SEVERAL THINGS SEEMED TO HAPPEN all at once when I awoke that morning.
First, my eyes opened, and I saw the yellow of the walls.
Where was I?
Second, I moved, stretching slightly to get a better view of my surroundings. A blissful sort of pain hit me. It was the kind of soreness I felt after a run around the island, but as my brain hopped on board, I found myself smiling.
Running had never been that fun.
Third, I rolled over, reaching out for Jake, only to find an empty cold spot where he’d once been.
Fourth, my smile died, and the sunny color of the walls faded as cloud cover fell over the island.
Our night was over, and so were we.
Reality had crept back into our lives.
I found myself resting against the borrowed pillow in the borrowed guest room, feeling lost and alone.
I’d told Jake I was prepared for this. I’d said I was a grown woman who could handle all the pitfalls and implications of the two of us coming together like this. The truth was, I was still the same sad girl on that dock, crying over a boy who didn’t love her enough to stay.
Or, at least, part of me was.
I had known this was going to hurt. I had known it would burn deep down to my very soul, but to say no—to reject love, even for a fleeting moment—would have been a lie to everything we’d had.
And maybe I liked the idea of self-sabotage.
Hell, I’d done it over and over again. First, with Jake and then with Dean. I was on a roll.
Maybe I should just head on down to the bait shop and hit on that nice old man with the lollipops next.
I mentally rolled my eyes, and then the flashbacks from the night before began.
The look in his eyes when he’d come.
How confident he had been when I told him there was no possible way a woman could come that many times in one night.
He’d proven me wrong and then some.
How gently he’d held me after every time, like he was cherishing the short time we had as much as I was.
I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay as I rose from the bed, the smell of him following me. It was then that I noticed his things were missing from the room.
Only a thin yellow rose from the garden remained on the nightstand along with a check for the room.
Nothing could keep the tears in after that. And who was I to stop them? There, in the yellow room, I let myself cry. I let the loss of him hit me full force.
Both then and now.
Jake wasn’t a man you could let go of easily.
I’d done so once before.
So, I’d do it again.
But, for now, I let myself cry and mourn all that could have been…if we’d just believed.
Successfully sneaking out of the yellow room without being seen by guests, I made my way down to my own room on the first floor. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I was in the kitchen, working on my morning routine. Thankfully, I had this down to a science, and I’d done the bulk of the baking the night before, but I always liked to make something fresh.
There was nothing better than waking up to the smell of freshly baked pastries.
Well, maybe except for actually eating them.
I’d reheat the things I’d made the night before, but this helped create the ambiance of homeyness the inn was known for and a reputation and standard I intended on keeping.
Not to mention, all the busywork kept my mind off Jake and all the dirty things we’d done the night before.
“Well, there’s my sister, the whore.”
My eyes widened as my attention shifted away from the industrial mixer I’d been fixated on. Turning, I saw a wicked grin on my little sister’s perfect face as she waltzed into the kitchen, wearing her usual morning attire of a tiny tank top and shorts.
A fashion choice I’d chosen to borrow last night when I visited Jake’s room.
Worked like a charm, too.
Putting on a blank face, I replied, “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
“Oh, please,” she said, placing such emphasis on the second word that it sounded more like puh-lease. “The whole damn island could hear you two knocking boots last night, and don’t try to blame it on a guest. Romeo must have called your name about a thousand times.”
My heart raced. “I am not talking to you about this.”
“Well then, you should have been a little more discreet,” she declared, taking advantage of my morning pot of coffee.
I watched as she poured the largest cup I’d ever seen, drowning it in heavy cream and several spoonful of sugar.
“How is it possible that you’re skinnier than me?” I mumbled.
“I work out, like, twice a day at home. This is a vacation.” She shrugged. “Stop distracting me, and give me the deets. Are you two back together? Fuck buddies? What’s the deal?”
Snatching a cinnamon roll from the plate I’d just put out, she took a seat at the large rustic table, making it clear she wasn’t leaving until I spilled.
“It was just one night,” I clarified, trying not to imagine the horrified stares I’d no doubt be getting from my guests this morning.
My sister was right. I should have been more discreet, but I hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly.
Call it lust or pent-up need from far too long ago, I didn’t know, but I’d stormed into that yellow room with only one intention.
And I’d accomplished it in spades.
Now, I had to deal with the consequences, starting with my nosy sister.
“So, a booty call then? Nice,” she said, nodding her head, as she broke apart the roll into several bite-sized pieces. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I don’t,” I said. “I can’t really explain it, but it needed to happen. Now that it has, we can both move on.”
