Chapter Seventeen
A creak and dip in the bed woke Cole before sunrise the next morning, followed by the brush of soft lips to his forehead. Maddie’s sweet perfume filled his senses, and he worked to pry his eyes open. She sat beside him on the bed, dressed in her usual chef outfit and looking far more awake than him.
“I thought you said someone was covering the morning shift?” he asked.
“Me, too,” she said. “Unfortunately, my backup has been throwing up half the night. Can’t have germs like that in my kitchen.”
“I say let ’em eat cold cereal or something. I’d make it worth your while.” He raised one brow, though struggling to stay awake.
“Even then, someone’s got to set it all out.” She laughed softly. “Besides, you’ll be asleep before I walk out the door.”
“Not if you ditch those clothes and climb back in bed with me.”
“You know I can’t,” she whispered, cupping his cheek. “Besides, if I didn’t come into work, Ruby would probably send someone over to check on me. And then we’d probably both get fired. I’d hate for that to happen.”
He sighed and lay back against the pillow, letting his eyelids drift shut. “You might be onto something there.”
“Stay as long as you like, I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee set to brew in another hour or two.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you. For…everything.”
And thank you for making last night the best of my life.
That’s what he wanted to say, anyway, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead all he could manage was a whispered, “Anytime, Maddie.”
Her lips brushed against his, light as a feather, then warmed a trail up to his ear. “You know I’m going to hold you to that, right?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“Me, too.” She drew back. “Hey, Cole?”
He cracked one eye back open at the hesitation in her voice. “Yeah?”
“You…don’t need to call your grandpa or anything, do you?”
“No I left him a note, saying where I’d be.”
“Oh, great. Reverend Granville’s gonna love that.”
Cole grinned and slid his hand around her waist, trying to resist the temptation to pull her back on top of him. “Nah, I said you were scared of the dark and asked me to come over for protection.”
“You mean come over with protection.”
At that, he laughed. “Good thing I stocked up, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
Pink tinted her cheeks. She looked amazing this morning, her usual stoic facade absent, replaced with a soft, happy glow. Would the others notice at work today, her waltzing in and acting like she was still on cloud nine? Would she confess to their night of loving making, that he’d done all he could to kiss away any doubts she’d had of her wonderful curves and the affect they’d had on him from day one?
Did he really care?
Nope, not a bit.
“I’ll be sure to restock before tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
“When I come back over for an encore performance.” She chuckled and he curled his body around hers. “What, you don’t really think my grandfather will believe I cured you of your fear of the dark in just one night, do you?”
“I think I’d better go and hope your grandfather doesn’t think too much about any of it.”
She pressed one last kiss to his forehead, muttering something about “surely going to hell,” then pecked him a quick kiss on the cheek. Cole puckered up, and she planted one last kiss on his lips as well. Then she was gone, off to save the world one pancake at a time. He rolled back over and let sleep pull him under once more, succumbing to dreams about beautiful towns with autumn leaves, Maddie snuggled beside him on a park bench in the sunshine, them sitting together watching happy, smiling passersby.
Unfortunately, the dream quickly faded, replaced by one far gloomier and eerily like the reality he’d been living the past few days. He awoke disoriented and unsettled, trying to brush it off. Because he’d lived too much of that for too long. Until last night, that is. Last night had easily been the best of his life. And not just because of what he and Maddie had done, but because there, in her arms, nothing else seemed to matter. Not his future, not the past, only the there and now.
It’d been incredibly freeing.
Memories of their night together filled his mind, and Cole gave up on going back to sleep this time. He rolled out of bed with a smile, downed a quick cup of coffee while watching Fido ram his fish lips into the side of his bowl—seriously, man, what was up that?—and then headed home to shower and change.
By the time he headed toward his shop, a bright orange sun was lifting off from the horizon. It was like an omen, a sign that today was a day full of possibilities. He strode around the last corner between home and his shop, looking forward to seeing Maddie at work later but trying to think through how to act around her without being too obvious about the step they’d taken together last night, and drew to an abrupt stop. Up ahead sat his storefront, its glass frontage covered in large, blood red letters. A message, no doubt, intended for him:
Go back to Texas, Jailbird.
