“Well, now I better stop yapping and get back to work. What can I get y’all?”
After taking their orders, Deb stopped over at the new table that had just been seated. Both of the kids began coloring on their paper menus, and Sara took the rare moment of no-questions, stories, or fighting to try to process what had just transpired at the gas station.
Since it had been a private bathroom, she’d taken care of Charlotte and then to Trevor’s great delight, he’d been allowed to go in by himself. Sara and Charlotte had waited at the end of the candy aisle. She’d peered out the glass storefront, expecting to see that Stranger Danger was long gone. Instead, she’d seen him climbing into his truck.
Part of her had been relieved he was leaving, but a bigger part had been disappointed. She hadn’t had a visceral reaction to a man like that since…well, ever. All of her life, she’d waited for that flash of heat, the fireworks, the thing she’d read about in all of the romance novels that she’d poured over since she was in high school to happen to her, but it never had. At least, not until today.
The second her gaze had locked with those haunting green eyes, her entire body had gone up in flames. Every rational, or even irrational, thought had instantly evaporated from her brain. She’d forgotten where she was, what she was doing, even her name. Then, before she’d figured out how to extinguish the blaze, Stranger Danger had spoken. Just one little word. Hi. That’s all it had taken for the heat to spread like a wildfire.
It had consumed her to the point where even trying to get out a simple apology for her son’s rambling had been a struggle. If it weren’t for her munchkins snapping her back to reality, she might’ve spun off into another dimension of outer-space arousal.
When she’d seen the very man she’d shared her close encounter of the sexy kind with was sitting in his truck and was getting ready to leave, it had been more than a little disappointing. She’d waited, expecting any second for the flame igniter to drive into the sunset, or midday sun, never to be seen or heard from again.
This was her life, after all. She didn’t get the man of her dreams. She didn’t get the happily ever after. She didn’t get the knight in shining armor. And that was fine. She’d always been perfectly capable of not only caring for herself, but for her siblings, and then for her own munchkins. And she’d done it alone. No hero, no help, no problem. Her expectations were low when it came to her own luck and happiness. It was just easier that way.
Which was why, when he’d gotten out of his truck and proceeded to fill both of her back tires, taking the time to check each tire with his gauge, she’d been so shocked someone could’ve easily knocked her over with a feather.
Talk about a plot twist.
When they’d left the gas station, she’d walked directly toward him, Trevor and Charlotte each holding one of her hands, and all she’d planned to do was thank him. But when the moment had come, she’d found herself questioning him instead. Sara had wanted to know why. Why would a stranger that was all kinds of sexy danger, take the time to fill up the tires of someone like her?
Sara didn’t have low self-esteem, but she was realistic about her appearance—which was fine. Attractive, even. But today she was not looking her best. When she’d caught her reflection in the mirror while helping Charlotte wash her hands, she’d found not one, but two Cheerios stuck to her blouse. Her hair, which she’d pulled up in a messy bun, was rebelling, and most of it had fallen in her face. The dark circles beneath her eyes were closer to those of a boxer that had gone ten rounds than a single mom who was exhausted. Disheveled would be a kind way to describe her appearance. Hot mess would be more accurate.
Then there was the fact that she had two little ones. One of who had already talked the poor man’s ear off, the other who had just thrown a mini temper tantrum, which Sara was pretty sure he’d witnessed.
So why?
Why had he done it?
Was it out of pity?
Or had he thought Sara couldn’t handle it? That she hadn’t been taking care of oil changes, tire pressure, diapers, doctor visits, chicken pox, dinners, baths, homework, and everything else since she was barely old enough to take care of herself?
For some reason, she had to know.
When he’d simply answered that he couldn’t drive away knowing her tire pressure was low, it was all she could do to not break down in tears. He’d actually just wanted to help her. No ulterior motive. No judgment. He’d simply wanted to make sure she and the kids were okay.