A snort escaped her pixie-like mouth. “Oh, honey”—she laughed—“I really thought you were smarter than this.”
I stopped what I was doing and leaned against the countertop, giving her my full attention. “What do you mean? I thought you told me to let loose and have a little fun.”
She nodded, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. The whole process made her look dainty and sophisticated. When I did the same thing, it resembled something closer to an animal being hosed off.
“I did,” she explained. “But I meant with someone you had no strings or previous attachments with. Someone you could bang and then sneak out the next morning, not caring if you ever saw him again. Jake is not that person for you, Molly.”
I folded my arms across my chest in defiance. “We talked it over beforehand. It wasn’t spontaneous. I knew what I was getting into and what it did and did not mean. I’m fine, Millie, really.”
Her eyes met mine, and I could see them round ever-so slightly around the edges before she forfeited her fight.
“Fine,” she said. “You’re a grown woman, and you obviously know what you’re doing. Now, come help me pack.”
The tension broke between us, causing me to nearly topple back from the force of it. If there was anyone on the planet who could see right through my bullshit, it was my little sister.
“I’ve got to serve breakfast but afterward?”
“Sure. I’ll go for a run first. Don’t get too busy though. I want some quality time with my big sister before I go.”
I shook my head. “You mean, you want me to pack your stuff before you go.”
“Well, sure, if you’re offering.” She shrugged, a sly grin stretched across her face.
“For a girl who travels for a living, it’s a wonder you don’t have this down to a science.”
“Maybe I do, and I’m just using this as an excuse,” she said before rising from the table.
I watched her saunter across the kitchen, cleaning off her plate and mug with a quick rinse before dropping them in the dishwasher. She hopped over in my direction and placed a sweet kiss on my cheek before running off toward the room adjacent to mine in the family wing.
Just as I saw the last wisp of her platinum-blonde hair disappear around the corner, I heard the first of the guest doors open.
Letting out a sigh, I muttered to myself, “Time for those consequences.”
Let the fun begin.
In the South, there were usually two ways a bad situation could go.
It could be ignored, and life would return to something close to normal with the added bonus of new gossip to talk about over iced tea on the porch. Or it could be attacked head-on, causing a scandal so great, you had no choice but to bury your head in the sand until it all blew over.
Knowing my guest had heard me in the throes of passion on multiple occasions had me hoping for option number one and a freaking miracle.
Thankfully, someone up there had heard my pleas, or maybe I’d somehow lucked out since I wasn’t quite sure how the whole prayers-for-help-when-you’d-had-super-loud-earth-shattering-sex thing went.
I somehow doubted that particular request was high on the priority list for the big guy upstairs.
I didn’t blame him.
Either way, I was breathing a sigh of relief by the end of breakfast and soon after when all three of my guests checked out, thanking me for a wonderful stay. I got a wink from one of the husbands, which I tried desperately hard to ignore.
But, all in all, I called it a win.
Wanting nothing more than to leave the pile of dishes in the sink and crawl back in bed, I, of course, did the exact opposite, forcing myself back into work mode for another hour. I scrubbed the kitchen, made snacks for my new arrivals that afternoon, and began the process of cleaning the upstairs.
I left the yellow room for last.
As I was hauling the remaining linens down to the first floor for washing, my sweaty sister made her reappearance through the front door.
“Man, it is a glorious day outside!” she declared. “Not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature is perfect.”
“You say that now. But come back in a month or two, and you’ll be wiping so much boob sweat, you could fill a pitcher.”
“That’s an image that will stick with you.” She laughed. “Besides, you forget where I live now. Florida is the land of year-round boob sweat.”
Her face was flushed, and her body was slick with sweat. On most people, the overall look would be less than ideal. For Millie, it was like she’d just walked onto a photo shoot for sportswear.
If she could ever settle down, she’d make some man out there incredibly happy.
“Meet me in Mom and Dad’s old room?” she asked, punching several buttons on her fancy watch.
“Sure. Let me just start these.”
“Okay, I’m going to hop in the shower. My suitcase will be waiting for you.” She smiled, heading off toward the family wing.
It didn’t take long to get the laundry started. The hard part was juggling all of it and navigating my way to the washer. I’d never understood why my parents had placed the laundry room all the way on the other side of the house, tucked away behind the kitchen, when it made perfect sense to place it near our personal bedrooms where no one could see it.
Maybe, one day, I’d ask them.
