by Olivia Miles
Even now, Brooke could still remember Kyle’s response to that: “Plans changed.”
Yes, Brooke thought sadly. They had. Then, and now.
She was relieved to see that her shop window was nearly within reach now, the dress in the window lit up by a string of fairy lights she’d draped over the base of the bay window.
“Well, I should get out of these wet clothes.”
She caught the quirk of his mouth and immediately regretted her choice of words.
She pinched her mouth as she fished for her key, which seemed to have sunk to the bottom of her oversized tote.
“Need any help?” he asked.
“You’ve helped enough for one night,” she replied, gripping the metal object at the bottom of the bag. Her hands fumbled as she jammed it through the old-fashioned keyhole. Darn thing stuck every time.
She turned, giving him one last, tight smile, hating the way her heart sped up at the sight of his face, so close to hers, so patient. So handsome. No other man had ever made her stomach flip over the way he did.
Puppy love, she told herself. First love. They have a lasting impression, however impractical.
“Thank you for the umbrella,” she said as she heard the lock click. The door pushed open. Freedom was only a staircase away.
But from the look in his eyes, Kyle wasn’t quite finished with the night.
Perhaps, she realized, by the way her chest was rising and falling with each breath, she wasn’t either.
It had never been easy to walk away from Kyle. And never without looking back.
“We have to schedule our next meet-up,” he said, emphasizing his word choice from yesterday.
“I would think tonight counts as something,” she said.
With raised eyebrows, he motioned down the street to the bookshop. “A walk from here to there? Sorry, hon, that’s par for the course living in such a small town. Bound to happen…countless times.”
Countless times? She realized this was probably true. That even after their meet-ups were over and done with, she wouldn’t be free of him. She’d just be….free. Free to move on. Marry again.
She swallowed hard, not liking that thought. It was one thing to know they had each moved on. It was another to witness it.
Feeling the need to protect herself, she folded her arms across her chest.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking we’d go to Firefly Café.”
“The café?” She didn’t know if she should be relieved or horrified that it was now owned by her cousin Amelia. Amelia was a trusting type, not prone to gossip or speculation, but she would be undoubtedly curious—who wouldn’t be? And much like the pub at the Carriage House Inn, the café was very popular. “I thought you said we’d go somewhere less…crowded.” Instantly, she regretted saying anything.
He raised an eyebrow. “Something just the two of us? And here I thought you were still so eager to get away from me.”
She sighed. “Fine. The café.”
“The café,” he said with a nod. “Tuesday night special is shrimp and grits. Amelia kept the tradition going when she took over.”
If he was trying to bribe her, it wouldn’t work, even if her mouth did water at the prospect of one of her favorite dishes that used to be made by the former owner of the restaurant. She could enjoy it on her own, without his company.
Only right now, that didn’t seem like much of an option.
“I don’t see much point in arguing.” If they walked in together, then it would most certainly raise eyebrows. “What are we supposed to tell people who are surprised to see us together?”
“You mean they don’t all know we’re still married?”
Seeing the look of shock on her face, he burst out laughing. It was a loud, rumbling sound, and one that she’d missed, oh so much.
She couldn’t help but smile, knowing now that he had been teasing her.
“So Ryan doesn’t know?” She assumed that if Kyle’s mother knew the truth, it would have gotten back to her own family by now. Their mothers were friendly.
Kyle gave a look that showed he didn’t care. “They all assumed the obvious. I never bothered to set the record straight. The way I see it, what happened between you and me is between us. And I’d like it to stay that way. So if we want to go to dinner, then we’ll go to dinner.”
And he wanted to go to dinner. She pulled in a breath, anxiety kicking in when she realized she was mildly flattered by this, that a part of him still cared. That maybe, he always had, even when she’d assumed he didn’t.
“Seven o’clock?” His grin was cocky, not much different than it had been back in high school when she’d first started to notice him in a new, exciting way.
“As good a time as any, I suppose,” she said, tossing up her hands.
He shoved his free hand in his pocket, seeming amused by her lack of enthusiasm, as he backed away, into the rain. “Don’t worry, I promise to make it worth your while, and at least you know you’ll be getting a good meal out of it.”
There was only one thing she wanted out of another tense evening with Kyle, but she kept her mouth shut and nodded in agreement. “Tuesday it is then.”
By then she’d be a third of the way through the terms of their agreement. And one step closer to her goal.
Eye on the prize, she reminded herself as she trudged up the dark stairs to her empty apartment.
8
On Tuesday night, Brooke checked the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes, reluctantly set her sketches for Candy’s wedding gown to the side, smoothed her hair, and slipped into a pale pink blouse and jeans that were far more comfortable than the pencil skirt and heels she’d been wearing for the past eight hours.
Her apartment was coming together, now that her remaining belongings had all been delivered, but she was yet to make it feel like home. The tall windows would benefit from long drapes, and she saw little sense in buying some when she could make her own. A few throw pillows for the bed might help, and, considering that her space was nearly quadruple the size of her New York apartment, she might browse the shops in town for a coffee table and armchair.
