Chapter 1
Izzy
“Izzy, dear, is that you?”
The hair on Izzy Sutton’s neck stood on end. She’d recognize that shrill voice anywhere. Good grief. Had Mrs. Cooper followed her to the grocery store again? Pasting on a smile, she turned around and greeted her neighbor. “What are the odds? This is the third time we’ve bumped into each other here this month.”
Sure, Valley Market was a favorite destination in their small town. Romance, Oregon—population 30,000—only had one downtown district, but there were enough businesses for everyone to frequent without the possibility of running into a familiar face. The gray-haired woman studying her over the rim of her spectacles had ulterior motives.
“It’s the fourth time, dear. And the odds are high because I remember your schedule as well as my own. I view it as part of my duty to watch out for my neighbors.”
Izzy bet she did. Mrs. Cooper’s sharp eyes were the first ones she saw in the morning when she looked out her kitchen window. After years of living next door to her, she understood her MO. “I know why you’re following me.”
The old woman feigned shock. “What? I’m not following anyone. I’m here to buy some”—her eyes darted around the produce bins—“potatoes. The mister loves his hash browns. So do a lot of single men in this town, like my nephew who just moved here. He’s a vet over at the animal hospital. Would you like to meet him?”
“Well, you’re in luck today,” Izzy quipped, pointing to a display ten feet away. “Potatoes are on sale. $1.38 a pound. I was going to pick up some for myself.”
Mrs. Cooper harrumphed. “So that’s a no to going out with Burl?”
“A firm no. But thank you for watching out for me … all these years,” she added, trying to sound more gracious than she felt. “As I’ve said before, I’m not looking to be set up.”
“But all the ladies at Bingo agree it’s time you started dating. You need some companionship, especially now that you’re all alone in that house of yours. If you’re worried that no man will want you because of your”—she lowered her voice—“past indiscretion, you needn’t worry. You’re still a pretty young thing.”
“I can’t believe—" Izzy shook her head. One of the downsides of living in a small town was that everyone and everyone’s friend knew—or thought they knew—your business. “I wish you all would stop talking about me behind my back, Mrs. Cooper.”
“We’re just concerned—”
“You and your friends can stop worrying about me. Really.”
The older lady’s eyes narrowed as she threw out her final offer. “Say … I was going to have Burl over for breakfast tomorrow, but how about I send him over to your place instead? He’d pay of course. That would save me some trouble. I do hate cooking.”
Izzy swallowed the chuckle bubbling up in her throat. The sudden flush in Mrs. Cooper’s cheeks confirmed what she already knew: This sweet, old lady would go to any lengths to play matchmaker. Including lying about her award-winning baking skills. “I can’t imagine what a burden it must be for you to make your pies then. Does this mean you won’t be entering the contest tomorrow?”
Their annual Fall Festival drew in crowds from the surrounding towns every second Saturday in October. Even with some tough competition, Mrs. Cooper’s pumpkin pie recipe wowed the judges year after year. She would never give up her reigning title that easily.
“I said I dislike cooking,” Mrs. Cooper retorted with a raise of her plump chin. “That doesn’t include baking. I already picked out my pumpkins when I came here two days ago.” She lowered her voice as she continued, “I’m adding a new ingredient this year. I would tell you what it is, but I’m afraid this recipe needs to stay a family secret. Unless you would like to become a part of—”
Already guessing where this conversation was headed, Izzy let loose a deep breath when her cell phone rang. She plucked it from her tote bag, her chest warming as she read the name on the screen. “Sorry, Mrs. Cooper, I need to take this. It’s Gracie.”
“Of course. Say hello to her for me.” The older woman waved as she pushed her shopping cart to the next aisle.
“Hi sweetheart, thank you for saving me,” Izzy gushed as she answered the call.
“Saving you? From what?”
The bubbly voice on the other end of the line conjured up a mental picture of her daughter. Oh, how she longed to see her blue eyes and dimpled smile in person. “Guess who I ran into at the store—again.”
“Not Mrs. Cooper?” Gracie laughed. “Maybe it’s time you got a restraining order on her.”
“Tell me about it. Apparently, she and her friends all want to help me find a man. Why can’t she accept the fact that I'm not interested in dating? The next time I leave the house, I’m going out the side door and taking the bus. That always worked with Grandma. She never suspected I’d snuck out when my car was still parked in the driveway.”
“Mama …”
Izzy chewed her lower lip, immediately regretting her admission. Her daughter’s disapproving tone reminded her that she was supposed to be the adult, not vice versa. “I’m kidding. And I only snuck out a few times before your Grandpa caught me and threatened to remove my room door.”
“That was a genius move. He must’ve been such a cool guy.”
“He was.” Her daddy was the best. Cancer had taken him twenty years ago, but she could still hear his gravelly voice. If you don’t care to respect our rules, Bella, we won’t care to respect your privacy. The wink he added when her mother wasn’t looking confirmed how much she’d had him wrapped around her finger. She’d lost her best friend when he passed. Not to mention the last honest man in her life.
“Hello?” Gracie asked. “Are you there?”
“Yes, sorry. How are you? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. I just had a few minutes in between classes, so I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
How was it possible her daughter was old enough to be a freshman in college? But Izzy was darn proud of that fact. “Thank you for calling. It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m doing fine, just out picking up some fruit and flowers. They have the most amazing floral arrangements today of orange roses, white daisies, and yellow mini carnations the color of your hair. They’re almost as beautiful as my baby girl is.”
“Mama,” Gracie drawled, the embarrassment in her tone obvious. “Please don’t say that.”
“Why not? You are beautiful, inside and out.”
“I meant the baby girl part. I’m eighteen. That’s considered an adult in most, if not all, parts of the world.”