But, for now, I pressed a few buttons on the futuristic machine I’d had shipped in last year, replacing the ancient one my mom had been using since we were kids. This one was quiet and super efficient.
I’d done a small dance in the living room the day it arrived.
Probably something to keep to myself, I thought.
By the time I made it to the room my sister was occupying, I was dead tired. Scooting aside several of her designer clothes, I curled up with one of her pillows.
“Tired from all your lovemaking last night?” She snickered as the steam from the shower wafted in from the attached bathroom.
She pushed the door completely open, and I could smell her fruity shampoo—something she’d been using since high school. It was nice to know my super-sophisticated sister still clung to some of her roots even if it was just shampoo.
“Do you ever miss it here?” I asked, sitting up to lean against the headboard.
“Of course I do,” she said. “I’m not a robot. This is and will forever be my home, but right now, I need to stretch my legs and explore. We’re young only once, Mols. Don’t you ever want to travel? See other places, meet new people?”
“No,” I answered quickly.
Too quickly.
She gave me a hard stare as she took a seat next to me, still wrapped in a towel. Taking her time, she began the process of rubbing lotion over her legs and arms before responding, “There was once a girl I knew. Not nearly as spunky or pretty as her little sister, but wonderful just the same.”
I rolled my eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Or she chose not to.
“This little girl dreamed of faraway places, meeting exotic people, and eating everything under the sun.”
“That girl grew up,” I said. “She got a life.”
Turning her attention toward me, she set the lotion bottle down.
She didn’t have any makeup on, and I could see the scattering of freckles across her face. We’d once lain in bed, counting each other’s freckles, trying to see who had more. I’d won.
“You do,” she replied. “But is it the life you want, Molly?”
My face went blank. “You know I’ve always wanted the inn. It’s been my dream since we were little.”
A soft hand fell on my shoulder. “I know, but you’ve had other dreams, too. Don’t forget those.”
“It’s too late for those,” I said, looking away.
My gaze settled on an old photograph of my parents. I’d done little to this room since they moved out, choosing to stay in the smaller room I’d shared with Millie instead of moving.
Besides, the idea of it just never felt right.
This would always be their room.
It was still filled with their memories, things they’d left behind because of the small size of their new place. Or so they’d said. Maybe they just liked leaving a piece of themselves here.
Honestly, I didn’t mind.
“Did Mom and Dad ever tell you what they did before they had you?”
“No,” I replied. “But I guess I never asked.”
“Well, I did,” she said. “It was right around the time I was looking at colleges. I hadn’t told them I was considering something out of state, and I was terrified to tell them. So, I casually asked what they’d done before settling down. I admit, I’d never asked either. I’d just always assumed they’d gotten married, and they’d literally become a family the very next day because parents didn’t have sex, right? Immaculate conception.”
“Right,” I agreed, laughing.
“But, as it turned out, a baby didn’t fall from the sky the day after their wedding, like I’d imagined, and it was actually several years before you arrived.”
“Were they in college?”
“No—well, I mean, I think they did that before. I don’t know. I didn’t get the entire biography. But I did find out that our parents were quite the adventurers. Rather than buy a house and unpack all those small appliances and china settings they’d received from their wedding, they sold it all to a pawn shop and hit the road.”
“What?” I said, nearly choking on my own spit from the shock.
“I know, right? But it’s totally true. They traveled all over the United States, working in small kitchens, learning the trade, and they even made it all the way to Europe. They stayed in cheap motels and saved what they could. Our parents were nomads!”
“Wow, I always thought Mom had just learned everything from Grammy and Pop Pop like I did.”
“I’m sure she did, but they wanted to make their own mark, as much as you do. Don’t you see it? You’ve got to do the same. You need your nomadic time. I’m having mine. Mom and Dad had theirs. Now, it’s your chance.”
The whole idea sounded thrilling. Going where the wind took me, perfecting my skills as a baker, maybe even making it to France like I’d once hoped.
But it was nothing more than the dream of a girl, and as I’d reminded myself the night before, I was not that girl anymore.
“I can’t,” I said solemnly. “And, more than that, I don’t want to. You and Mom and Dad might have felt the need to get away, but I’m perfectly happy where I am. I know what I’m doing here.”
A sad look crossed her face as I rose from the bed and headed for the door.
“Then, I wish you all the best, Molly. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
That same photo I’d been staring at caught my eye once more. My parents’ faces were smiling back at me, their clothes dated and bleached of color from years of exposure. They were wrapped around each other, so young.
So carefree.
