Chapter Five

“Guys, let’s stop talking about the one who got away and start appreciating the one who stayed.” Blue Moon

“Don’t look at my stomach. I’m huge.” Jessica walked out of the reception area of the Bluebell and over to the parking lot. Dark hair swept across her face, and her chocolate-colored eyes were filled with tiny lines of amber that brought out the honey in her Mediterranean skin. So like Simon it still took Laney’s breath away.

“You look amazing.” Her eyes misted over at the thought Simon would never get a chance to meet his little niece or nephew. To see his beloved sister finally achieve her dreams of being a mother.

Jessica and Brett had first started trying for a baby years before Simon’s cancer diagnosis. At forty, she’d finally accepted it wouldn’t happen. Then, two weeks after the anniversary of Simon’s death, she’d conceived.

The cycle of life.

“Did Brett tell you to say that because I’ve been complaining all morning? Everything hurts.” Jessica pulled a face, though her eyes still twinkled.

“Maybe you should let him pamper you more,” she said, getting her emotions under control.

“Don’t worry. As soon as this one’s born, I’ll be demanding the full treatment. It’s nice to finally see you.”

“Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” Laney said, burying her face in the trunk to avoid Jessica’s scrutiny. “I came back to a mountain of work.” And men to avoid.

Not that she’d been successful.

If failure to avoid Adam Fitzpatrick had a poster girl, I’d be it.

Her plan of clearing the air, then never seeing him again, had backfired in a spectacular fashion. Complete with a laser light show. If she’d told him he couldn’t stay, that would make her no better than the fictional Nina.

Which meant Adam was her new neighbor, and she kept seeing him everywhere she went. From helping Tilly to enthralling Kira Carmichael and her friends with his tales of being a writer to helping Sam fix a broken chair.

Every time–showing her that he wasn’t the selfish jerk she remembered.

It just wouldn’t do.

He didn’t even have the decency to wear a stained T-shirt or let his hair go greasy.

“How have you been?” Jessica asked as Laney passed her an armful of pale green olive leaves, the silvery underside soft like velvet.

“Busy, but I finally got an appointment with the bank. I’m going there next week.” She gathered up the rest of the flowers and shut the trunk with one hand.

“You’re still going ahead with it?” Jessica’s face fell an inch. Her sister-in-law had been worried Laney would become too reclusive. Too alone.

“I swear I won’t turn into an eccentric flower woman who never leaves her property. I’ll still have the store and will be around all the time to see my adorable niece or nephew. Unless you’re worried that I’ll become cool Aunt Laney, who lets them stay up late and eat junk food.”

“I might need to get in on that action myself. Staying up past eight o’clock and eating something that doesn’t involve olives sounds good right now.”

“Still on the olive kick?”

“Up to one jar a day. This baby is going to come out green.” She sighed, though her face was still glowing and dewy. Maybe Laney should eat more olives, too? Then again, she suspected the glow came more from being happy about the tiny human percolating in her womb.

They walked across the parking lot. The Bluebell Inn had been in the George family for the last three generations, and when Simon had moved away and become a dentist, it had been Jessica who’d taken it over. The three-story building was painted in a soft gray. White pillars flanked the low steps leading up to the door. There were also ten smaller cottages fanned out around the main building.

Through the grand old entrance was a long reception desk. Ever since Laney had moved to St. Clair almost ten years ago, she’d been making sure the huge Chinese vases were overflowing with local blooms. The hardy zinnias and delphiniums had held up well.

She came to a halt as her eyes slid farther up the wall. An old seascape usually hung there, but it had inexplicably been replaced with a framed blue sweatshirt with the words Nina Took It splashed across the front.

And was it signed?

“Jess, honey. What’s that?” she croaked, putting the flowers down on the counter.

“Isn’t it great?” Jessica rubbed her swelling belly. “Paige gave it to me. The publisher sent a couple of extra ones, and she thought it might help with publicity for the inn. Adam signed it when he checked out. I’m going to start a wall of fame.”

Adam’s fame, Laney’s shame.

“I see.” Heat stung her cheeks at the unfairness of it all. For so long, St. Clair had been her safe space in the world. The town had embraced her, first as Simon’s bride and then as his widow. She had a place here. Well, she had, until Adam had literally turned up on her doorstep. His very presence was a threat.

She picked up the vase and carried it through to the kitchen. Far away from the stupid sweatshirt. Jessica followed her.

“And speaking of Adam, why didn’t you tell me the big news? It’s all everyone’s talking about. I can’t believe you kept it to yourself.”

Her fingers tightened around the zinnia, snapping the stem as the blood thundered in her brow.

