Return to Me (Blue Harbor Book 5)

by Olivia Miles

  She eyed him, hoping that he picked up on the urgency of the matter, on the unspoken topic that both of them knew, and only them.

  At least, she assumed it was only them. Surely if word got out that she and Kyle had never officially filed for divorce, it would have spread through town faster than a barn fire.

  Still, she felt shifty when Jackson reappeared, barely able to suppress his amusement at their expense, and asked if he could get her anything.

  “Four glasses of wine for my cousins,” she said.

  “On the house, as promised.” He winked.

  Nope. Nothing unusual there. Just Jackson being Jackson. Still, she’d breathe a lot easier once she and Kyle had cleared the air. It was easy to not worry about papers and legalities when she was hundreds of miles away. But being back here, there needed to be rules. And boundaries. And signatures.

  A clean break for a fresh start.

  Jackson set the glasses on the bar and began pouring.

  “What is it you’d like to talk about?” Kyle asked blankly.

  Brooke’s eyes darted to Jackson, who didn’t bother to hide his interest.

  She stifled an eye roll. “Now isn’t the time. I thought…” Oh, she didn’t know what she’d thought! That she could waltz over to him, tell him they needed a divorce, and be done with it?

  That would certainly be nice, but she had the sense it wouldn’t be so easy.

  “I thought that we should talk.” She gave him a long look, trying her best to ignore the pull in her gut that came from being this close to him again, from staring into his eyes, the way she had so many other times, back when it filled her with longing, and lust.

  She looked away.

  He didn’t ask what she wanted to discuss, but his neutral expression told her that he probably knew. Maybe he’d been waiting for it.

  Maybe, she thought with a squeeze of her stomach, he had been wishing for it.

  “I’m usually at Harrison’s,” he said. “When I’m not home.”

  She narrowed her eyes on that word. Home. Surely he wasn’t implying the little cottage down near the cove with the view of the lake barely visible through the dense trees? How many mornings had she lay on the cool white cotton sheets and looked out over that view?

  Not many.

  Jackson slid the four glasses of wine to her and disappeared without a word. She struggled to hold them all, happy for the excuse to end this conversation, even if she had initiated it.

  “This is a busy week for me. I’m getting my shop off the ground, but I’ll find you once I have a chance.”

  “I’ll be here,” he said, giving her a long, steady, dare she say suggestive look. “I’ve always been here.”

  She blinked at him, unsure what he meant or what he wanted her to say, much less think.

  But yes, he had always been here, because he’d chosen to stay behind.

  Really, he’d chosen to let her go.

  .

  4

  Brooke was grateful for the work that kept her occupied every waking hour of the following days. She was so busy hanging framed prints, setting up the dressing rooms, which combined totaled close to the entire square footage of her New York City apartment, and selecting which gown she would display in the window for her opening week, that she barely had time to think about Kyle or that fact that he was simply down the street.

  The only time she thought of him at all was when she sat down at her newly delivered desk in the corner of the shop, where she could work on a slim white laptop while keeping an eye on the door. The back office was set up with her sewing machine and table, and right off it was the storage room, stacked high with bolts of fabric arranged by color. She had minimal inventory to start with—about twenty gowns in a standard size—as she suspected that the majority of her work would be custom, which suited her just fine. She loved the idea of working closely with a client, hearing their vision, giving them new ideas, and then delivering the wedding dress of their dreams.

  Gabby had been helpful, bringing by bunches of white tulips and even tending to the planting in the formerly empty black urns that flanked the front door of the shop. Gus had been installing the sign that day, and Gabby had stood back and admired it with approval.

  “Something Blue. I like it!”

  “Not very original, but considering we live in Blue Harbor, it made sense.” Brooke liked the name, though, and it was one of the reasons that she ultimately chose to go with one of her simple ivory satin gowns in the window—the one that boasted a big blue sash. The dress was so perfect that she decided to leave it simple, with no flowers or confetti or anything else to take attention away. Just a dress to build a dream on.

  Brooke sighed, thinking that had she been able to turn back the clock, she might have chosen this dress for her own wedding. Instead, she’d worn something from a catalog, that she’d altered herself, seeing as she was a better seamstress than her mother or sisters. At the time it had been the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. Perfect really: a sweetheart bodice of lace with a soft tulle skirt that flowed when she walked and moved like a dream.

  A dress she had built a dream on. A dream that she had thought Kyle shared.

  She righted herself, shaking away the cobwebs of her past, even though they were determined to creep back in, and stick. There was no sense in thinking about that now. Her mind was on other brides. On their special day. She hadn’t even considered getting remarried. Technically, she couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

  She’d waited until her opening day to pull the curtains from the front picture window, letting the sunlight pour through the window, giving the gown the light and airy feeling that it deserved, and bringing the entire room to life. Eventually, she might switch to appointments only, but for now, she needed all the walk-ins she could get.

  She almost jumped when the bells over the door chimed within minutes of her turning the sign on the door. She had slipped into the back office, not wanting to stare at a door and wait for it to open, and now she hurried as quickly as she could back to the storefront, trying not to look as nervous as she felt.

