We ate breakfast at Libby’s Café on Church Street. I laid my arm on the table and he clasped my hand, stroking his thumb along mine, while I dragged my last bite of pancake through the pool of syrup on my plate. His touch and his gaze fixed on mine stirred crazy flutters in my chest. I didn’t resist the feeling, but savoured it while sipping my coffee, letting the strong brew grow cold rather than rush our final moments together.

Eventually, when we couldn’t linger any longer, we ambled hand in hand to his car parked at the curb outside. Bright morning sunshine warmed the air and glinted off the BMW’s chrome trim.

I slid my arms over Mitch’s shoulders and he pulled me close. When his mouth found mine, I leaned into him, losing myself in his kiss. As desire curled through me, excitement racked my emotions with equal strength. I focused on every sensation sweeping through me, working to store them in my memory.

“Next weekend,” he said when our lips parted, a sensual smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

My gaze lingered on his lips as I ran my hand along his jaw and caressed the soft dark hairs of his beard. “Can’t wait.”

“This weekend has been incredible, Carly.” The gleam in his eyes matched the sentiment in his words. “Who would have ever guessed we’d come full circle like this?”

“Not me,” I said, “but I’m learning to love surprises.”

After one final kiss, Mitch stepped into his car, and waved to me before pulling into traffic. Watching his BMW turn onto Main Street and disappear, I reminded myself that I’d only have to wait five days to see him again. My heart glowed with fullness and anticipation.

With a bounce in my steps, I crossed the street at the corner and headed to the Sweet Dreams Bakery a block down. Maybe it was time to let Brooke in on my secret. I had to tell someone or I’d burst.

I found Brooke at the front counter, sliding a tray of tarts into the display case. Beside her at the cash, Julianne was occupied serving a lineup of customers.

“Hi, Carly,” Brooke said when she spotted me, her voice bright but verging on frazzled.

I lingered at the end of the display case, not wanting to get in the way. “I see you’re swamped. I just dropped in to say hi since I was having breakfast at Libby’s.”

“I am pretty busy, but I can take a break in about half an hour if you don’t mind waiting.”

“I’ll wait. I’ve got a book on my phone I can read.”

“I just made strawberry tarts.” She waved at the tray in the display case. “It’s a new recipe. You have to try one and let me know what you think. You can be my official tester.”

“I just had a big breakfast, but I can’t turn down one of those.”

Brooke slid one of the tarts onto a plate and handed it to me. I thanked her and took it to sit at a table near the window, placing the plate on the floral-print tablecloth. Crossing my legs under the table, I plucked a napkin from the rosewood napkin holder before taking my first bite.

I nearly moaned with pleasure as the delicate, buttery pastry and warm, sweet filling hit my taste buds. I turned toward Brooke, caught her eye and sent her a thumbs-up before shoving another bite in my mouth.

When my gaze wandered across the street, I noticed a “For Lease” sign on one of the storefronts. The notion of opening a business in Eastport popped into my head. Did they need a florist? Maybe I needed a change of scene, and I’d be closer to Mitch here.

Wait, I was getting ahead of myself. Did I really want to come back here? Leave the city behind and reintegrate myself in small-town life?

Aware of someone loitering by my shoulder, I glanced up. A stout elderly woman with stiff silver curls and thick glasses scowled down at me.

“I saw you,” she said.

Taken by surprise, I swallowed my last bite of pastry and swiped my fingers over my napkin. “What do you mean?”

The woman’s lips puckered in disapproval. “With Mitchell Logan. Kissing.”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the thought, although my blissful expression only made the woman’s frown deepen. I turned in my chair to face her. “Yes. Is there something immoral about kissing in public?”

“There is when the man is married to someone else,” she snapped, stiffening her slightly stooped shoulders.

Ah. Now I understood her displeasure. “Mitch isn’t married anymore,” I explained patiently, draping my arm over the back of my chair.

The woman tapped a gnarled finger on the table. “He most certainly is. To that lovely creature Tanya.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” I kept my voice level although she was beginning to grate on my nerves. “They divorced a year ago.”

The woman recoiled, placing her hand against her chest as though the very idea offended her. “Not according to his grandmother. Rose and I are good friends. She’s so fond of Tanya, she certainly would have said something to me. And besides, I saw the birthday card Mitchell sent to her just last month. It had Tanya’s name on it along with his.”

Just last month. Could the old lady be suffering from dementia?

“You must be mistaken,” I repeated, though my voice had gone thin.

“I may be old but I’m not senile,” she said testily.

I dropped my hands to my lap. “But it’s Thanksgiving weekend. He’s here alone.”

“Tanya’s an ER nurse. She sometimes works holidays, but she encourages Mitchell to see his family.” The woman’s tone softened and she eyed me with compassion through her thick glasses. “Dear, I can see by your face that you didn’t know. I’m sorry to break it to you so harshly.” She tapped my shoulder in a sympathetic gesture. “Better that you know now than have your heart broken.”

Too late. My heart had shattered when it dropped into the pit of my stomach. While the old woman shuffled away, I stared at her back, rooted to my chair. For a moment I felt nothing but numb, my blood frozen in my veins—before a surge in my pulse made my head spin.

What an idiot I am.

My face scorching, I turned away, resisting the tears that burned behind my eyes. Pain and confusion tumbled through me, leading to a harsh truth I could hardly bear.

Everything Mitch had told me was a lie. Just like eighteen years ago, he’d played me again—and I’d fallen for it hook, line and sinker.