Logan stuffed the leftover lingonberry muffins into a large Tupperware, keeping an eye on Abby as she zigzagged around the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast. She’d insisted on serving Piper and Tyler herself, no matter how many times he’d bemoaned the idea. She shouldn’t have to serve the woman claiming to be her husband’s one-night stand. But Abby wouldn’t relent and shooed him out of the house to do the week’s grocery shopping.
Somehow, Abby seemed to be holding it together, despite the rickety roller coaster Piper had strapped them all into the moment she arrived. Thankfully, she’d retreated back to her room after breakfast, with Tyler in tow. No more bombs dropped today. Not that she could get any more nuclear than claiming Donnie had a secret love child. I mean, seriously? Donnie cheating on Abby? You couldn’t get more implausible. Not to mention the blatant impossibility thanks to the whole shooting-blanks situation.
A fresh surge of anger ripped through him, and his muscles involuntarily tensed.
“Easy, Hulk.” Abby’s teasing tone broke through his thoughts. “People actually like to eat those.”
He looked down, realizing he’d smashed one of the muffins in his tightly wound fist. “Shoot. Sorry, Abs. What a mess.” He grabbed a dish towel and swept the crumbs into a pile.
“It’s fine. I can use the muffins in a blueberry crumble later. But if you need a stress ball, may I suggest one of these instead?” She offered him a Meyer lemon. “I plan to make some lemonade later this afternoon, and you can save me some time.”
Abby flashed a genuine smile for the first time that morning. Her entire face brightened like the sun rising above the clouds, and Logan couldn’t help himself. He tossed the dish towel on the counter and pulled her into his arms, sealing her lips with his as if a single kiss could rewind time. As if they could return to the moment before Piper arrived. To the moment when he’d planned to ask Abby to marry him.
Piper hadn’t just wiped her muddy boots on the past. She’d stomped all over their future, too. At least Abby didn’t know about that part yet.
When he finally let Abby come up for air, she gasped, her hazel eyes shining. “What was that for?”
“Because you’re amazing. Because, in the midst of this craziness, you can still smile. And you know your smile gets me every time.”
She laughed softly, resting snug in his arms. “Well, it helps that you’re so indignant on my behalf. It’s like you’re carrying the burden of outrage for me, so I don’t have to.”
“Happy to be of service. But seriously, how are you doing? It can’t be easy having her here.” He’d reminded Abby a dozen times that she didn’t have to let Piper stay at the inn, but she hadn’t changed her mind.
“I’m fine.” She averted her gaze, a sure sign she wasn’t being entirely truthful. To top it off, she wriggled away, resuming her after-breakfast cleanup.
He watched her dump the dirty casserole dish into the sink of soapy water, and his heart wrenched. He hated to see her hurting. Especially here, in her happy place.
He’d lived in this house for years, maintaining the massive historic mansion and sprawling acre of land, but it had never felt like a home before. The sunny, spacious kitchen had merely been a place to prepare his meals. And not even good ones. Although, he had learned to be creative with a can of tuna, if he did say so himself.
Since Abby moved in—and he’d relocated to the bungalow in the backyard—the house hadn’t just become a warm and inviting home. She’d made it special. And not only for him and Max. For everyone. People came to Blessings on State Street to relax and unwind. To enjoy themselves. Or, as the inn’s new tagline described it—thanks to Nadia’s genius marketing skills—it was a place where luxury and leisure met hometown hospitality.
Then Piper mucked it all up by dragging her lies and drama through the front door. Now, tension stretched through the walls, putting everyone on edge.
“I know what fine stands for,” Logan told her. “Fine means feelings inside not expressed.” He’d heard the cheesy acronym on a self-help podcast pumped into the waiting room at his doctor’s office. Funny how his brain remembered that little ditty, but not his email password.
Abby wailed on the baking dish, flinging soap suds into the air as she scrubbed. “I can’t let Piper know she got to me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want her to think she can intimidate me with her lies. I don’t want her to think for one second that I believe her.” Abby continued to scour with so much fervor, water sloshed onto the counter and soaked the front of her apron.
“And you don’t, right?” Logan joined her at the sink, putting himself in the splash zone. “You don’t believe her, do you?”
“Of course not.” The deep farmhouse sink resembled a wave pool, and Logan placed a hand on her arm, calming the motion.
“Abs,” he murmured, gently removing the sponge from her death grip. “It’s okay to not be okay. Even if you know she’s lying.”
She looked up and met his gaze, tears welling in her eyes. “But what if she isn’t? There’s a slim chance she could be telling the truth.” Her pained, whispered words punched him in the stomach. He’d give anything to erase her doubt.
“She’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if Donnie loved you even half as much as I do, the thought of being with another woman would make his skin crawl.” He shivered to drive home his point. “See? Just talking about it is giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Okay, you made your point.” She cracked a small smile and added, “Thanks.”
Logan grinned, happy she looked reassured. “Besides, even if we ignore reality for a second and pretend that Donnie really is Tyler’s father, Piper wouldn’t have waited this long to show up. She would’ve asked Donnie for child support years ago.”
“That’s true. There is something off about her. Like she’s hiding something.”