Izzy scoffed, remembering her own conversations with her mother at that age. She’d been so ready to take on the world, even motherhood. Raising a child alone had been rough, but she never regretted having Gracie. She was the best thing to happen to her.
“I love you, baby, you know that, don’t you?” Izzy spoke around the lump in her throat. Not being able to see her daughter every day was harder than she expected. “Is there anything you need? Are you and your roommate getting along? If you want me to talk to her about not blasting music late at night, I will.”
“I’m good,” Gracie assured her. “She got headphones, so it’s not a problem anymore. But are you okay? You sound like you’re crying.”
“I’m fine,” Izzy sniffed as she wiped her eyes. “It’s really quiet around the house without you.” Even as the owner of the town’s newest Bed and Breakfast, she still felt alone when guests were there. She made it a point to respect people’s privacy and to keep her professional and personal lives separate. It was easier this way when it came time to say goodbye.
Keeping her head down, she pretended to inspect the apples in the bin next to her. She hoped she wouldn’t be running into anyone else today, especially not with tears running down her face. She blotted at her hot cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. “I just miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Mama. Do you want me to come home this weekend? I’ll ask around for a ride—”
“No, sweetheart, you need to focus on studying. Don’t worry about me.”
“Are you sure? I can come back tonight after my last class and go to the festival with you tomorrow.”
“I’m fine, Gracie,” Izzy stated, this time more firmly. At least she would be once she returned home and got her hands on her guitar. If anything could lift her mood, it was music. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture. “I’m hoping to get some writing done today, so that’ll keep me busy.”
“That’s great. I still can’t believe your song’s on the radio. Whenever it comes on, I have to try so hard not to blab to the world that my mama wrote it.” Gracie paused as a voice in the background called out her name. “Sorry, but I gotta run. The lecture’s about to start.”
“Okay. Have a good class. And don’t forget to take your vitamins!”
“I will, Mom. Love you. Bye!”
“I love you, too, baby,” she managed to answer before the line went silent.
Izzy slipped the phone back into her tote. A sense of contentment settled over her as she reflected on the loves of her life. She had her daughter, her music, and her inn. What else could she ask for? Well, another finished song would be great. Her creative juices could be so hit-or—
A male voice spoke up behind her, finishing her thought. “Miss? Excuse me?”
Miss? When was the last time someone had called her that? Being thirty-six years old didn’t qualify her to order off the senior menu, but she was starting to feel and look her age. Obviously, this person couldn’t see the dark circles under her eyes. Turning around, she greeted him with suspicion. “Can I help you?”
At nearly six-feet tall, he had to arch his back to set his guitar case on the floor. He adjusted the backpack hanging off one shoulder and asked, “Are you Izzy Sutton?”
There was something familiar about the man—or boy, because he couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or two. His handsome face, partially hidden by shades, was attached to an equally good-looking body. Izzy took in his chestnut brown hair, strong cheekbones and full lips. A gleaming set of straight, camera-ready teeth flashed at her when he grinned. That simple act caused her breath to hitch. What a gorgeous smile. She could stare at it all day, which she realized, much to her embarrassment, she was already doing. She dropped her gaze. “Yes, I’m Izzy. I don’t believe we’ve met …”
“We haven’t. I got your name from the sweet lady over there.” He nodded at the older woman eyeing them over a box of cereal. “She overheard me asking about hotels. She said you’re the owner of an inn?”
Good ’ole Mrs. Cooper. She really did watch out for her neighbors. “It’s a Bed and Breakfast. Are you looking for a place to stay?”
“Yeah. Preferably somewhere quiet. Breakfast included would be a plus.”
Izzy grinned. She bet he had a good appetite. Those pectoral muscles bulging under his cotton T-shirt needed nourishment. And she needed to stop checking him out. Focus, Izzy. Close the deal. You’ve only had one guest for the past two weeks. Let’s get another room filled. “Interlude Inn is the place you’re looking for then. I have a room all ready, and you can expect a homemade meal delivered to your door every morning. We can head over as soon as I’m done here. I just have a couple more items to pick up.”
“Sounds awesome. No rush though. I need to get some things myself; that’s why I had the taxi drop me off here.” He looked back to give Mrs. Cooper a thumbs-up and returned his attention to Izzy. “I’m liking this town already. Everyone’s so helpful and friendly.”
“Some more than others,” Izzy quipped as she gave her neighbor a smile. “Dear Mrs. Cooper prides herself on knowing everything about everyone. She lives next door to me, so this won’t be the last you see of her.”
“Sounds just like my Aunt Mae. Our neighbors joke that she’s a walking Twitter feed. Hashtag, trending news.”
“That’s an accurate description,” Izzy chuckled. This kid’s lingo reminded her of Gracie, which was a good thing. It would be nice to have some youthful energy around the house, even if only for a short while. “Why don’t you grab your items and I’ll finish up my shopping. We can meet up front in ten minutes. Is that enough time for you?”
“Yep, sounds perfect.”
She turned to walk away, then paused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Of course, where are my manners.” He offered her another one of his dazzling smiles. “The name’s Chase.”
Chase? That’s when the pieces of the puzzle fell into place like the harmonious notes of a guitar chord. No wonder he looked and sounded so familiar. She’d been watching Chase Lockhart’s videos on YouTube for the past year. Why was the man who had helped finance the opening of her inn here? He must have come to make sure she fulfilled her songwriting agreement. The problem was, she had nothing to show for her sleepless nights, and she’d already spent the advance they paid her. Her only consolation? He had no idea who she was—yet.
Izzy noticed his outstretched hand, waiting for her to respond. She swallowed her shock and reached for it. “It’s nice to meet you, Chase. Welcome to Romance.”