“N-news? About Adam Fitzpatrick?”

And me?

Her horror mingled with disappointment. So he had told someone. She couldn’t trust him. After all, he’d proved that over and over again. When he’d left her. When he’d written a book about her. And now he’d come into her adopted town and told everyone about their past. They’d no longer see sweet Laney George. They’d see Nina.

“He’s staying in town to finish his book. And he’s living next door to you. You must’ve seen him move in,” Jessica said, her gaze raking Laney’s as if seeing her internal panic.

“Oh…yes.” Laney took a shuddering breath and gave a vague wave of the dried flax flower in her hand. Tiny feather-like leaves fell from it, and she quickly put it down. “I doubt I’ll bump into him.”

“He seemed friendly. Not to mention good-looking.”

“Please tell me that’s your pregnancy hormones speaking?” Laney used mock outrage to hide her horror. “Besides, he’s not my type.”

Lie.

She might dislike him, but she couldn’t deny there was still a spark. She gritted her teeth and forced it down. Sparks made flames, and fire only destroyed things. Even glowing embers were dangerous. Besides, nothing had changed. He was still the guy who had left her.

Trust him once, shame on him. Trust him twice…

“Sorry. It’s a spark-free zone.” Her hand reached for the damask rose India had been admiring yesterday. Definitely not. Laney put it down in favor of the pale blush peonies.

Gentle. Simple. And no thorns.

Jessica studied her before shrugging. “Okay. I accept that. But there is something I wanted to ask.”

“You’re signing me up for babysitting duties? Violet and I gratefully accept,” Laney said, eager to move away from anything involving Adam Fitzpatrick.

“No. It’s about a date.”

She groaned. Out of the frying pan and into the proverbial fire. India wasn’t the only one who seemed intent on setting her up on blind dates.

“Please, no more.”

“No one knows what you’ve been through better than me. What we’ve both been through. But Simon would want you to be happy.”

She closed her eyes. It was in all the books, at all her groups. The best way to honor the dead was to continue living.

The theory was solid.

But the reality felt like trying to put a shoe onto a foot made of jelly.

It wasn’t something she could physically take hold of and apply. Nor could she tell anyone. Waves of bleak loneliness curled in her stomach with a familiar throb. She shut her eyes and forced herself not to go near it.

When she opened her eyes, Jessica was studying her, and a wave of guilt raced through her. Jess and Brett had walked the path with her every step of the way.

“I am.” She plastered a smile onto her mouth and pointed. “See, happy.”

“Looking like a scary toothpaste advertisement and being happy deep down in your soul are two very different things. I’m not asking you to fall in love. Just have a night that doesn’t involve painting your dog’s nails or buying dresses online.” Her sister-in-law’s dark eyes shone like mirrors, and shared pain and loss danced between them. She sucked in a ragged breath as Jessica squeezed her hand.

The darkness receded. It was like that sometimes. It would wash over her and then ebb away, leaving her unsteady in its wake. She lifted her head and settled her breathing.

Why was it still so hard?

“I think you’ll like Carl,” Jessica continued, as if sensing Laney wasn’t quite ready to speak. “He’s a third grade teacher at Clamshell Bay. Owns his own house. And loves dogs.”

“Woof,” Violet barked in approval. Laney sighed, caught between a pat-crazy dog and hormone-fueled pregnant sister-in-law. Not to mention that her unwanted reaction to Adam proved that she couldn’t keep ignoring her itch.

It needed scratching, and if he was staying in town, she had to make sure that her itch didn’t take control of her body again. She couldn’t afford to have a repeat of what happened at the Trap. Especially the part where she’d been fixated by his mouth.

She needed to distract it.

When did things get so complicated?

“Fine. I’ll go and even put lipstick on, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“Yay!” Jessica gasped. She quickly reached for Laney’s hand. “The baby kicked. Here, do you want to meet your new niece or nephew?”

More than anything. A wave of love hit her as she rested her fingers on Jessica’s bump. Somewhere under the skin, a tiny being pushed against her hand. Tears stung her eyes again.

Before Simon’s cancer diagnosis, they assumed they’d have plenty of time for children. Then his treatment had left him infertile. But that part of her life didn’t exist anymore. She only had her dog, her dreams to expand her business with a flower farm, and her precious sister-in-law. Still, compared to where she’d been, enough felt like a lot.

…

“So, what else do we know about Carl?” India demanded the following day. “Is he hot?”

“I didn’t ask.” Laney hung her work tools on the pegboard. It had been a busy day, and she’d only just finished the orders. She already regretted mentioning the blind date. Let alone agreeing to it. Her assistant was like a dog with a very juicy bone.

