Ben made his way through the farmers’ market, aware of the looks he was getting in his uniform. Most people nodded politely and said hello, knowing him by name. Others weren’t so friendly. This was the portion of the population he’d had to arrest on drunken Friday nights, or pull over for going fifty in a twenty-five. He was used to it. All part of being a police officer in a small town. You weren’t going to avoid the folks who didn’t like you.
He glanced around at the stands, their Fourth of July streamers billowing in the breeze. He hadn’t seen Gabe Mohatt for a few weeks now, and he couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Maybe he simply left town after the CPS investigation, sick of the law in general. God knows his family would be better off. Ben still had an unsettling feeling about it, though. Gabe wasn’t the type to go down without a fight. Then again, Ben always expected trouble, whether it was likely to happen or not.
He walked slowly through the crowd, keeping an eye out for shoplifters or arguments among the vendors, which weren’t uncommon. It was a nice Saturday afternoon—warm for the coast, which also meant the market was packed today, with a lot of people looped from the beer tent a few yards away. Tomorrow was the Fourth, and the atmosphere was already buzzing.
As for how he and Gracie would be spending the holiday, they were going to have Isabel, Jason and the boys over to barbecue hot dogs, and do sparklers in the backyard. A far cry from his bachelor days, when he would’ve closed that beer tent down himself.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he stopped in front of a flower stand and looked down at the bouquets. Daisies, lilies...lots of other things that he couldn’t name, but that reminded him of his mom’s garden growing up. He’d picked flowers for his prom date from that garden. He’d gone with a snobby girl named Rebecca who hadn’t wanted to take a picture because her hair hadn’t looked right. He couldn’t even remember why he’d asked her now. In fact, he couldn’t even remember what had drawn him to Sam in the first place. They’d never been right for each other. Never.
He stared down at the flowers, and for the first time, maybe ever, there was a feeling of relief deep inside. Not at her leaving, exactly. And sure as hell not at her leaving Gracie. But maybe it was knowing that if she hadn’t done something, he never would have. He would’ve stayed with her forever, because he didn’t quit on his family.
So, she’d freed him. The question now was, what was he going to do with that freedom? What was he going to do with his future?
Ben looked up when a young woman approached from behind the table. She was pretty—red hair pulled into a ponytail, a green apron tied snug around her waist. She smiled up at him, and he recognized that smile. There was some insinuation there. Probably the uniform. He’d found that old theory to be absolutely true, which, for his single officers, was a definite perk of the job.
“Bellis perennis,” she said, her pink lips glistening.
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s the scientific name. But it sounds much more impressive than what they’re actually called, which is the common daisy.”
He looked back down at the flowers. “Oh.”
“Are you shopping for someone special?” she asked. “We can make you a bouquet if you don’t see anything you like.”
He’d had his hands splayed out on the table, and her gaze flickered to his left one. She was wondering if he was married. Definitely the uniform.
He took a step back and put them in his pockets. “No,” he said. “Just looking. They’re very pretty.”
“Thank you. We’ll be here next week, too. Every Sunday through the summer. If you ever decided to come back for anything...”
He nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good Fourth.”
“You too, Officer.”
After one more lingering look, she finally turned to help another customer, this one with her wallet out, asking about tea roses. And he and his uniform were forgotten, swallowed up by everyday life, and the hustle of trying to make a buck.
“Ben!”
He glanced over at someone waving through the smoke coming from the barbecue tent. He didn’t know what they had on the grill, but it smelled amazing.
He waved back, unable to tell who it was. There were too many people in line for barbecue, and they were standing right behind a guy in a cowboy hat.
He turned to go.
“Wait!”
Again, he looked over. And this time recognized Kyla making her way through the crowd. She was with another woman, curvy, long dark hair, but he only had eyes for Kyla, who, for the first time in two weeks, looked like she might be happy to see him.
She smiled as they approached, and the effect that had on him was immediate. The attraction to her, the overwhelming desire to touch her again, was all-consuming. And he had to school his features to make sure he didn’t make an ass out of himself right there in public.
“I was worried you weren’t going to stop,” she said. “You looked like you were in another world.”
He swallowed, his tongue feeling thick and dry in his mouth. Of course he couldn’t tell her that he’d been thinking about his future, about how to move on from Sam once and for all. And that it all circled back to Kyla in the end.
