Chapter Three

“I keep asking myself, is it something I did? Is it my fault Nina is like this? I don’t have the answer, but I do know one thing. I’m done with dating.” Blue Moon

Laney was hot, bothered, and sorely tempted to kick something.

Not even the warm spring weather could improve her mood. She glared at the fifteen metal pieces lying on the grassed area behind her courtyard. When they were all connected, they formed a tall frame used to hang up flowers so she could paint them.

Pete, the retired plumber who always helped with her installations, usually took it out of the garage and assembled it, but he’d come down with a virus.

Violet let out an encouraging bark.

“Thanks,” she murmured and tried flipping one of the pieces over to see if it would fit into the corresponding bar. It didn’t. “You’re right. We should keep on trying.”

She didn’t have a choice. She had three hundred dahlias to paint gold for an order and a client meeting in an hour.

“Talking to yourself?” a low voice rumbled from behind her.

The muscles in her neck tightened in direct contrast to the flutter in her belly. He shouldn’t be here. And I most definitely shouldn’t be reacting to it.

She’d spoken to Jessica an hour ago. He’d checked out. Left. He should be stepping onto a plane, leaving her free to walk around St. Clair. Paint flowers. To not worry about Adam Fitzpatrick ever again.

“Ruff.” Violet tensed in annoyance, obviously agreeing about his unwanted presence.

“What are you doing here?” She dragged one of the metal bars into a new position, refusing to turn around.

“I wanted to talk,” he said as Violet gave another sharp bark. Then he let out a soft sigh, maybe noticing her tensed shoulders and stiff back. “It’s important.”

Finally, she looked around at him. Mistake. He was leaning against her back fence, wearing a T-shirt and jeans that only made his damn eyes even bluer. His stubble-covered jaw was cocked into the start of a smile.

She ignored her hammering pulse. It was just a Pavlovian reaction based on muscle memory. That was all.

“I thought I made my feelings perfectly clear.” She turned back to the metal bar and tried dragging it to line up at a right angle. If she could figure out how the frame went together, then surely the rest would fall into place.

“You did.” He picked up the other end of the bar and helped her carry it over. She dropped her end, and he did the same. “But this can’t wait.”

Dirt and oil covered her fingers, and she used the back of her hand to wipe her brow. Her sundress had pollen stains down the front and gold flecks of paint from the last time she’d done this. She was a mess.

Irrelevant.

“Not to me it isn’t.” She picked up another bar as Violet let out a low moan. Her dog narrowed her huge eyes and then turned away from Adam, as if not able to bear looking at him for a single second longer.

Could I love her any more?

He grasped the other end and helped her carry it over. “Please, Laney.” His voice a low caress that sent a flicker of something running up her skin. No one had ever said her name quite like he did. Her itch let out a dreamy sigh.

She ruthlessly vetoed it.

He betrayed me on a global scale.

She kept her eyes firmly on the ground and dropped the bar down next to the first one. It matched up, and she reached for a bolt and thrust it through the two holes. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck, and her hands shook. The unwanted emotions clashed violently with the raw pain of his betrayal.

With how he’d so carelessly taken their private relationship and twisted it into something unrecognizable. How she’d spent years hiding the truth about what he’d done. Even from Simon. Worried it would change the way he saw her. Worried it would destroy the life she’d built for herself.

“Go away, Adam.” Her fingers tightened around the cool metal.

“Please, just hear me out,” he said before his eyes swept across the metal bars. His mouth twisted into a frown. “What the hell is this?”

“I use it to hang flowers and branches. Makes it easier to paint them.”

If I can ever get the dumb thing together.

“Ah.” He studied it, then nodded. “I see now. It looks complicated. I could help you.” He knelt down next to her. His broad shoulders strained against his T-shirt. Heat bounced off his body as he studied the holes drilled into the steel. Laney swallowed.

Veto. Veto. Veto.

But it didn’t work. Being near him was like picking up a candy bar she’d once liked but hadn’t eaten in quite some time. Worst analogy ever. Violet decided to turn around at that moment and nudge her leg.

Saved by the wet nose.

She scrambled to her feet, stepping away from him. A smile tugged at his mouth, as if he knew what she’d been thinking. Irritation drummed in her chest. If he thought that being sexy and smug was going to work on her, he had another think coming.

She snatched up a bar.

Without speaking, he took it and lined it up with the one she’d already connected. His brow pushed together in concentration, and he reached for the bag of bolts and put one through the lined-up holes.

He repeated it with a third piece, still not speaking.