India opened her mouth, but before she could interrogate any further, a red delivery van pulled up and Drew Willis appeared. He had a tangle of blond curls that bobbed up and down as he climbed out of the driver’s seat.

“I got it. I got it. I got it.” India hurled herself through the door and all but threw herself at Drew. Her legs wrapped around his torso. He held her tight, his mouth finding hers.

Usually, Laney adored young love. Or old love. Or any kind of love.

But now it seemed to be reminding her of what she’d lost.

India ran her hands through Drew’s wild hair and deepened the kiss.

Laney turned away as frustration squeezed in on her.

I need to get out of here.

She could finish the bouquet tonight. She quickly scribbled the bubbly assistant a note and slipped out the back, Violet trotting at her heels as they headed toward the beach.

Walking on the sand always cleared her mind.

She rounded the corner and almost went crashing into the silver-haired figure of Olive Carmichael peering around the fence that overlooked Sam’s café courtyard.

“I’m so sorry,” Laney said as Olive put out a steadying hand to stop them both from toppling over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Olive said in a hushed voice as she nodded into the courtyard. Violet ignored it all and went darting off to her favorite tree. “Shhh. They’re just getting to the good bit.”

Good bit?

She peered over the fence. Adam was standing between two elderly women who both had their arms wrapped around him while a third woman held up her phone and snapped shot after shot. All three of them belonged to Olive’s book club and were notorious flirts.

“That’s great, Doctor Josh, but could you just undo one more button of your shirt? Remember the scene where Joshua and Elle were in Paris? They were so hot that they went swimming in the fountain?”

“Two buttons,” the second woman said firmly, her hand still clutched tightly around his waist. “I’m sure it was two buttons in the book.”

Laney’s eyes widened, and she turned back to a grinning Olive. “What’s going on?”

“Poor Adam. He only came in to grab coffee, but when Moira saw him she insisted he join us. I had to give Paige a hand with a delivery, and when I came back this was happening. They’re getting him to reenact their favorite scenes from Blue Moon. Though I think they might be getting carried away.”

Understatement. Then again, Laney couldn’t blame them.

The linen shirt did nothing to hide his muscled shoulders and arms, and the black shading of his stubble gave his jawline a dangerous edge. Her mouth went dry. She jabbed her nails into her palm.

“Why’s he letting them?”

“You should’ve heard some of the questions they were asking. This is probably less intrusive,” Olive said before grinning. “I’m about to go and stop it. I just wanted to see how polite Adam was. Turns out–very. Plus, I love the fountain scene. Remember when he got to his knees and kissed Elle’s stomach? So sexy.”

Laney took a deep breath. She’d never been to Paris with Adam or swum in a fountain. But they’d gone to a lake together, so she had seen the slick beads of water sliding down his perfect chest and abs. His arms wrapped around her, letting the water suspend them as they kissed. The press of his mouth on her own neck. His fingers hot against her skin.

She squeezed her eyes shut to shake away the image. It flickered and blurred before finally dissolving. When she opened them, Olive studied her with amusement.

“Everything okay?”

“Yup.” She quickly nodded. This was her own fault for leaving the store. “Totally fine.”

Olive patted her arm. “I’d better go and rescue the good doctor. Enjoy your walk.”

“Will do,” Laney said and waited until Olive disappeared back through the front of Sam’s café and reappeared in the courtyard. Whatever she said to the other women worked, and, several minutes later, Adam said goodbye and disappeared from sight.

Probably running for his life.

Maybe it would make him think twice before leaving his apartment again. And the more he stayed there, the less she’d have to worry about accidently bumping into him. She pressed her burning forehead against the fence.

“Hiding from me again, Laney?” A low drawl slid along her limbs as she slowly turned to face him.

“Of course not,” she said. Which was kind of true. She’d been spying. There was a difference. “I just bumped into Olive. We were having a chat before she went to rescue you from…I don’t even know what.”

“Makes two of us,” he said. “I didn’t realize the locals were so colorful here.”

“You could have said no. You don’t need to charm everyone in town.”

“Worried you might be next?” His dark eyes glittered. As if he knew what effect he’d been having on her. She pressed her nails into her palm.

“I think we both know the answer to that. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to go.”

“Sure,” he said, the hint of a smile still tugging at his mouth. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What am I forgetting?” she said, her frayed nerves turning to anger. “To give you a proper goodbye? Or a kiss on the cheek, or—”

“I meant your dog.” He nodded over to the tree where Violet was still playing. “Though if you want to kiss, far be it from me to stop you.”