…
Maddie glared at the noonday news Tuesday, ready to take on the town. Or at least that nosey Amber Jensen, Channel 10’s obnoxious field correspondent. Someone had called in about Cole’s shop being defaced, and instead of criticizing the vandals, prissy Amber had strutted up to Cole—on a ladder, sponge in one hand and bucket of soapy water in the other—and demanded to know why he was bringing such chaos to “our quiet town.”
“You want chaos, woman?” Maddie muttered. “I’ll show you chaos.”
Ruby looked up from her napkin-folding at the end of the bar in surprise. “What’s that, dear?”
The dining room was empty of all but staff today, the inn’s fall occupancy rates beginning to taper off and their current guests early eaters. Otherwise, she never would have turned on the flat screen television Brent had installed this summer behind the bar. Good for the sports fans, he’d said. Or for putting arrogant twit news reporters on display. Maddie shot the television another dirty look as Miles emerged from the hallway leading back to his office.
“Can I have the afternoon off, Ruby? I need to have words with that stuck-up news reporter on Channel 10.”
Miles took a seat next to his grandmother. “What’s your beef with Amber?”
“My beef,” said Maddie, “is that she’s harassing Cole, who is clearly the victim here.”
“Victim? What are you talking about?”
“Someone vandalized Cole’s shop again this morning,” said Ruby. “Wrote a despicable message in big bold letters for the whole town to see.”
“Oh, wow. Poor kid can’t catch a break.” Miles shook his head.
Maddie pointed to the dark television. “Not with the town treating him like yesterday’s garbage. Seriously, how can these people live with themselves?”
“People shun what they don’t understand, dear. It’s no different here than many other towns across the country.”
“But it’s not right, Ruby. Here he is, trying to make a decent living, to teach people music, for crying out loud, and we’re shunning him like he’s some crazy former psychopath.”
Miles reached for a ham sandwich from the tray Maddie’d left on the counter with a shrug. “Maybe he is.”
“Maybe you should take that back.”
“Madelyn Frye.” It wasn’t unusual for Ruby to call her by her given name. But when she threw in a last name as well, anyone close to the Mastersons knew a lecture was sure to follow. “I’ll not have threats of violence here in my inn. Miles, you will apologize to Maddie for your snide remark.”
“But—”
“Apologize.”
He cast Maddie a dark look. “Sorry. For insinuating the obvious,” he added with a mumble.
“Now, Maddie, you apologize to Miles.”
She threw him an even darker look. “Sorry that I know the real story and you don’t.”
Miles’s right brow arched. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” She crossed her arms. “According to his grandfather, Cole is neither an axe murderer nor a thief. Well, not a thief for sure. Honestly, I didn’t ask about any murders.”
“So if he didn’t steal and he didn’t kill anyone, why the heck is everyone saying he spent time in prison?”
“Because he did,” she said, her gaze drifting back to the television screen. Had he been all over the news that day, too? Blasphemed for a misunderstood role in his mother’s crime? “His only fault, though, was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cole was trying to stop his strung out mom from robbing a liquor store.”
“Man, I’m sorry, Maddie.” Miles ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been riding you about the guy for a while now. Guess I let the rumors and suspicion get to me, too.”
“Yeah, well, now you know better.”
“Thomas always believed in the boy, said he had a good heart. His mama, though, I remember her. She was something else altogether.” Ruby shook her head, frowning.
“Guys, we’ve got to do something to help him. These rumors are getting out of hand. Much more, and those jerks might run him right out of town.”
“Probably their intent,” said Miles.
“Then help me.” Maddie threw him a pleading look. “Help him.”
Miles took a bite of his sandwich and leaned back, assuming the classic Miles “analyzing the situation” pose. Ruby stopped with her napkin folding, brows drawn low in concentration as well. Maddie looked between the two of them, waiting for an idea to surface.
“What happened?” Brent strode in with Kayla close behind. “The last time you all looked this serious, Uncle Albert had died.”