  A woman with big, blond, curly hair was admiring the dress in the window, and then gasped when she saw the racks of samples that Brooke had worked on in her spare time over the past couple of years. She’d built up quite a collection. Enough to make the room feel filled but still spacious. Enough to demonstrate her range, but clearly define her style, which was classic, but fresh, or at least that’s what she liked to think.

  Her boss back in New York had thought otherwise. Thought that Brooke was trying too hard. That she should stick with what she knew. In other words, tried and true, boring designs, for everyday wear. Nothing that excited Brooke or challenged her creative spirit. And even then, she’d managed to come up short.

  “Can I help you?” Brooke asked, careful to give the client space to browse. She remembered when the store was a women’s clothing shop that Patsy would pounce on customers as soon as they walked in the door, often following them around the room as they considered blouses, sweaters, and dresses. She was never shy with her opinion, either.

  “I have been eagerly waiting for this store to open since the moment I heard about it!” The woman flashed her a big smile, and Brooke relaxed.

  “When is your big day?” she asked the woman.

  “Late July.” The woman gave her another smile. “After the Cherry Festival, mind you, because there is no way that I’m going to miss that event, even for my honeymoon. You’ll be invited, of course.”

  Brooke blinked as it all clicked. This was Candy! Of course, she would be the first one in her shop if she was as eager as her cousins claimed her to be. Still, Brooke couldn’t help but feel a little deflated that the first customer was someone she was going to be related to, meaning the visit fell under family support.

  “You’re marrying my Uncle Dennis!” She was everything that Britt and her sisters had claimed her to be. And more.

  Candy thrust out her hand s
o that Brooke could admire the diamond engagement ring. She was slightly taken aback, only to realize that this was probably something she should get used to. Her customers would be engaged, eager to share their happiness. It was the most blissful period of their life.

  At least, it had been for her. After that, well, reality set in. And fast.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, admiring the stone. She couldn’t help but also notice Candy’s bright pink painted nails, which also matched the polish on her toes peeking out of her open-toed shoes. She didn’t need to ask what color theme Candy had chosen for her big day. It was fairly obvious. Still, she wanted to make conversation. And get to know her new aunt.

  “Do you have much planned?”

  Candy’s eyes burst open and she rolled back her head, laughing so loudly and with such unabashed energy that Brooke couldn’t help but join in, even though she suspected she was the brunt of the joke.

  “Oh, honey, I have an entire binder busting open with ideas. I’ve only been planning my wedding since I was ten!”

  First marriage then. Even though it wasn’t Dennis’s, Brooke felt it was safe to assume that Candy would want the biggest, whitest dress she could find. With a veil and a train. And a garter.

  Possibly, she’d try to get Uncle Dennis to play that little game where he removed it with his teeth while everyone stood in a circle, watching. Brooke could only hope that there would be an open bar.

  Candy pulled her tote from her shoulder and fished out a large binder. She hadn’t been joking or exaggerating. Brooke blinked in surprise at the heft of the thing.

  “That’s impressive!” She could immediately tell that if Candy was organized like her, they would get along fine. Brooke couldn’t go anywhere without her planner these days. She loved nothing more than sitting down to it each night and outlining her following day. It eased her mind. Calmed her.

  Some might say it gave her a false sense of security.

  “Oh, this is nothing. This binder here is just for my dress ideas,” Candy said. “You should see my floral binder. I’m going over to see Gabby if I have time before I’m needed back at the café.”

  Brooke could only assume that she would be hearing about it from her sister, and soon.

  “Amelia mentioned that you work for her.” Brooke left off the part that Amelia had also mentioned on Saturday night that she sometimes needed to send Candy on long errands, just to get a moment’s peace. No doubt Candy’s wedding planning was coming in handy lately.

  Sure enough, Candy beamed. “And she has been so generous when it comes to me needing time for this wedding!”

  “I can see you’ve thought it all out.” Brooke eyed the binder, wondered what could be in there.

  “I must have a thousand ideas,” Candy said gaily. “I want it to be perfect.”

  Brooke felt her smile slip. Perfect set the bar high—both for a dress and a marriage.

  She swallowed hard, and said a little weakly, “Well, we could sit down and you can show me? Or maybe if you look around, something will jump out at you?”

  Candy walked over to the sitting area that Brooke had set up and dropped her binder onto the white marble coffee table with a thud. The thing weighed so much that Brooke took a subtle peek to make sure no damage had been made to her new purchase. Instead of sitting down on one of the blush-colored velvet chairs that Brooke had ordered for the shop, Candy scurried over to another rack of dresses.

  “Oh, it’s so hard to choose! They’re all so wonderful. Everyone in your family told me how talented you were, but this has exceeded my expectations!”

  Brooke felt her cheeks flush at the compliment, which she took as sincere, even if Candy was technically family. Almost.

  “It’s been a life’s dream, honestly,” she admitted. Not the wedding dress part, technically, that had come later. But being in full control of her creativity had always been the dream.

  Being back in Blue Harbor had not, she thought, inhaling a sigh. But as she’d learned over the years, nothing ever went completely as planned.