Horror and humiliation choked her throat. Kissing? Why had she even mentioned it? But of course she knew. It was the damn memory of the lake. Clearly, it wasn’t safe to be near him. Pride jabbed at her, urging her to say something in her defense, but she bit down a retort.

She’d already dug herself a big enough hole. Without another word, she marched over to the tree and called for her dog.

When she turned around, Adam was gone.

Good. This was a reminder of why she had to avoid him at all costs.

…

Adam put the Cheetos in the basket next to the freshly ground coffee and a bag of walnuts. Breakfast of champions. Even if it was four in the afternoon. He wanted the Cheetos last night when he’d been stuck on a plot point but had quickly discovered that the entire town seemed to be asleep by ten.

A small price to pay.

Five days in, and the words were still flowing. He’d even dared to send his agent and editor several chapters. He grabbed a six-pack of beer, paid for his groceries, and stepped outside. Fresh afternoon air mingled with salt, and calmness hit him as he walked back to his apartment.

There was no sign of Laney.

He hadn’t spoken to her since yesterday when he’d caught her looking at him. He liked to think it was because she’d forgiven him, but the disgust on her face had been obvious.

I’m the last person she wants to be around.

It was a sharp contrast to how she was with everyone else. From the window of the apartment, he’d seen her coming and going from her store, always with armfuls of flowers, talking and laughing with the many people she seemed to know.

A jab of jealousy churned in his gut. He didn’t need the flowers, but he would like to have a conversation with her. One that didn’t end with her glaring at him like he was pond scum. They’d been friends once. And lovers—

He dragged his thoughts away from places they shouldn’t go.

Kira stood at the doorway, looking longingly at Cal, the excessively bad drummer, as he dragged away the menu board for Sam’s cafe.

“Hey, Mr. F.” She nodded to the front window of the store. “Do you like the new book display I made for you?”

He stopped and studied it. A large banana-shaped metal thing was hanging from overhead wires, and his books were stacked flat on it, following the curve of the frame. A crescent moon. It was kind of cool.

“I do. It’s the less-obvious route.”

“Yeah. The sweatshirt. I figured you’d probably seen it a million times,” she said, then frowned. “Of course, if my dad let me read the book, then I might’ve had some better ideas, but he thinks I should wait until I’m fifteen.”

Adam most definitely concurred.

“Stick with vampires and monster hunters for as long as you can. Real life is a lot less exciting.”

“Plus, my grandma said there’s loads of sex in it.” She grinned, and Adam felt very out of his depth. Kira’s attention fixed back on Cal, who was trying to coax a tune out of the metal on the front of the sign. He wasn’t succeeding,

“Isn’t he great?” She let out a happy sigh. Obviously, crushes made a person tone deaf. She gave Adam a vague wave of her hand. “By the way, someone called the store for you. Paige has the message.”

“Thanks.” He left Kira to enjoy the dissonant beats on her own.

The entrance to the upstairs apartment was at the back of the store. He passed Paige, who was deep in conversation with a customer, so he gave her a wave and kept going. Cheetos and beer called.

The message was probably about signing some more books. It could wait. He stepped around a couple of browsers and took the stairs two at a time. The apartment was the size of a postage stamp compared to his own place. But it was warm. And smelled of Chanel perfume?

His brows knitted together as he stepped into the room.

Eloise?

“There you are. Still, I guess waiting is my punishment for making a surprise visit,” she said as he dumped the brown bag onto the dining room table near the stairs.

His ex-wife had dressed in her normal care, but there was a swelling bump protruding from under her jacket, and, more importantly, she was one thousand miles from her own home.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he said as something cold hit his veins. “Ryan? Has something—”

“Relax. He’s fine.” She nodded for him to sit down on Paige’s sage green sofa, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Adam ignored her and crossed the room to a very uncomfortable cane chair.

His panic lessened, but not his confusion.

“Ryan’s good, and you’re in one piece. So why are you here?”

“Why do you think?” She arched a dark eyebrow. “We’re worried about you. You were supposed to come home Sunday.”

“And you didn’t think to call rather than turn up?” he said, which earned him a frosty glare. Oh, yeah. He’d been letting everything go to voicemail. He shifted his shoulders, and the chair stabbed at his back. What the hell was the point of uncomfortable furniture? “I did reply to a couple of texts.”

“One-word replies weren’t very convincing.”

“So, what? You pictured me holed up somewhere contemplating the meaning of life?”