He couldn’t say that, so he just turned to the woman she was with, and held out his hand for something productive to do.
“Ben Martinez,” he said.
She smiled wide. “Stella Clarke. I used to live here, but you probably don’t remember me. I was younger than you.”
“You’re...”
“Kyla’s foster sister. Frances raised me, too.”
A slow realization crept over him. He’d heard all about Stella and Marley from Frances, but he’d never met them before. He knew the three girls had grown up close, and were still close.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said.
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’ve heard a ton about you from Kyla here.”
Kyla shot her a look. So, she’d been talking about him. Interesting.
Watching her, he put his hands back in his pockets. She looked beautiful today, but she looked beautiful every day. Her dark hair was loose and wavy, and she wore a pair of faded denim overalls over a white tank top. She’d gotten some sun recently; he could tell. Freckles were scattered over her nose, and her shoulders were a little pink. She was lovely.
“How are you doing?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound strained.
She gazed back, and there was something in her expression that made his heart ache. She seemed vulnerable right then, with the people brushing past, and the live band starting to play across the grassy area—something country and vaguely sad.
“Hunter hasn’t been back,” she said.
He frowned. He wasn’t surprised, but he’d still been hoping it would work out somehow. That Hunter would want to come back to the shop, or be allowed to come back by his parents. But life didn’t always end up like you hoped. He knew that better than most. And so did Kyla.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. We did the best we could for him. You were right. You were right about a lot of things. It just took me a while to get there.”
He gazed at her steadily, unable to take his eyes off her. Realizing that she looked very different today. There was a distinctive peace that had settled over her features since he’d seen her last.
“And honestly?” she said. “I’ve been missing you.”
He didn’t trust himself to speak right then, so he stayed quiet. People kept walking past, but he barely noticed.
“I’m not sure what to do with that,” she continued quietly, “because I’ve decided you and I are the worst idea ever.”
But she said it with a tilt to her lips, a certain warmth in her eyes that was hard to ignore.
“Oh, yeah?” he said.
“And, you know. I’m moving away from here. So I won’t have to see you.”
“And when will that be?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I’m sick of seeing you, too.”
Smiling, she looked down at that.
“Uh, I hate to interrupt this charming exchange with the overtly sexual undertones,” Stella said with a smirk, “but Frances is waiting for her barbecue.”
Kyla’s cheeks colored. There was no mistaking it. They flushed a lovely pink, making those new freckles almost disappear.
“Are you going to be around after the holiday?” she asked him. “I have some gummy worms set aside for Gracie that I’ve been meaning to drop by the station.”
“I’ll be there,” he said.
“It was nice to meet you, Ben,” Stella said.
“You, too.”
She tugged on Kyla’s arm. “Come on, lover girl.”
This time Kyla laughed, and let herself be led away.
But not before turning to look at him one more time.
“That’ll be eight fifty,” Kyla said, bagging up some caramels for the lady in a Christmas Bay sweatshirt that still had the tag attached. It was poking out the back of the neckhole—a cheerful announcement that this was most definitely a tourist.
“This place is so cute,” the woman said, handing over a ten.
Kyla didn’t know if she was talking about the town or the shop, but it didn’t really matter. It all went hand in hand.
“I told my husband I want to retire here,” she continued.
“Oh? Where are you from?”
“Arizona. Phoenix.”
“But it’s so nice there. So much sun.”
“It is nice, but there are a lot of people. I’m sick of people.”
Kyla laughed, handing back her change. “I hear that.”
“And this little town...” The woman paused, shaking her head. The tag bobbed behind her ear. “There’s something about it. It has a pull to it, you know? Something different.”
Kyla did know. She knew very well. That pull, that something different, was what had brought her back after all these years. It was keeping her here now. Of course, Frances had been the main reason at first. But now there were more reasons popping up like flowers in a garden. Ben was one, her first love. Who’d later become her greatest adversary, and then, inexplicably, her love again. Gracie was another—the adorable little girl who had shown Kyla that just because you’d been hurt before, didn’t mean you couldn’t love again. It didn’t mean you couldn’t trust again. You just had to open your heart to do it.
So, yes. She understood that pull.
“You live here?” the woman asked, tucking a few dollars into the tip jar.
A simple question, but one that made Kyla’s heart skip a beat just the same. Did she live here? When she’d come back at the beginning of the summer, the answer to that would’ve been a hard no. Now she wasn’t so sure. Because the thought of it made her heart do things like skip a beat. That wasn’t something she could ignore any longer. It just wasn’t.