Maybe her mother would even be willing to part with a few things from the attic—Brooke wasn’t afraid to tackle a reupholstery project.
She nearly laughed at herself, and she could hear her mother doing the same. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate with getting her business off the ground. She hadn’t sat at her sewing machine since opening the doors, even though she’d hoped to continue to make sample gowns for clients who wanted to purchase something off the rack. But keeping busy kept her mind busy. And the sooner this apartment felt like home, the better.
Maybe it would make her stop thinking of the other place in town that had once been her home.
With a sigh, she grabbed her tote and walked to the café, which took all of five minutes, even if she did practically drag herself there, and stop to look in every single shop window until she met the path down to the lakefront.
She was early, but it beat sitting around the apartment, dreading the thought of an evening with Kyle almost as much as she felt anticipation toward it. Remembering that Maddie’s new bakery was just next door to Firefly Café, she decided to pop in for a cup of coffee beforehand.
Buttercream Bakery was as beautiful as anything she had seen in all her years of living in New York, and she wasn’t shy in telling her cousin so the moment she spotted her.
“You should come in one morning when we’re fully stocked,” Maddie said, pointing to the nearly empty bakery case. “We’re pretty picked over by the dinner hour, but once I have more help, I think we’ll stay open later a few nights a week.”
“Growing as you go then?” It was the same strategy Brooke had for herself, but then, she and Maddie had both learned from the best, hadn’t they? They’d watched their fathers work together to take over the orchard and grow it into what it was today. And Britt was taking it one step fu
rther now that she was running operations—a future generation of Conway women, taking the town by its reins.
She smiled at that. It felt good. Comfortable. And no matter what her peers back in Manhattan might say, it felt like an accomplishment.
“I’m trying,” Maddie admitted. Her eyebrows shot up. “It was a little daunting at first. Big shoes to fill and all.”
Brooke was relieved to hear that she wasn’t alone with these feelings. She’d started to wonder if she’d ever find time to sew the dresses she’d been commissioned to make if she was busy tending to customers all day—not that she could complain about this. From the looks of the bakery, demand was not an issue for Maddie either.
“Nearly every table is filled,” she commented. “You’re doing something right.”
She wanted to believe the same for herself, but it was hard to shake the words of her former boss. The belief that she had bigger aspirations than she was capable of fulfilling.
“So long as people keep coming back, I tell myself that,” Maddie said with a shrug. “But that first week was certainly nerve-racking.”
“Tell me about it,” Brooke confessed. “I see how Gabby can run her business in her sleep and I don’t know how she does it. I still jump every time the door to my shop opens!”
“So do I!” Maddie burst out laughing, and Brooke joined in. It was a good, hearty laugh, the kind that stayed with you, the good feelings lasting long after the moment had passed. It was the reason she had come back here. The reason she would stay.
The reason why it is was worth suffering through one more meeting with Kyle. She was a busy woman; surely he had to respect that. Just like he’d have to accept that there was no point to these little get-togethers. She’d see to that tonight.
“What can I get you?” Maddie scanned the half-empty plates of scones, brownies, and cookies. “I have one more double chocolate chip?”
It was tempting, but Brooke shook her head. “Another day. Tonight I’ll just have coffee. I’m going over to the café for dinner.” The thought of seeing Kyle again filled her with dread.
“With Gabby? I’m closing up soon and I didn’t have time to stop for lunch. I could meet you guys in a bit? Shrimp and grits is the special on Tuesdays this month.”
So she’d heard. Brooke would have loved nothing more than to have a lighthearted meal with her sister and cousin, so much so that she made a mental note to do that soon. “I’m not meeting Gabby.”
She paused, wondering how she could even explain her reason for meeting Kyle. As far as everyone in town knew, their marriage had ended—in every possible way—years ago. That there was nothing left between them to even discuss.
“Oh? One of your friends from school then?” Maddie asked conversationally as she filled a mug with coffee.
Again, a nice idea, and much more appealing than the thought of sitting across from her ex—or not so ex—husband for an hour.
And it had better not be more than an hour.
She pulled in a breath. “Kyle asked to meet me.”
Maddie’s eyes went round. She didn’t blink for several seconds. “Kyle? Why?”
Good question, Brooke thought ruefully. She felt her eyes hood. “I think he just wants to make sure things are civil between us, with me being back in town and everything.”
It was partially true, she figured, and maybe that would be one good outcome from all of this. In a town this small, it would be much easier if everyone could get along.
Maddie seemed to relax and nodded her head. “That makes sense. But…it won’t be awkward?”
Brooke raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it will be awkward all right.”
She laughed, and Maddie laughed too, and for a brief, fuzzy moment, she didn’t feel so alone in the world. She had someone on her side. A lot of them, actually.
But not Kyle, she thought. He was the one person who was supposed to be on her side, and who had let her down instead.