“Small-mindedness is what happened.” Maddie flicked the TV back on. “Someone vandalized Cole’s shop, left him a nasty message in big red letters. Only they’ve got the story wrong. He was innocent, just didn’t have anyone in his corner to convince the jury. Now Little Miss Jensen on Channel 10 is having a heyday vilifying Cole who is ‘putting the town in unease.’”
Kayla shot Miles a dirty look.
“What?” he said. “It’s not like I told her to do that. Heck, we only went out on one date.”
“Thank heavens for that,” Ruby mumbled.
“So, do the police have any idea who’s behind this?”
Maddie ran a hand over her hair. “No. And honestly? I don’t think they care. So far, they’ve chalked all the eggings up to rowdy teenagers. I half wonder if they aren’t all secretly hoping he packs his bags and leaves.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” Kayla placed a hand on Maddie’s shoulder.
“Wait a minute.” Ruby leaned forward, her gaze roving between them. “There’s more going on here than you’re both telling us. Ladies?”
Maddie felt Kayla give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. What to do? Lie and say there was no more, and risk the Mastersons not doing all they could to help Cole, or admit her feelings—and put his job in jeopardy—and hope they would all pull together to save him from the town mob? She let out a long sigh.
“I…”
“You fell for him.”
All eyes widened in surprise and shifted to Brent, who turned up his hands. “What? It was bound to happen. Seriously, was I the only one who saw this coming?”
Miles faked a cough to cover up his laugh, and Maddie threw him a warning look. Stupid camera…
“Fine, yes, it happened all right? Hard not to, with all you ridiculous lovebirds flitting about the place.”
“Oh, whatever,” said Miles. “Wait—what about this other guy, the one you’re bringing to the gala?”
She looked to the floor and shrugged. “It didn’t work out.”
“Kissing coworkers and breaking hearts.” He shook his head. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”
Maddie swiped a folded napkin and chucked it at Miles, who easily dodged it, laughing. His grandmother shot him a warning look, and the mood at the table sobered once more. Maddie dropped onto a bar stool and looked to the others.
“Needless to say, I’m worried about Cole. And maybe feeling a bit…protective of him. But no matter what happens between us, he deserves a fresh start here in Mount Pleasant.”
“Who else knows about his past?” asked Brent.
“I’m not sure. Heck, I didn’t even know it until Old Tom filled me in the other day. I mean, sure, it’s probably all public record, but you’d have to be looking to find that kind of dirt on someone.”
“Like someone with a vengeance.” Kayla fell quiet for a moment, then looked to the family matriarch. “Ruby, do you think I could borrow Brent for the rest of the afternoon? I think I have an idea.”
“Of course, dear. What is it you two plan to do?”
Kayla looked from Brent to Maddie, determination in her eyes. “Some digital sightseeing.”
…
Cole heard his cell buzz from its place on his makeshift dresser and sighed. No doubt it was Maddie, checking up on him yet again. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it was a pay-as-you-go plan and she was eating up all his minutes. Heck, at this point, he didn’t have the heart to do much more than play the blues.
Because that’s what he was living—the blues.
How you holding up? her text read.
Yep, checking on him again. Yesterday, the knowledge that she cared, that she was worried about him, would have warmed him from the inside out. But ever since finding that hate message plastered all over his shop this morning, he’d struggled to shake off the chill of rejection.
He never should have signed that lease.
I have dinner waiting over here for you. And dessert.
His stomach growled in response, unhappy that he’d hid in his room most of the evening. With the inn’s business slowing down, though, Miles had asked to trim Cole’s hours to only Wednesday through Saturday. With only a few weeks left until they closed for the season, and with a nearly empty inn, even that might be a stretch.
Which didn’t bode well for Cole’s wallet.
Instead of mope in the living room or down in the shop, he’d holed up in his room. While he loved his grandfather, today wasn’t a good one for hearing the usual lecture about facing his past and moving on. Because it was growing abundantly clear that there was no moving on, not in a town like this. Trouble was, he didn’t know a town that wasn’t like this. Cole would be stuck working crap jobs the rest of his life, all thanks to his dear old mom.
And Maddie deserved so much better.
Frustrated at the quicksand he called life, Cole set his guitar on its stand, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door.
“I’m going out for a bit, Grandpa,” he called.
Silence answered.
