After an afternoon that was, by far, one of the most romantic in my life, Turner had dropped me at the beach in front of the inn. He had to visit to the local filling station at the next marina. He promised to return in an hour.

I hurried through a shower and got dressed in the clothes I’d arrived in. Coco had packaged up all the other clothes for me to take home. As hard as I tried to pay for everything, she refused. If there was ever an award for best innkeeper in the world, Coco would be a shoe in. She could also win for most magical and best cook and baker. She was truly extraordinary to the point that I was sure Rory wouldn’t believe one word of my weekend story. I was still having a hard time believing it. And, in the midst of it all, I had met a man who I couldn’t stop thinking about.

I straightened up the room a bit and gathered my things, hoping that I’d find Turner down in the bakery. I headed downstairs and listened hard for the deep, mellow voice that I’d already memorized. I heard a few unfamiliar voices coming from the bakery along with the aroma of buttered rum cupcakes. I planned to buy a dozen to take to work in the morning. If nothing else, I’d have Coco’s unbelievable baked goods to add some credence to my otherwise outlandishly wonderful tale.

Deep down I hoped that Turner and I would exchange information so that I would see him again. Rory would have no choice but to believe me if she met the romantic hero I’d found for my happy ending.

As I walked past the front windows, a burst of pink color caught my eye. I gazed out and gasped in surprise. There were even more pink roses on the once skeletal rose vines, enough of them that their heavy perfume penetrated the leaded glass windows. Another impossibility and yet I was looking at the pink flowers and they were as real as the house I was standing in.

I headed down the narrow hallway to the bakery. I heard the bell on the front door ring. My heart picked up speed along with my pace. I stepped into the bakery just as two people were leaving with a pink bakery box. I’d hoped the bell would be Turner, but with the two customers leaving, the bakery was empty.

I walked to the window and looked out. The bakery window afforded a fairly clear view of the cove. There were a few pleasure boats anchored in the middle of the quiet blue water, but I couldn’t see the Pickled Pepper. At least not from where I was standing.

“There you are, Ginger.” Coco was wearing a bright blue apron that contrasted nicely with her dark hair and olive complexion. She held up a pink bakery box. “I’ve packed you up some buttered rum cupcakes for the road.”

I forced a smile. “Thank you so much. You’ve been so wonderful.” I walked to the counter. “Coco, have you, by any chance, seen Turner?” I tried my hardest to sound nonchalant as if I didn’t care either way if she’d seen him.

“Oh yes, he came by about twenty minutes ago with three lobsters. I think you were in the shower.”

My heart raced ahead just at the thought of him being here at the inn. “Great. I’ll just head outside to see him then. I needed to—uh—ask him something.” I had no idea just how much Coco had figured out, but she seemed to know my thoughts long before they even popped into my head. I knew my casual act wasn’t fooling her.

Her eyes rounded. “Oh, but he’s gone now. Got called away. A friend’s fishing boat called in a mayday. Some kind of engine trouble. Turner headed out to help the stranded boat. I don’t expect to see him again today.”

As hard as I’d worked at the nonchalance, I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

Coco reached over and took my hand. “Are you all right? You look pale. I’ll get you a cup of tea.” She released my hand to leave.

“No, Coco, I’m fine. No tea. I’m fine,” I repeated again, more for my own self-assurance than hers. My hand trembled slightly as I reached for the string on the pink box. “Again, I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re so welcome, and come again.”

I walked toward the door.

“Oh, and don’t forget, Ginger, love and romance keeps us all young and happy.”

I looked back at her and caught another glimpse of creases around her eyes and mouth just before they disappeared. She inclined her head toward the window where a long vine of pink roses crept along a trellis. “I’ve heard it makes flowers bloom too.”

I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I headed out the door and glanced about on the slight chance that Turner had stuck around just long enough to say good-bye. But he was gone. Right along with my happy ending.