Sara couldn’t remember the last time someone had just wanted to help her. Even before she and Jack had decided to get a divorce, he hadn’t been present, physically or emotionally. Out of the eight years they’d been married, he’d been home a grand total of fourteen months—and that included the seven he’d spent there when he’d gotten home and they’d tried to be a real family.
Which hadn’t worked. Jack was a good guy, but he just wasn’t used to the day in and day out of having kids, and the responsibilities that came along with them.
So to have a man who didn’t even know her, know them, not be able to drive away knowing the tire pressure was low had overwhelmed her. Even now, sitting at the sandwich shop, she wasn’t sure how to process it. Which probably had more to do with the fact she was exhausted, starving, and had made several life-altering decisions over the past week, leaving her emotionally raw and less to do with the kind act of a stranger.
“Here we go.” Deb returned to their table with delicious-smelling food. “Grilled cheese and chips for the princess. Ham and cheese and fries for the prince, and a BLT and potato salad for the queen.”
Charlotte giggled as she lifted her spoon.
“Thankyousomuch,” Trevor rushed out as he stuffed his face with fries.
“Thanks.” Sara smiled up at Deb.
“No problem. Just let me know if you need anything else.”
Lifting her hand, Sara stopped Deb. Her calling them princess, prince, and queen had brought up a question she’d been wondering about. “Actually, I was wondering about the decor.” She motioned her hand to the walls. “It’s adorable and I love it, but I noticed that the gas station had a similar theme.”
Trevor had been the one to point out the three bears on the pumps and only then had Sara put the theme together with the name Goldilocks Gas N’ Go. She wondered if the businesses being fairytale themed had anything to do with the town having a legitimate castle.
“Well, now, this is all fairly new. It’s because of the show.”
“The show?” Sara questioned.
“Fairytale Love,” Deb responded as if it was obvious. “It was filmed up at Stone Castle.”
“I saw the castle!” Trevor raised his hand as if he was answering a question at school.
“Did you see any ghosts?” Deb leaned down and whispered conspiratorially. “Because legend has it it’s haunted.”
Now Trevor’s eyes were the size of baseballs. Her son loved any and all things ghost related.
“It is?” Trevor breathed in reverent wonder.
“That’s what they say.” Deb nodded her head.
Before Trevor went on a rant about why he believed in ghosts and why ghosts were “sooo cool” Sara decided to change the subject.
“You said the show, Fairytale Love was filmed there?” Sara had never watched it, but her sister Shelby had been obsessed. She’d had favorite contestants and Sara had a faint memory of the finale being shocking and “the most romantic thing ever” to quote her sister.
“Sure was.” Deb nodded and there was a sparkle of pride in her eyes. “Soon after it aired, businesses around here started capitalizing on its popularity, adopting different themes, even tweaking their names. The grocery store, Food N’ Stuff became Huff N’ Puff Food N’ Stuff and now has Three Little Pigs on all their buggies. The Snack Shack is now Snow White’s Snack Shack.” She leaned down and lowered her voice once again. “And I heard that they’re going to be reopening Cherry On Top and it’s going to be O
laf’s Cherry On Top. You know Olaf, from the movie—”
“Frozen!” Charlotte squealed.
Trevor was obsessed with ghosts. Shelby was obsessed with Fairytale Love. And Charlotte was equally obsessed with the movie Frozen.
“That’s right!” Deb smiled from ear to ear. “Funny thing about that is, the original owner is actually named Olaf. He retired to Florida but his granddaughter is going to be reopening it. Don’t know much about her, though.” Deb’s penciled-in brows furrowed.
Feeling a little bit like this was conversational double Dutch, Sara decided to jump in when she saw her opening, “Do you know if the Whisper Lake B&B is still open?”
Grandma Betty had stayed at the Whisper Lake B&B during her magical summer. Sara had no idea if it was still around. She’d tried to look it up online but hadn’t gotten very far. All of the information was from decades earlier.
“It sure is. Except now it’s called, Princess and the Pea B&B.”