Muscles rippled in his arms as he worked. She looked away. Unfortunately, a couple of passersby had recognized him and had come to a halt, watching them. An audience. Familiar panic sliced through her like a knife. What if, after all this time, someone guessed the truth? She loved everyone in her adopted town, and as far as she could tell, they loved her back. But if they found out she was Nina, would they look at her differently?

Adam, oblivious to his fan club, straightened up the rack and stepped back.

“There. All done.”

She let out an annoyed sigh, hating to be in his debt. “I appreciate the help, but I don’t have time to talk.” Especially in front of a growing audience. “I’ve got flowers to paint and a meeting to prepare for. And what about your flight?”

“I’ve delayed it. Like I said, this is important.” His eyes held hers. “What time does your meeting finish? I can wait.”

Irritation jabbed at her. Why was he doing this? Hadn’t she made her feelings obvious when she’d climbed a tree to avoid him? She stiffened. Grown women didn’t do that. Or hide out in their store for an entire day.

And he’d delayed his flight? A sinking sensation settled in her gut. Avoiding him would only drag it out longer. Fine. But if they were going to clear the air, it would be on her terms.

And once it was done, she could go back to her regular life.

“Okay. But not here. Not now. I’ll be finished by six.”

“Really?” Surprise flickered in his eyes, as if he’d been expecting her to put up more of a fight.

“On one condition. You can say what you have to, but I’m not promising to return the favor. For me, the door’s shut. It’s not something I want to open again.”

“Got it,” he said. “What about the bar on the main street? It looked okay.”

Yes. And filled to the brim with people she knew. She considered her apartment but quickly dismissed it. No way did she want Adam Fitzpatrick intruding on her life. It needed to be public. But not too public.

“There’s a place ten miles out of town called the Trap. It has a red lobster above it. I’ll see you there.”

He opened his mouth as if to challenge it but then nodded. “Until six.”

This was a mistake. A big, big mistake. She smoothed down her dress. She’d bought it because of the floral pattern, but the iris petals were too big, and the way they opened wasn’t botanically correct. Everyone always commented on it. But she’d never been able to forget it wasn’t an accurate representation.

And why had she never noticed how tight it was around her waist?

She sucked in her stomach, then immediately let it out again.

So not playing that game.

The lights around the giant red lobster sitting on the roof were bright against the early evening sky as she walked across the parking lot. The place had been built ten years ago, and most locals avoided it because of the overinflated prices and the bad management.

Just one drink.

She stepped inside and peered around.

He was in a window booth, wearing a white linen shirt. His face softened at the sight of her, as if surprised she’d turned up. That made two of them.

I can do hard things.

“Hey,” he said as she slid onto the seat opposite him, the red Formica table acting as a barrier. There were two beers. “I wasn’t sure if that’s what you still drank. I can get you something else.”

She faltered, torn between not wanting him to think he knew her and the idea of calming down her erratic pulse. She took the beer.

“This is fine.” Her fingers tightened around the cool glass as she studied him.

His dark hair was pushed off his face, leaving his brow exposed. His eyes were a thousand shades of blue, like the hydrangeas growing behind Jessica’s inn. A smile hovered around his mouth, and the faint scent of cedarwood tickled her nose, along with mint. Like the earth.

“Thanks for coming.” He gave her a high-voltage smile that sent electricity flickering through her belly. Had it always had that effect on her?

Um, that would be yes.

This was already getting out of hand. Some men thickened out as they hit their forties. Hair grew in the wrong places, and their faces changed. But Adam had become more attractive. All bronzed, hard edges and sizzling smiles.

She gulped her beer, self-conscious of the tight dress pressing against her ribs.

Wear it, she’d thought earlier. You hate this dress. It will be a reminder you hate him, too.

Except now, as her skin heated under the soft fabric, it was a painful reminder that what they once shared hadn’t quite gone away. India might have been onto something about a fling. As soon as he left town, she’d consider it.

Preventive maintenance against lusting after inappropriate men.

Man. Singular.

“What do you want, Adam? Is it about the book?”

“It’s part of it. I tried to call you.” The smile faded, and he ran a hand through his hair. He looked tired. Not that she cared. “But it was like you’d fallen off the map.”

“Welcome to off-the-map.” She spread out her arms. “St. Clair. We’re a bit of a hidden secret. I’m surprised it’s not filled with Mafia on the lam.”

“The Godfather. We watched that movie together.”

“We also watched The Lion King. You cried,” she said in a cool voice. “And I thought we agreed not to go there.”