“I used to,” she said quietly. “I might again. This is where my family is.”
“Oh, then you definitely should. Family is everything.”
Kyla nodded. It absolutely was.
“Well, I sure enjoyed your little shop. I’ll try and come back before we leave on Friday.”
“I hope you do. And if you retire here, don’t be a stranger.”
The woman smiled. “I won’t.”
Kyla watched her walk out the door, feeling happier than she had in weeks. She knew Stella’s visit had something to do with that. They’d talked with Frances, and at least had a short-term plan laid out.
But there was something else responsible for it, too. She was in love with Ben. She now knew that was a fact. An inexplicable fact? Maybe. But she was starting to wonder if it was more like destiny. Like she’d been meant to come back here to fall in love with him. It was a romantic thought that was beginning to nestle its way inside her heart.
The bell above the door tinkled, and she looked up, tugged away from her thoughts.
And there, standing with his hands in his jean pockets, and looking somehow much older, was Hunter.
Her stomach dropped. Hunter. She’d been waiting for him to come back this whole time. To swear at her, to blame her for what she’d done. To twist her emotions into a complicated mess that she knew she might never untangle completely. She’d been waiting for him, and had started to think he’d probably never come.
Yet, here he was. Wearing a shy smile. Not looking at all like he blamed her for anything.
Her chest warmed.
“You’re back,” she said. It was all she could manage. She was afraid she was going to start crying, and that would just be embarrassing for them both.
He nodded. He’d gotten a haircut. She could see his bright blue eyes clearly now, how they twinkled in the morning light.
“I wanted to say goodbye,” he said.
“Goodbye?”
She walked out from behind the counter. It wasn’t just her imagination. He did look older. More mature, but lighter in a way. It suited him.
“My mom and I are moving,” he said. “My aunt lives in Eugene, and has a job lined up for her. She and my uncle have been trying to get us to come for a long time. They’re pretty happy about it.”
“And are you happy about it?” she asked.
“I can finally have a dog. And my mom is excited about her job. I’ve never really seen her like this before. It’s nice.”
She watched him steadily.
“She decided to leave my dad,” he said. “After...well. You know.”
Taking a step toward him, she clasped her hands in front of her belly. “Hunter, I’m so sorry.”
“They never said it was you and Frances, but I knew. I mean, you were the only people I’ve talked to about my dad.”
Her eyes stung with tears and she blinked them back. This scene was so familiar, that all of a sudden, she found herself tumbling back, back. To where she could see her mother now—curled in a ball on the couch, so out of it that Kyla thought she was about to die. And then she did die.
Kyla used to blame Ben for that. And then herself. And her mother, too. But now, as she looked at Hunter, and saw how clearly his luck was about to change, she knew she was done with blame. She only wanted to forgive.
“We just wanted to keep you safe,” she said. “I know how hard it is when you love someone, but they’re hurting you. Sometimes it doesn’t have to be physical. Sometimes there are other types of pain that are just as hard to take. And I’m just so sorry you had to go through that.”
Hunter looked down at his sneakers. One of the laces was untied, and dragged the floor like a worm. Like a gummy worm...
If she never saw him again, she knew she’d always remember him like this. Somewhere between a boy and a man. About to embark on a new life. Hopefully a better life. Not unlike the one she’d found once, with her foster family in the big house on the cape.
“Thank you for caring enough to do something,” Hunter said. “It feels good. To have friends like this.”
“We’ll always be your friends. We’ll always be right here if you need us.”
The bell tinkled above the door, and a group of chattering kids walked in.
“Well,” Hunter said. “I’d better get going.”
“Wait.” Kyla picked up the tip jar and handed it over. It was full this morning. Frances had forgotten to empty it again last night.
A slow smile spread across his face. “But why?”
“For a housewarming present,” she said. “And because you deserve it.”
He looked at her for a few seconds, then stepped forward to give her a quick hug. It was awkward, sweet, heartbreaking and wonderful.
“My mom doesn’t like to say goodbye,” he said, pulling away again. “She says, see you later.”
“Well, then. See you later, kid.”
He grinned. “Later.”
And then he was gone. Tip jar and all.