  “You don’t miss New York?” Candy asked as she absentmindedly sifted through a rack of dresses.

  Brooke considered that for a moment. Once, she couldn’t get to New York fast enough. Once, that had been her life’s dream, to live in the big city, to be a part of the fashion industry, to be right in the pack, at the center of the action.

  It was all she’d wanted. More than anything.

  More, she thought looking back, than Kyle.

  She swallowed against the guilt that always weighed heavy in her chest when she thought back on that time in her life.

  “New York was where I needed to be for my twenties,” Brooke said matter-of-factly. “But I accomplished everything I wanted. I traveled. I worked for a major designer.”

  “And then you got fired?” Candy winced dramatically and bit her lip. “Sorry, hon. Your mother told me.”

  Brooke shrugged it off. No sense in getting defensive over the facts, even if it did sting. She’d be lying if she said her ego hadn’t been bruised until Gabby had given her a pep talk over the phone and insisted that this was a blessing in disguise, that it wasn’t that she wasn’t good enough. It was that she was too good.

  She smiled now thinking of her sister. That kind of support made coming back here worth everything. Even seeing Kyle.

  “It’s okay. It wasn’t my dream job after all. I always wanted to bring my visions to life. And if I can do that while being around my family, all the better.”

  “Family.” Candy held out her arms and wiggled her fingers. “Can I? Sorry, I’m a hugger.”

  Brooke bit her lip to keep from laughing. This woman couldn’t be more different than her Aunt Elizabeth had been, but she was warm and open and welcoming. And she was a customer. She was everything that Brooke needed right now.

  She shrugged her agreement and let Candy pull her in for a long, squishy hug, which Brooke had to admit did feel good. Since returning to Blue Harbor, she’d been hugged at least a dozen times, which was probably more than she’d been hugged in all of her years in New York, where the double air kiss was more standard.

  “Family!” Candy said, pulling back and giving her a long look. “My, you’re just as pretty as your sisters!”

  Brooke blushed again. Everyone knew that Gabby was the real beauty in the family. And still single. What did that say for her own chance of finding love again?

  She halted that thought immediately. Honestly, it was the opening day of her shop! She had a willing customer standing before her. And she was technically still a married woman! She absolutely could not even entertain the thought of dating again. It was the dresses, and Candy’s excitement. It was hard not to get swept away.

  That had been by design. It wasn’t supposed to be a trap.

  Quickly, she turned her focus back to Candy. “Let’s take a few moments to look through your binder. Can I get you a tea or coffee?”

  “Tea, please,” Candy said with a light in her eye. “Extra sugar. In case my name doesn’t already give you a hint, I like things sweet.”

  *

  By the time Candy left the shop, Brooke was exhausted and her hand was cramped from writing down so many ideas. There had been no further patrons, not that she had expected a flood of customers, though that would have been nice. Still, she had one firm client and some design ideas to sketch that would keep her busy for the remainder of the afternoon. Seeing as it was already lunchtime, she saw no reason not to take a short break and stretch her legs.

  Normally she might have popped by Sweet Stems to see if Gabby wanted to grab something from the café, but knowing that Candy was headed that way was enough to make her rethink her plans.

  And get the conversation with Kyle over with, she thought, as her stomach turned with dread.

  She turned the sign on her door, locked it behind her, and walked down Main Street in her heels and shift dress, feeling more the young, naïve girl who had marched down the aisle to ta
ke Kyle’s hand rather than the confident, successful businesswoman that the reflection in the store windows claimed her to be. She could dress any part, but feeling it was a very different thing, and right now, she felt nearly as out of place in her hometown as she had her first few months in New York.

  With any luck, Kyle would only see her outward appearance, not her innermost feelings.

  Really, she probably didn’t need any luck at all. A request for a divorce, after nearly six years apart and no contact during that entire time, was long overdue. Surely he was just as eager as she was to end things once and for all.

  Harrison’s was down at the next block and across the street, and Brooke hurried her pace so she wouldn’t lose her nerve. But as she approached the weathered wood door with the rusty, oversized handle, she hesitated, only before reminding herself that this had to be done. For her business. For herself.

  Stick to the plan, she scolded herself firmly, even if yet again, Kyle had the power to complicate things. Kyle may not have wanted to support her dream all those years ago, but she wasn’t going to let him stop her now.

  With that, she flung open the door and blinked against the change of light. Harrison’s had always been dark inside, with the blinds pulled tight most weeks of the year, but still, it was an adjustment from the sunny day outside.

  She scanned the room, not surprised to find that it hadn’t changed at all, just as her sisters had said. That it was the same nautical-themed bar that it had always been, since before Kyle took over. It was a time warp. Or a landmark, as some might say.

  But to her, it was her nemesis. It was because of this pub, and Kyle’s insistence on holding onto the past, that they hadn’t been able to look to the future together.

  Behind the bar, she spotted him, his back to her, his arms folded across his chest, deep in what appeared to be a tense discussion with Ryan of all people. Ryan, the best man at their wedding, of course, Ryan who had already spotted her and was now giving an exaggerated look of shock, clutching his chest as his eyes gleamed.