“I admit it sounds extreme, but you haven’t been yourself lately. I know this book’s been challenging for you.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it.” It didn’t begin to cover the year of frustrating agony at not being able to get his ideas to work or his brain to function in a logical and creative way. Then he frowned. “If this is a rescue mission, where’s Ryan?”

“Please.” Eloise gave an annoyed snort and smoothed down her jacket. “He’s a meathead.”

“He’s your husband and the father of your unborn child,” Adam reminded her. He wanted to be mad. To tell his ex-wife to stop interfering. But the tense set of her jaw and the smudge of dark circles under her eyes stopped him. She really had been worried.

“Fine, so he’s my meathead,” she conceded. “But I specifically told him not to spring the pregnancy news on you while you were away. Or unsupervised.”

“Who? Him or me?”

“Both of you,” she replied in a tart voice before she softened. “Adam, I’m sorry.”

“What? For getting knocked up?” he said, trying to shake off the energy building in his body. The one trying to drag him back to another time. To another pregnancy.

“You know what I mean,” she said.

They were both silent. He shut his eyes and lifted his head back, trying to push unwanted things away. Back when she’d had the miscarriage, it had been impossible to talk. To give a name to what had happened. It had been Ryan who’d managed to get through Eloise’s impenetrable walls and comfort her. Succeed where Adam had failed. It wasn’t until after the divorce they’d even been able to mention it to each other.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked. “Are you—”

“I’m almost six months along,” she said in a soft voice. “We didn’t want to tell anyone in case…well, you know.”

Yeah. He did.

As painful as it was, if their relationship didn’t survive the miscarriage, it wouldn’t have survived a baby. Water under the bridge. They’d both moved on from what happened.

Dark shadows filled her eyes, and his annoyance fled. She didn’t often show her vulnerable side. He stood up from the uncomfortable chair to join her on the sofa.

“You’re going to make great parents.”

She gave a little sniff and fished out a tissue to dab at her eyes. Crying? He’d only seen her do so twice before. Once when she’d told him there was more to her affair with Ryan, and then when Adam gave her away at the wedding.

“It’s just the hormones,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “If you dare tell Ryan, I’ll take out a ‘Sex in your Seventies’ subscription in your name,” she warned, and he reached for her hand.

“Your dirty little secret’s safe with me,” he said. It earned him a smile. His brother was a straight-talker, almost childish at times compared to Eloise’s sophistication, but despite their mismatched personalities, they managed to rub away each other’s sharp edges.

We brought out the worst in each other.

“Thanks,” she said, not pulling her hand away. She studied his face, her eyes sharp like a hawk. “If nothing’s wrong, then why are you here? I wasn’t aware beach towns were your thing.”

“Since I managed to finish five chapters in as many days.”

“That’s what this is about? You’re writing again?” Relief filled her face, making him regret avoiding her calls.

“Who knew the secret ingredient was a weird town in the middle of nowhere?” he admitted. “Sorry to have dragged you out here. What time’s your flight? I can drive you to the airport. Let you get back to your meathead husband and father of your child.”

“Next Sunday at ten,” she promptly said.

What?

Adam stood up and paced the room, then turned back to her. “Today’s Friday. That’s over a week away.”

“I might be pregnant, but I haven’t turned stupid. I figured I’d work on my tan and make sure you really were okay.”

“You hate the beach. And the sun.”

“Now you’re making me sound like a vampire,” she complained as she stood up. He ignored her.

“I appreciate the grand gesture, but having my ex-wife vacationing down the road isn’t quite what my editor ordered. And what about Ryan?”

“Relax,” she said as her fingers flew across the screen of her phone. His brother’s photo appeared. “I only said my meathead couldn’t come up until I’d spoken to you.”

“Wait? Ryan’s here, too?” Adam stalked over to the window and glanced out. Laney stood in front of her store with a huge bunch of lilies in her arms and Violet sitting primly at her feet.

He turned back to Eloise, who’d reapplied her lipstick and was inspecting her eye makeup in a compact mirror.

“Isn’t it great?” She shut the compact with a decisive snap and got to her feet. “He’s waiting for us at the inn. We should go before he starts drinking for two. Then you can show us around this place and take us out to dinner.”

Adam closed his eyes. This wasn’t quite how he’d envisioned his day going.

He really was fine with the fact his brother had knocked up his ex-wife and that they appeared to be blissfully happy, but he didn’t need to experience it firsthand.

To be reminded that their happiness was due to his own failure. While living next door to the only other woman he’d attempted to get serious with.

“Well?” Eloise said in an impatient voice, sounding more like her usual self. “Are you coming?”

“Sure.” He followed her to the door, this time making sure he locked it on the way out. There’d been too many surprises for one day.