Ben sat at his desk, the sun slanting golden and warm through the blinds. The day was finally winding down, and he was glad. It had been a long week, and he was looking forward to going home to a cold beer and a baseball game on TV.
Closing the file he’d been reading through, he leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Gracie was at Isabel’s tonight, so he was on his own. He guessed most parents in his position might be happy for the break. But he missed that little munchkin when she was gone.
“Chief?”
He looked up to see his receptionist in the doorway.
“Getting ready to close up, Ellen?”
“I just have one more report to enter, then I’m done. But there’s someone up front to see you.” She frowned. “She says she has a worm delivery?”
He laughed. “You can send her back.”
After a few seconds, Kyla appeared in his doorway holding the distinctive white bag that always made Gracie lose her damn mind.
Her gray gaze settled on him, warming his very bones.
“I’m glad I caught you,” she said. “I had to run to get here before five.”
“With gummy worms.”
She shook the bag. “We have to keep our fans happy, you know.”
“They’re a nice bonus, but she’d be a fan of yours, with or without the worms.”
“Now, that’s not a sentence you hear every day.”
“Please,” he said, motioning toward the chair opposite his desk. “Sit.”
“I’m not holding you up?”
“No. I’m glad to see you.”
She pulled out the chair and sank into it with a smile. “You said you were tired of seeing me the other day.”
“I say a lot of things. Mostly to throw you off.”
“Oh yeah?”
He studied her, feeling some of the hesitation from the last month start to ease away. Feeling himself relax into this new feeling, and not wanting to question it. What he wanted more than anything was to trust it, and to let it carry him where it was going naturally.
And where would that be? There was only one way to find out.
He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head. “What would you say if I asked you out?”
She stared at him. “Asked me out...”
“On a date. Not a playdate. A date, date.”
One corner of her mouth tilted, and he imagined kissing it, and then moving his way down the graceful column of her neck.
“What about all the reasons not to?” she asked.
“What about them?”
“You said it wasn’t a good idea.”
“I say a lot of things, remember? I changed my mind.”
She put the bag on the desk and pushed it toward him. A peace offering, maybe? He could do a lot worse.
“I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few weeks,” she said quietly. “About everything.”
He’d been thinking, too. The question was, had they come to the same place? Could they meet somewhere in the middle like two people who were learning to live again? It was hard not to hold his breath for the answer.
He regarded her, that gaze of hers so familiar that it broke his heart. All of a sudden, he saw her as a little girl again—in baggy jeans and smudged glasses. And he wanted to pull her close, and tell her it was all going to be okay. That he would keep her safe. Safe in his arms for as long as she’d allow it.
“Hunter came into the shop today,” she said. “He came to say goodbye.”
He leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. It was so quiet, he could hear the clock ticking in the hallway.
“Goodbye,” he said. “Where’s he going?”
“He and his mom and are moving to Eugene to be with his aunt and uncle. She’s got a job lined up there.”
He nodded. So, she was leaving the asshole. Good for her. And she had a support system, which meant it might actually take. God, he hoped so. He hoped they’d leave here and find exactly what they were looking for.
“He seemed happy,” Kyla said. “And it all started to come full circle for me. His situation, my childhood. You gave me the chance at a future that Hunter is getting now. You did that for me.”
His throat tightened. “I didn’t do that for you, Kyla. You did that for yourself.”
Silence settled between them. There was the faint jingle of Ellen’s keys as she locked up for the day. Outside, the sun sank lower, its color turning a deeper, more meaningful hue. His office was bathed in gold.
“I’m sorry I’ve been blaming you,” Kyla said. “I needed someone other than my mom to blame, because admitting that she failed me felt like admitting she didn’t love me. I know she loved me. But she was sick. She made mistakes. And she paid for them.”
Kyla had grown into such a strong woman; he doubted she even knew how strong. But there would always be a softness there, deep down. A tenderness that made her special.
“I forgive her,” she said, her voice trembling a little. “I’m choosing to forgive her.”
Without a word, he pushed away from his desk and came around to where she was sitting. He held out his hand, and she took it.
He helped her to her feet and she stood there looking up at him with that tenderness in her eyes. He knew it was for him. It was also for her mother, and Frances, and Hunter. And everyone else who’d come into her life and changed it in one way or another.
He brushed his fingertips underneath her chin. “What do you say to that date?” he asked. “We can have some coffee. Maybe get to know each other again.”
“Actually,” she said, “that sounds perfect.”