Goosebumps broke out on her forearms, and it was her turn to ask in reverent wonder, “It is?”
The Princess and the Pea had been Grandma Betty’s favorite fairytale. She’d read it to Sara, Shelby, and Matt every time they spent the night at her house.
Deb nodded. “It has been for years, though, that change had nothing to do with the show. Right after Cliff bought it, oh it has to be over sixty years ago, he changed the name. Course they’re both gone now. God rest their souls.” Deb looked up to the ceiling as she made the sign of the cross before lifting a crucifix that she had hanging around her neck and kissing it. “Karen and Sly have been running it for years, but a little birdie told me the previous owner’s grandson just blew into town, and he’s a sight for sore eyes, if you know what I mean. Anyhoo, it’s up at the top of Lakeview Lane, you can’t miss it.” With another wink, Deb headed back to the kitchen.
As Sara took the first bite of her BLT, she was beginning to think maybe this entire trip hadn’t been such a crazy idea after all. The kids were happy. She’d seen the castle when they’d pulled into Goldilocks, and now she knew the B&B was still open and it was coincidentally named after her grandma’s favorite children’s book. With any luck, she and the kids could get a room at the B&B, and from what Deb had told her, there would be plenty to keep them busy for the week with the festival going on.
Things were falling perfectly into place. If she believed in fate, she’d think that it had a hand in what was going on.
So why did she feel so off balance, so unsettled? The answer to that question immediately materialized as Stranger Danger’s face popped into her mind.
Yep, that would do it.
CHAPTER 4
Austin cut the engine and stared up at the large, two-story, cottage-style B&B. It was eerily identical to the mental picture he’d held on to since the last time he’d seen it, which had been the summer before his senior year of high school. The town had changed slightly. Not a lot, but enough that in his brief drive through it, he’d noticed the differences, especially the names of all the businesses. Gas N’ Go was now Goldilocks Gas N’ Go and had three bears painted on the pumps. And The Diner was now The Drawbridge Diner and even had what looked like a working drawbridge and mote. The Café was now the Cobblestone Café and stonework replaced the brick exterior.
Somehow though, this building had managed to stay frozen in the exact same state for over a decade. It was as if time hadn’t touched this tiny corner of the world. Like it had been hermetically sealed and preserved.
He knew that wasn’t possible. Still, he couldn’t deny that it looked like the paint was chipping off the exterior trim in the same pattern that was in his memory. The back porch dipped slightly to the left, just as he recalled. Even the three small circular patches of dead grass in the yard that had always reminded him of an outline of Mickey Mouse when he was a kid were exactly as he remembered. As were the yellow rose buds that grew in a heart shape on the bush out front.
What was keeping him seated in his parked truck was not the things that were the same, it was the things he knew weren’t.
He would not be seeing his Grandpa Cliff sitting at the kitchen table reading and drinking coffee when he walked through the back screen door.
He would not see his Grandma Alma at the stove wearing one of her floral aprons, cooking soup and swaying in time to the music she’d always had playing on the tiny radio sitting on the counter.
He wouldn’t smell the delicious scent of his grandma’s homemade cookies or her state fair blue ribbon brownies.
He wouldn’t feel the heavy pat of his grandpa’s large hand on his back as he pulled him into one of his famous bear hugs.
He wouldn’t sit beside his grandma as they worked on crossword puzzles and he listened to her tell stories about her time as a welder during the war.
He wouldn’t hear the booming sound of his grandpa’s voice as he called the cats for dinner.
Emotion caused a lump to form in Austin’s throat as memories he’d buried out of self-preservation resurfaced. There were three people in this world that had loved him unconditionally, cared for him and raised him. His mother and his grandparents. And they were all gone. He’d never known his dad who’d passed away when he was three. He’d been an NYC police officer and had died in the line of duty.
He’d seen pictures. Heard stories. But he didn’t have any memories of his father that were his own. It had been hard growing up without a dad. He wished he’d known him before he passed—that he had memories, not just stories, to hold on to.