“Yeah. She is hiding something—the truth. Seriously, Abs. There are so many holes in her story, it looks like target practice.” The pep talk seemed to be working, so he stopped while he was ahead. No reason to mention the tiny, niggling questions still bothering him. Like, what exactly was the connection between Piper and Donnie? She knew too much to be a complete stranger. And why had Donnie kept the house a secret from Abby for all those years? Something didn’t add up.
“You’re right. Thank you. I feel much better.” She glanced at the antique clock on the wall. “If you don’t leave soon, you’ll miss the bus.”
“I thought I’d stick around here today. Stress-squeeze some lemons. Maybe squish a few more muffins.”
“Nope.” Abby shook her head. “As much as I appreciate your superior grip strength, you’re not missing your doctor’s appointment on my account. Not when they’ve been going so well.”
“But that’s exactly why I can afford to miss one. Doc gave me a gold star at my last appointment. He says I’m making good progress.” Logan hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up too high, but after months of working with a specialist to reduce his sporadic muscle spasms—a fun little present from the spinal injury that got him kicked out of the Air Force—he’d finally seen improvement.
“You’re proving my point. You shouldn’t interrupt your progress.” Abby’s tone said, Don’t even try to argue with me, mister. “Besides, I have it all under control. I spoke to a DNA testing laboratory this morning. They’re sending a swab kit for Tyler. And once the Air Force releases Donnie’s DNA records, they can have the results in forty-eight hours. With any luck, this whole ordeal will be over in a few days.”
In awe, he leaned against the counter, forgetting about the deluge of dishwater. It dampened the back of his T-shirt, but he didn’t care. “You’re incredible. You know that, right?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“And I’m going to keep telling you.” He almost added for the rest of our lives but held off. He’d get a proposal do-over someday, but not today. Soon, he hoped. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait. There were times he literally ached to marry her, to finally merge every aspect of their lives—of themselves—together. His scrawny one-bedroom bungalow had started to feel a little too lonely these days.
After another kiss goodbye, he headed outside to catch the bus at the end of Main Street. Not his favorite mode of transportation, but until he got the muscle spasms under control, he refused to drive and put others at risk. He’d use the downtime to Google Piper Sloane on his phone. Maybe he’d get lucky and find something useful.
As he crossed the front lawn, he spotted Verna Hoffstetter emerging from her light-purple Queen Anne Victorian across the street. The color reminded him of grape-flavored saltwater taffy. Mr. Bingley—affectionately dubbed Bing—waddled a few steps behind. The chubby English bulldog could stand to lose a few pounds, not that he’d tell Verna. If she put him on a diet, Bing would never forgive him.
“Hey, Verna.” He stopped at the curb to greet her, briefly stooping to scratch Bing behind the ears.
“How’s our girl?” Verna asked in lieu of hello.
“Tough as titanium,” he told her. “And a far better person than I am. She’s treating Piper as if she’s any other guest. I would’ve given her a first-class ticket to Get Outta Town.”
Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t have been quite that heartless. Sure, he had zero respect for Piper, but she had a five-year-old son. Tyler didn’t ask for this. He seemed like a sweet kid. His mom might be an opportunist charlatan, but Tyler wasn’t. In some ways, he was a victim, too. What kind of mother involved her own son in such an underhanded scheme? He’d keep an eye on them. If he suspected the kid was in any harm, he wouldn’t hesitate to intervene.
“Our Abby is kindhearted,” Verna cut into his thoughts. “But she’s no pushover. There’s a reason she let that woman stay.”
“You’re probably right. I jumped straight into fix-it mode without really considering Abby’s motivation,” he admitted. But his wife-to-be wasn’t a damsel in distress. She was a fighter. And often, a whole lot smarter than him.
“Whatever her plan is,” Verna said, “we’ll be with her every step of the way.” Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. “I called the Belles. We suddenly needed to reschedule our weekly book club meeting to today, and we thought Piper might like to join us.”
Logan grinned at the visual of Piper being grilled by five feisty octogenarians. “I’ll look forward to the debriefing.”
“We’ll happily share our intel. There’s something off about that woman. Like she’s hiding more than a secret affair.”
“I think you’re right, Verna. And apparently, so does Bing.”
The pudgy-faced pup sniffed the back tire of Piper’s black four-door Jeep parked along the curb.
“What is it, bud? What d’ya smell?” Logan stepped closer and peered into the faintly tinted windows. The entire back seat disappeared beneath Tyler’s car seat, bulging duffel bags, dirty clothes, blankets, toys, stuffed animals, boxes of snack food, and two cases of bottled water. His heart lurched. Were they living in their car?
“That’s odd,” Verna said, snooping over his shoulder.
“You’re telling me. Either they’re fleeing a crime or preparing for the apocalypse,” he teased, but the joke fell flat. His stomach turned with worry for Tyler. They could be witnessing the aftermath of a long road trip, he supposed. But Piper said they’d traveled seven hours. Was this level of chaos a reasonable result?
“Do you think this woman and her son are in some kind of trouble?” Verna asked, her hushed tone mirroring his concern.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I intend to find out.”