“Do you need some help?” Garrett shielded his face from the rain with his jacket.

“No, I’m standing out here to see how long it takes before I drown.” Dahlia folded her arms over her chest.

“Looks like you’ve already achieved that,” he observed.

She got back into her car and closed the door. Garrett knocked on the window and pantomimed opening the door. She unlocked it and folded her arms across her chest as he sat down in the passenger seat. Her stomach twisted. Why was she being so rude to him? Surely her jealousy had settled by now. It had been one kiss. He was free to talk to whomever he wanted.

The tension in the air was as thick as Maggie’s banana cream pie. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of pie. She’d opted to skip dinner in town in favor of making it back to Candle Beach before the sunlight waned. Look how that had turned out.

“Engine trouble?”

“Yes. Stupid mechanics didn’t fix it and now I’m out of oil.” She stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with him. This was one more reason for him to think she was irresponsible. She knew she should have checked the oil levels herself, but she’d just had her car fixed three months before. The repair should have lasted longer than that.

“I don’t have any oil with me, but I can give you a lift home.”

“That would be nice,” she said stiffly. “Thank you.” She knew she’d been rude to him the night before and she wasn’t sure how things stood between them.

“Sure, that’s what neighbors are for.” He looked at the bags of groceries in the back seat. “Do you need a hand with these?”

She nodded and they each grabbed a few bags and stuffed them in the trunk of his car before she darted in through the passenger door.

They sat in their seats, their drenched clothing dripping onto the cloth upholstery. Garrett turned up the heater, but she still shivered.

“You’ve got to get out of those clothes.” He turned to check out the contents of the backseat. “Here, take off your shirt and put this on.” He handed her a fleece zip-front jacket.

She looked at him pointedly and he turned toward his window. Then she peeled off her wet top and pulled the fleece over her head. The men’s jacket engulfed her and fell in folds against the car’s seat, warming her instantly despite her wet hair.

“Thank you.” She leaned forward to catch the heat emanating from the vent.

Garrett turned in his seat and put his hands on the wheel. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, burrowing into the comforting warmth of the fleece’s collar. The garment smelled like his aftershave, reminding her of how she’d felt with his arms wrapped around her. She surreptitiously took another breath of the tantalizing scent before pushing the collar down and busying herself with drying out her purse. He pulled out onto the highway.

“So what were you doing in Haven Shores today? Just grocery shopping?” The rain pelted the windshield and he increased the wiper speed.

“A few errands,” she said noncommittally. She didn’t want to get into her plans for renovating To Be Read.

“Have you given any thought to selling the bookstore to me?” he asked. “My offer still stands.”

“I won’t be selling.” She gazed out her window and then over to him.

“Oh.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “So you’ll be staying in Candle Beach?”

She breathed through her nose. Even if he wasn’t interested in her romantically, he’d been nice to pick her up and the least she could do was be civil to him. “I’m planning on staying for the foreseeable future. Actually, I was out buying paint and other supplies to renovate the bookstore.” Her hair was still dripping. She brushed a pebble of water off the fleece.

“Look, I think you may have misunderstood my intentions,” he said. “I don’t want to take your business from you. If it works out for you—great. But if you decide being a small-town bookstore owner isn’t your cup of tea, come find me.”

Dahlia remembered how she’d felt listening to Wendy talk about the freedom of not being tied down to any one place or job. Her head pounded. Thank goodness Candle Beach was only ten more minutes down the road.

“You think I’m flighty, I get that. And maybe I am, but I’m doing the best I can.” She jutted out her chin. “I’m going to renovate the bookstore and make it a success.”

“That’s great. I’m happy you decided to stay here. And I never said you were flighty,” he said in measured tones. “But I grew up with a free-spirited mother and I know how hard it was for her to stay in the same place.” He glanced out the window at the angry ocean surf, pounding against the beach. “Heck, I must have attended twenty different schools before I left for college. I never had a chance to make friends or get settled. I vowed never to live like that again. That’s why I want to put down roots in Candle Beach.”

“I’m not like that,” Dahlia said. “I’d never do that to my future children. But that’s part of the reason I want to see the world now.” Her heart flipped at the thought of future children and she wasn’t sure if it was due to being scared about that image, or from the idea of giving up her freedom at that point.

“I’m sure my mom never intended for me to suffer from her actions, but she couldn’t help herself. She’s not a bad person, but the feelings of others don’t rank high on her priority list,” Garrett said. “What about your ex-husband? How did he feel about it?”

“We’re divorced. That says it all.” She looked up at the ceiling. This was the longest car ride of her life. They passed by the overlook where she had first seen Garrett. It seemed like a lifetime ago but had only been three months prior. “I spent my whole marriage compromising on things I wanted to do. After a few years, I’d had enough.”

“So he never compromised on things he wanted to do?” The window had fogged up considerably and he turned the defroster knob to full blast.

“Never,” she said, without even thinking about it.

Had he though? She thought back to their honeymoon. Jeff had wanted to tour historic Boston, but she’d insisted on a cruise. He’d given in, although he was terrified of traveling outside of the U.S. When she’d wanted to take art classes, he hadn’t seen the point, but he’d offered to take a photography class with her. She’d told him it was the sculpting class or nothing.

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought at the time,” she said grudgingly. “We still weren’t meant to be together—we were too different.”

“Different isn’t always a bad thing,” Garrett observed. He expertly piloted the car around what she knew to be Bluebonnet Lake, although in this weather she couldn’t see it.

“It is when it keeps a person from getting to do what they want with their life,” she said.

“But isn’t that how a relationship should work? Two people should grow in their relationship and learn from the other’s interests and dreams,” he said as they pulled into town.

She leaned back against the headrest, deep in thought. Before she could respond to his comment, he’d parked in front of what she’d always think of as Aunt Ruth’s house.

The rain had decreased to a light sprinkle by the time they arrived. She jumped out of the car and he pulled the lever to release the trunk so she could retrieve her groceries. He didn’t get out or offer to help. She didn’t know if that stemmed from a desire to allow her space or if he was irritated with her.

“Thanks for the ride.” She closed the door and waved to him before dashing for the front door. He waited until she had the front door open and then he took off. She watched his tail lights trail away as he drove down the hill to his rental cottage.

It had been a crazy day. Or perhaps, as Wendy had said, a fortunate day. Only time would tell.