things were swiftly heading. Especially since she didn’t have the desire or skill to stay up all night arranging bouquets. She’d done that once for a fund-raiser and she’d vowed never again. And even though Nick was way more involved than Chuck had been for their wedding, even he wasn’t up for creating intricate arrangements.
This was different than her own wedding, obviously. But still, she found it difficult not to compare it to hers, or Nick to Chuck. It was even more difficult when Nick did things that Chuck never would have thought to do, things that should have been hints about their relationship, things she shouldn’t have ignored.
Flowers. She needed to concentrate on the problems at hand, not the whirlwind of emotions being dredged up from her past.
“Didn’t you say your cousin Alexa is coming?” she asked Nick, leaning away so she could breathe a bit better. When he was close she found it difficult to concentrate.
“You think she could put together floral arrangements?” he asked.
From what she’d heard, Alexa had put together a Christmas wedding for Luke Cohen—one that had been postponed from August, and then somehow shoved into a beautiful gathering in what sounded like very short order. If nothing else, Nick’s cousin might know the right person, or back door to knock on here in Indigo Bay, to get things accomplished.
Nick perked up as though catching her train of thought—something she’d begun to count on as the morning progressed. “Or that she might know somebody who can make the magic happen! You’re brilliant.” He tipped forward in his chair, clutching her head to place a noisy kiss on the top of her head.
“I’ll try her again.” He’d left a message earlier, but as he turned his phone over to make the call, it rang. “Speak of the devil…” He grinned and clicked on. “Alexa? We were just talking about you. Yes, of course. Good things.” He smirked at Polly.
As Nick chatted with his cousin, his expression reflected what he was hearing and thinking, making Polly feel as though she was eavesdropping.
“No, not a joke,” he said into the phone. “Really. We’re saving Uncle Roy’s wedding and could use your help. We heard you put together a wedding down here the Christmas before last.”
Nick listened for a long time, before saying, “We don’t expect you to come early.” He screwed his lips into a big frown aimed at Polly before continuing. “If you have advice or contacts, particularly in the area of food and flowers, we sure could use it.”
Polly loved how modest he was. He didn’t try and act as if they had everything under control. He had an endearing amount of humility that made her want to hug him and never let go.
Nick reached over and squeezed her hand, giving her a special smile that felt reserved just for her.
“Oh, you heard about that?” He cringed, withdrawing his hand from Polly’s. He pushed his hat up higher on his head, the tanned skin around his eyes wrinkling as he smiled and said, “Well, you know how things go. You can’t stay in one place forever.” There was a pause and the smile faded. “Yes, and the boys are returning home.”
The breeze had dropped, allowing the heat to press in around them.
Nick listened to Alexa another long moment before saying, “I’m not sure what my next step is yet.” His eyes flicked toward Polly and her senses went on high alert. He was considering her. “It hinges on a few things I’m working on. But I’ll keep your offer in mind. Thanks.”
Did that mean… Was he waiting to see what happened with them before continuing to make future plans? The idea should freak her out. It was too soon. They barely even had what one could call a relationship.
But despite knowing that, her heart warmed. She’d spent a lot of years in a relationship where she wasn’t considered or consulted. It was fit in with Chuck’s life plans or step aside, and to know that Nick was giving whatever this was between
them a chance before moving forward with his life left her feeling as though she might quite possibly be the luckiest woman in the world.
Chapter 7
Yesterday, Polly had made Nick’s entire week with the way she’d lit up when she’d intuited that his decision to take Alexa’s ranch job was dependent on Polly, and how things rolled out for them this week. She could have run for the hills.
And not Texas Hill Country, where Alexa’s ranch was located.
The idea that Polly might be keeping step with him was hopeful. They’d been “dating” for less than two full days, and even though it was going well, he knew he still had to be careful.
He couldn’t help but smile, though. They made an amazing team, working together with a nonverbal flow that allowed them to make short work of that enormous list. No wedding drama. No bridezilla.
He chuckled at the thought.
However, food continued to be a so-far-unsolvable issue. Yesterday they’d struck out, and today they’d moved from phoning restaurants and caterers to begging them in person—with no better luck. But they needed only one place to say the magical word “yes” and they’d be set.
“Food truck?” he asked between licks as he finished Polly’s ice cream cone. They’d decided to walk and think, taking the boardwalk that stretched along the ocean, eating ice cream and pausing to kiss every hundred yards or so.
He was quite liking this whole wedding-planning thing.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“For the wedding meal?”
“Oh, no.” She stopped moving. “You can’t have everyone line up at a food truck!”
“No, like as a catered thing. They cook it and bring it out to everyone.”
Polly pinched her lips together as she considered the idea. “Maybe?”
“I’ll call around. It can be a backup plan.”
“Along with the mason jars of wildflowers.” She sighed. “I wish I knew Sophia better.”