“You were the one who didn’t want to go there.” He just shrugged and fixed her with a curious glance.

“Adam.” Her fingers tightened around the beer bottle.

“Sorry.” He held his hands up. “I retract that statement. Point is, I did try and tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Ten years of humiliation lodged in her throat as the memories came flooding back. She’d been in a bookstore—ironically, picking a gift for Simon, to celebrate their first wedding anniversary—when she’d seen Blue Moon sitting on a display table. At first, she’d assumed that it had been written by another Adam Fitzpatrick. It had to be. But when she’d flicked to the back cover, his face had stared out at her.

It was a blur after that. She’d hidden in the corner of the store and scanned the book for an hour, her past coming to life like a twisted nightmare as she read passage after passage. Somehow, she’d driven back to the cottage she and Simon lived in, but the evening had been ruined, and she’d gone to bed, saying she had a migraine.

By the following morning, she’d composed herself, convinced it would blow over. But the opposite happened. And the more successful it became, the more impossible it had been to admit the truth. Which meant not only had Adam betrayed her, but he’d forced her to be complicit in a horrible web of secrets.

“I wrote the book when I was mad as all hell. And hurt.” He bowed his head and studied the label on his bottle, his fingers tracing the beaded drops of moisture. “I never expected it would get published. I wasn’t writing it for anyone but me. So…I didn’t bother to filter. Then, when I got the publishing deal, all the parts I wanted to take out were what my editor loved best.”

“You turned me into a laughingstock.” Her temples pounded.

“It was fiction. You get that, right?”

“Except it wasn’t all fiction, and if people ever found out, how would they know what parts were real and what was your imagination?” she hissed, keeping her voice low. Trying not to throw a bottle at him. She collected herself. “The only thing you didn’t accuse me of doing was boiling a child’s fluffy pet. You said I went to Boston, chasing after you. Stalking you. Making your life hell because I couldn’t live without you. Which is the opposite of what happened. I didn’t call you once.”

“I’m achingly aware of that.” His eyes darkened like a summer storm looming on the horizon.

Like he was angry. Hurt.

“Wait… You wanted me to chase you?” She was momentarily thrown.

She’d been twenty-one when they’d broken up. Living in San Francisco, fresh out of college and working her first job. They’d only been dating a year when he started doing graveyard shifts at the newspaper. It had been chaotic but fun, until he announced he had a new job, with better hours, better money, better opportunities.

In Boston.

And so he’d left her, promising they’d figure out a way, but Laney had known it was over.

I wasn’t enough for him to stay.

She’d been ten when her mom’s cancer diagnosis had come and eleven when her dad had walked out. Laney had begged him not to. Raced after him, clutching at his hand, trying to drag him back into the house. But he’d shaken her off and kept walking, leaving her behind, heart ripped to shreds. She swallowed down the bile that always accompanied the memory. She’d known not to do it with Adam.

“Not quite as dramatically as Nina did. But hell, I wanted you to fight for us. To care. Even a little.”

Something hit her in the chest. Pain. Incredulity. Confusion.

He thought I didn’t care?

Could he not see that what she’d done was self-preservation?

“You left me, Adam. You took a job without even discussing it first. Then for a month I hardly heard from you, until one drunken phone call during which you suddenly asked me to move three thousand miles away. Because you were lonely.”

The worst of it was she hadn’t said no. She just needed time to think. To see if she could trust him not to leave Boston the way he’d left San Francisco. To see if it was worth the risk to say goodbye to her crappy apartment that rattled every time a freight train went by. Which was why she hadn’t answered straightaway.

And that’s what had done it.

The one-second pause she’d taken had been enough for him. He’d given her the ultimatum. Yes or no.

Black or white.

When she couldn’t answer, he’d dumped her. He’d left and broken her heart. There had been nothing more to say.

“Hell. You make it sound like it was a booty call. I missed you, Laney.”

“So why didn’t you give me time to decide?” she countered. He flinched and stretched his neck.

“I admit I overreacted, but I tried to fix it. I tried to call. You ghosted me.” His jaw clenched.

Had she?

Maybe he was right?

She shut her eyes, not sure what to do with it all. Had it all been a mistake? Alternative futures flashed through her mind, but she slammed them back down. None of it mattered. They had broken up, and she’d married Simon. She couldn’t regret one without the other.

“I’m sorry you think so,” she finally spoke.