Must be in bed already, Cole thought. Though, a quick glance at the microwave clock found it to be only eight. Worry clawed at him—it wasn’t like Old Tom not to answer. Cole checked his room, the bathroom, then looked out the small window at the end of the hall. Relief washed over him to see the delivery truck was gone. It’d kill him to find his grandfather…
No, he wouldn’t let himself think like that. Old Tom was sharp as a porcupine’s quill and spry as a jack rabbit; his end was nowhere near in sight. Besides, he had a medical alert bracelet, caring neighbors, and a town full of friends—if his grandfather so much as hiccupped wrong, someone would know and rush to the rescue.
What would that be like, Cole wondered as he made his way down their set of stairs, out to the sidewalk, and then up the flight leading to Maddie. To have friends and acquaintances who looked out for you instead of looked out because of you?
Maddie opened the door nearly the second he knocked, and once she’d shouldered the damn thing open stepped out to pull him into a tight hug.
“I’ve worried about you all day.”
And there was his answer. At her touch, her voice, he nearly cried. How could he stick around, knowing the blight he was bound to bring to her reputation?
Selfishly, he stayed, if only for tonight.
“No need to worry,” he lied, voice thick with more emotion than he would have liked. “I’m a big boy.”
“A big boy who’s had a hornet’s nest dropped on his head.” She drew back, fury clear on her face. “I about stormed downtown at lunch and clawed that reporter’s eyes out.”
Cole chuckled and led her forward, then muscled the door shut behind them. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
“I’m serious, Cole. Like you didn’t have enough going on with the graffiti? She’s all, ‘Look at me, I’m so cute and lalala,’ while this town’s dragging you through hell and back.”
Yep, pretty much. “Not the first time, Madds. Fairly certain it won’t be the last.”
“Well, we’re working to remedy that. In the meantime, come eat.”
Not understanding but starved, he did as she ordered, savoring every bite of the meal and every story that she told. Cole remained quiet, shoveling food in—okay, he was more hungry than he’d realized—and nodding where appropriate. Full from the lasagna and melt-in-your-mouth garlic bread, he passed on the key lime pie. Maddie’s shoulders sank.
“Maybe later,” he promised.
She nodded, not meeting his eyes.
Great, now he’d gone and upset her. Nothing like being the town outcast, bringing misery everywhere you go…
“You wanna play cards or something?” she asked, her back to him as she stowed their untouched dessert away. “Watch some TV?”
Cole slipped off his seat and took a new one on her tattered couch, then patted the space beside him. “Nope. I wanna sit here with my girl, listening to her musical voice as she tells me about her favorite childhood adventures.”
She cast him a confused, wary look. “You feeling all right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because you’re the one with the musical voice.” She shook her head and took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, drawing a pillow onto her lap. “And my childhood had no adventures, which is why I turned out to be the sharp-tongued smarmy-pants I am today. Now lay down.”
“I’m fine, really.”
“Lay. Down. You look exhausted.”
He was, mentally and physically, and so argued no more. When he cast her a questioning look, she ordered him to close his eyes and relax. Again, he did as he was told. Her fingers pressed gently above the bridge of his nose, slid up and over his brows, and came to rest at his temples. As she moved, the scents from tonight’s kitchen work stirred in the air around them.
Garlic. Parmesan. Cloves. Something citrusy.
Up, over, hold. Up, over, hold. The stress he’d been carrying in his shoulders began to slip away.
“Tell me a story,” he whispered, fearful he’d fall asleep if the silence continued.
“A story? Hmm. Once upon a time, there lived a fairy princess in a castle far, far away.”
He lifted a brow and chanced a look at Maddie. She frowned and pushed his brow back into place. “My choice, so deal with it.”
A smile tugged at his lips. She had that effect on him.
“Close your eyes. I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
Her mouth quirked at one corner. “Like that. Now quit.”
“Fine.” He closed both eyes, then cracked one back open, just to goad her.
“Cole…”
He chuckled, allowing the open lid to drift shut. “Yes, ma’am. But I have to know—does this story have a happy ending?”
“Of course,” she whispered, stroking his face even more gently than before. “Fairy tales always do.”