But now that he knew the difference between losing someone you knew and loved, and losing someone who holds a significant place in your life but that you never knew, he was starting to think he would choose the latter. The pain of knowing what you’re missing was so much worse than the unknown. Maybe it wasn’t better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Knowing that he couldn’t put off the inevitable forever, Austin took in a deep breath and headed inside the B&B. The third wooden step squeaked beneath his boot, and he froze. The memory of his grandma hollering from the kitchen for his grandpa to, “Do something about that dang step!” flooded back to him.
A year ago, almost to the day, he’d been shot during a mission that had ended in his unit being backed into an ambush. The pain had been searing, and he’d passed out while bullets were still flying around him. He’d thought that was it. He was done.
When he’d woken up in a hospital in Munich, he’d been shocked he was still alive. Then, after a few months of physical therapy, he’d received a medical discharge and had come back stateside, where he’d had more surprises in store for him. The first shock he’d had was that Brielle was pregnant. She hadn’t said a word to him during their FaceTime calls. But when he’d walked in and seen her coming down the stairs, the evidence was indisputable. He naively—it turned out—assumed that it was his. He’d seen her a few months before he’d been shot. He’d actually been happy he was going to be a dad, he’d thought that maybe things really did happen for a reason.
But that joy was short lived. Before she even made it to the bottom step she was bawling and apologizing. That’s when his best friend since grade school walked out of the bedroom, in a towel. They explained that he wasn’t the father. That they’d been having an affair for close to two years and had unprotected sex.
He didn’t yell. Didn’t get mad. Just walked calmly into his bedroom, grabbed the small safe he kept in his closet with important documents and the mail that had come while he was overseas. That’s where he found the paperwork that his grandparents had left the B&B to him. It had come as quite a shock. They’d never discussed it with him but he guessed it made sense that they would. His father had been their only son, and he was their only grandchild.
It had still been a lot to take in, which was why he’d gone and stayed with the only family he had left down in Texas. And why a visit that was supposed to be a few weeks had turned into a nine-month stay. Hearing the squeak an
d facing the truth—that he’d never hear his grandma hollering at his grandpa to fix it. That was exactly the kind of thing he’d been dreading.
But his procrastination was over. He was here now. He needed to face this.
The lump in his throat grew even larger as he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and go inside. He braced himself for the crash of bittersweet nostalgia he was sure would hit him but never did.
Unlike the exterior of the house, the interior was barely recognizable. The kitchen had been painted at some point, so instead of the canary yellow that had been his grandma’s signature color, the walls were now a light sky blue. The cabinets had gone from dark oak stain to off-white. The vintage stove and refrigerator had been replaced with updated models. There was still linoleum flooring, but it was a different pattern.
The only thing that had remained the same was the large round table that sat in the far left corner of the room. Although, even that was sporting a fresh coat of paint that matched the cabinets.
Austin crossed the small kitchen and ran his fingers along the back edge of his grandpa’s chair. The one he’d sat in to eat, read, do paperwork, and visit with his wife as she cooked. Instead of a flashback of his grandpa seated in his spot, Austin pictured himself seated at the table and the woman at the gas station singing along to the radio as her kids ran through the kitchen laughing and chasing a dog.
A dog. Kids. That woman.
What the hell?
Where had that come from? An even better question was why did it make him feel happy?
“Well, hello there, young man. Can I help you?”
Austin turned to find a thin woman standing in the doorway of the kitchen holding a basket of towels. Her gray hair was worn in a bun. If he had to guess, he’d say she looked to be in her seventies.
It wasn’t often that anyone snuck up on Austin. As a sniper, he’d been trained to notice everything from a change in the wind, to the sound of a tree branch being crunched a hundred yards out. So the fact this woman had gotten the jump on him was evidence she either was a trained ninja, or the vision that had captivated him had been strong enough to override every one of his senses.
Whisper of Temptation (Whisper Lake Book 4) Page 3