“Thought,” he corrected, the hurt in his eyes disappearing like a switch had been pressed. “It’s in the past, but I’m sorry, too. Sorry it’s taken me so long to tell you that.” He gave her a half smile, and his blue eyes crinkled at the sides. There were a few more lines around them, but they were still so familiar.

The tension in her shoulders eased.

He was right. She’d buried a husband, and he’d become a famous author. They were both different. And despite his detour to St. Clair, they weren’t even in the same orbit any longer. The fire in her veins went out. Being angry seemed pointless.

“Apology accepted.” She took a sip of beer.

“I appreciate it. I am sorry I never got to warn you about the book.”

“And take away the panic of wondering if people would discover the truth about me? That my husband and friends might start to look at me like I was Nina?”

He tilted his head to acknowledge a hit, though his eyes were gleaming. “I kept waiting for you to go public on me. Tell your side of the story and make me look like the biggest A-hole in the world.”

“Self-preservation. Like I said, I hardly wanted the world to look at me like I was Nina,” she admitted.

“I get why you’re angry,” he said, his words taking the sting out of her emotions. It had been a long week, and the flood of adrenaline swamping her body was gone.

She pushed away her half-finished beer. “Did you get what you came for?”

“Not quite.” His eyes locked onto hers, bright against the low lighting of the restaurant. Her skin turned to gooseflesh, and her palms went damp, reminding her that being around Adam was dangerous.

He’d betrayed her once before; he could do it again.

“What do you mean?” She must have sounded alarmed, because he sat back and shook his head.

He licked his lips. “My intentions are honorable.”

Boo. Her itch bristled. Laney ignored it, trying to put out the heat in her cheeks. He leaned back against the booth and stared at the ceiling, as if searching for words. Or courage. Or both. An uneasy sensation squirmed in her stomach.

“I’m staying in St. Clair for two months. To finish my book.”

The background chatter faded away to nothing, and her ears buzzed. She examined the tiny white flecks on the tabletop. There was no pattern to them. Just random squiggles appearing here and there. No order. No symmetry.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I haven’t written more than a page in months,” he said, his face frozen. Like it had cost him to admit it. “Last night, something changed. I wrote.”

“Is this a joke?” Her mouth went dry, and panic flooded her veins. He wanted to write another book while living in her hometown? Her mind whirled. After Blue Moon, there had been two more books in the series. Dark Moon and Bitter Moon. They hadn’t done as well as the first, and neither of them featured Nina, but that didn’t mean anything. “You want to steal my life again?”

The color leached from his face, and his jaw tightened. “Hell. No, that’s not what I’m saying.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This isn’t about you, Laney. No Nina. No Elle. No Doctor Josh. I swear, it’s a new story, new characters.”

The room spun, and her heart hammered. “I don’t understand.”

“Paige offered me her apartment.”

Of course Paige had. That’s just how the universe worked. Laney had loved Simon, and he was dead. She hated Adam, and not only was he alive, but now he wanted to live next door? She must have let out a hysterical laugh, because his eyes widened. The color shifting from dull navy to a softer duck egg blue.

“How do you know it wasn’t a fluke? You might get here and nothing’s changed.”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” He pushed his beer away. “Something just feels different. Does that make sense?”

Unfortunately, yes.

There was something special about St. Clair.

She’d known it from the first time Simon had brought her to meet his twin sister and his folks. Up until then, he’d just been her quiet, gentle friend who helped her get over her heartbreak. But she’d fallen in love with him that day. And the town.

“It makes sense,” she finally said. She shouldn’t even be surprised at how far he was willing to go for his career. After all, he moved to Boston, so moving to a tiny Oregon town to finish a book was no different. He hasn’t changed.

“If you want me to stay out of your way, I can do that.”

Good. She gave him a sharp nod and shut her eyes.

It wasn’t ideal. Far from it, but they’d both moved on. What right did she have to say no?

After all, it was Paige’s life, too. The rent from the apartment helped pay the mortgage on the building. She licked her lips.

“Just to be clear. This is my home. After you go, I’ll still be living here. I’ve kept this secret for ten years, and it’s not something I want to change now. Do you understand?”

“I do. And Laney, I’m sorry about your husband. I heard what happened.”

Her brow throbbed at the mention of Simon. By Adam, of all people.

The two halves of her life. The good and the bad.

She abruptly got to her feet. “If we’re done, I need to go. I’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Sure.” He stood up and smiled as she smoothed down the too-tight sundress. Then she walked out of the restaurant as if everything was fine. As if she hadn’t momentarily lost her mind and allowed the man who almost ruined her life to move in next door to her for two months.