*
Kyle was already seated at a table near the window when Brooke walked into the café a few moments later through the arched doorway that connected Maddie’s bakery to Amelia’s establishment. Long ago, the café had been owned by another woman, and Brooke was happy that her cousin had decided to keep the restaurant going under a new name. These were the types of places that made coming back to Blue Harbor easier. It helped to know that some things hadn’t changed in her absence.
But Kyle…well, he hadn’t changed either, and Brooke didn’t know what to make of that. Would she have been happier to hear that he’d met someone, was planning to marry again, maybe start a family?
She’d managed not to think about that scenario any more than she stopped herself from picturing what he’d looked like on their wedding day, or the night he’d proposed, or countless other times that had become so routine they all blended together until the memories were no longer clear.
But now everything was very clear. Too clear. The sight of him made her pull a sharp intake of breath. She’d half expected jeans and a tee—something he wore to the pub, or at least had when she knew him. But tonight he was wearing a dress shirt, and his hair looked freshly combed, and she had to steady herself for a moment, thinking that he’d possibly dressed up for her. That she still mattered to him.
Because if she did…Well, she didn’t quite know how to feel about that.
She glanced at the counter as she approached the table, seeing only an unfamiliar face that must be one of Amelia’s part-time staff. Good. Another sweep of the room didn’t reveal anyone she knew. It was a Tuesday night, so the café was quiet.
Maybe, it was too quiet.
Kyle’s expression lifted and he stood as she approached. “I’d hoped to sit out on the deck, but the breeze is strong this evening and I know how you get cold.”
She told herself not to read too far into that. It was true, she liked to have a sweater or scarf on her at all times because the lake effect here in Blue Harbor could be as tricky as air-conditioning when it came to staying comfortable. It was just one simple small detail about her, as common as, say, the color of her eyes.
She laughed away her nervous energy by motioning to her cardigan tucked into her bag. “You know me,” she said in a joking voice before he caught her eye sharply.
“Every inch of you.”
She pinched her mouth and took her seat, shifting uncomfortably as Kyle did the same. Face to face across the table from him for an entire meal. Her stomach dropped as she hooked her bag over the back of her chair.
“Amelia working tonight?” she asked, hoping to keep the conversation light, the topics far from personal.
“If she is, I didn’t see her,” Kyle said. After a beat, he added, “But I did see Candy.”
She resisted a smile as their eyes locked, and his gleamed with familiar amusement.
“So you know Candy then?” Not that she should be surprised. This was a small town.
“She’s made her presence around town known,” he said mildly. “And I see her at the Sunday market sometimes.”
The Sunday market was a tradition at Conway Orchard, a defining part of her week growing up when the entire family would gather to sell local produce and baked goods. She shouldn’t be surprised that he still went, considering most of the town turned out at least once a month, though some came weekly. He had been close to her family, in the same grade as Amelia, and no one had any bad feelings toward him.
“I didn’t realize you still went there,” she commented.
“I still live in this town.” He shrugged, his gaze locking hers. “Had to hold onto some things.”
She felt her heart pick up speed until she looked away. “It seems my cousins have come to embrace the woman their father is marrying.” Brooke looked at the menu, but she couldn’t properly concentrate, even though she was eager to see what Amelia had done with the place. She set it back down, glancing at him. “People move on, I suppose.”
“Have you?”
The question was s
o frank, and she was unprepared for it, that she sputtered on the water she’d just reached for.
“Are you asking if I’m in a relationship?” She felt hot in the cheeks now. He raised a single eyebrow. “Not…at the moment.”
She stared at her menu, saying nothing more, and eventually, she heard Kyle say, “Me either, in case you were wondering.”
She looked up, giving a tight smile. “I wasn’t.”
“Or in case you already knew.” His mouth twitched.
She pulled in a breath and sat back against her chair. “It’s a small town and all of my family lives here. I hear things, obviously. And last I knew our moms were still friends.”
He nodded. “Good friends.”
She gave him a wary look, not even sure why she was still curious about his recent life. “You mean to tell me that you never dated anyone seriously in all this time?”
“I guess I don’t let go of things easily.”
“You established that when you weren’t willing to sell the pub,” she replied before she could stop herself.
The silence was heavy, and Brooke looked at the counter, now desperate to see Candy or Amelia. Let them wonder what they would, so long as they saved her.
Alas, nothing. They must be in the kitchen.
“Candy is a client, actually,” she said lightly, again hoping to steer the conversation back to common ground. “They’re getting married in July.”
“You’ll be going to the wedding then?”
She stared at him as if she’d misheard him. “Of course. I’m family.”
“Just wasn’t sure you’d still be here.”
“Of course I’ll still be here. I’m—”
He held up a hand. “Here to stay.”
“Is there going to be a problem with that?” She set the menu down wearily. “Look, we left things on bad terms, but—”
Just then his eyes slid and his face broke into a grin. “Candy!”
Convenient timing? She supposed she should be grateful for the interruption before things went down the same path as their last date.