I wondered briefly where this photo had been taken. Colorado? California? Maybe even Rome?
My chest tightened.
“I have everything I need right here, in this house,” I said before fleeing.
A half an hour later, she left, a half-hearted hug and a promise to return for Christmas.
I took a deep breath and thanked God for the bond of sisterhood because, even though we were both upset with each other, we’d never let it get in the way of what truly mattered.
Because sisters were for life.
Life returned to something close to normal the days following my sister’s departure. New guests arrived and departed while I did my best to avoid thinking about that memorable night with Jake.
Unfortunately, my ankle still hadn’t healed, a consequence of my inability to follow directions from an overbearing albeit hot doctor, so literally every damn step I took was a constant reminder of him.
But I refused to see someone about it.
Particularly since the only doctor in town was the same man I was currently trying to avoid.
Life had been so much easier a few weeks ago.
But happier?
I wasn’t so sure.
What I was sure of was my dwindling supply of produce. I’d had a full house over the last few days, and I’d depleted nearly every fruit and veggie I had, fresh and otherwise.
This meant only one thing—a trip to Terri’s.
Jake’s next-door neighbor.
I let out a sigh, grabbing my purse from my dresser. Taking one last look in the mirror, I tucked my light-blonde hair behind my face, noticing a faint tan across the bridge of my nose and brow from weeding the garden earlier that day. I had to admit, it wasn’t half bad. The gray shorts and flowy top hugged my curves but not too tight. The floral shirt gave the slightest hint of cleavage without appearing too revealing.
My sister had dragged me out into town to one of the few places with clothes that didn’t have the words Ocracoke or Outer Banks written all over them and talked me into several new things. Although I’d stomped my feet and pouted, demanding we had completely opposite style preferences, I was actually enjoying what she’d picked out.
For once, glancing in the mirror, I didn’t look like a rushed maniac in three-year-old flip-flops and a messy topknot. I’d never taken stock in my appearance, always believing it was what you put out, what you did in this world, that truly mattered.
But I’d never thought about how my appearance affected that.
Before my guests arrived, sure, I’d clean up a little, but did I represent my business well enough? Surely, when Millie went in to visit clients, she was polished to a high-gloss shine, and her company expected no less.
So, why was I selling myself short?
My business deserved more.
Hell, I deserved more.
Feeling a new sense of purpose, I headed out the door, ready for anything.
Even if it meant running into a hot doctor along the way.
My newfound confidence died a little when I drove past the dull blue house. Since Jake had left, the once-vivid hue had faded into something sad and tragic.
It perfectly summed up the Jameson family.
Pulling into the gravel driveway, I turned to the right, giving the green car that was already parked there room to back out.
Terri was a busy woman.
I waited in my car, playing a game of solitaire, while she finished up with her client—a local restaurant owner who was avid over supporting local businesses. Terri’s small supply couldn’t keep up with his business but it was the thought that counted. She repaid him with frequent visits to his restaurant with, of course, plenty of suggestions regarding his recipes.
Once they were through, I gave a quick wave as he pulled away, and I headed for the door.
“Please tell me he didn’t take all the good stuff,” I said, placing my purse by the front door.
She closed the screen door behind me, leaving the heavy wooden one open to let in the spring breeze. It felt heavenly—something I’d miss when summer rolled around.
“Nah,” she muttered, leading me through the front foyer and toward the kitchen. “He just likes to come over and charm me, I think. He never buys more than a bag of corn most weeks.”
“Maybe he thinks you’re cute,” I said with a wink, laughing.
“Oh, hush yourself. That man is young enough to be my son!”
“He is not,” I replied. “He’s older than my daddy, which makes him nearly the same age as you!”
“Ah, well, what would he want an old broad like me for?” she said, making herself busy. She’d already pulled out two tall glasses and an ice-cold pitcher of sweet tea.
She never asked if you wanted some. She just served, and you were expected to drink it and the forty-seven cups of sugar she’d dumped in there.
“What do you mean, old broad? And what’s wrong? You look tired.” It was something I’d noticed since the moment she opened the door. It was subtle, a hand at her waist, as if she were covering a pain, bags under her eyes where there weren’t any before.
For once, she looked her age.
“Just a bit under the weather.”
Just a bit?
“Leave it to you to downplay everything. Do me a favor and visit Jake at the clinic. He’s there full-time now.”
She let out a laugh, still holding on to her side as she sat down in the seat next to me. We each took long sips of our tea, and I tried not to die from sugar shock.
“You and I both know that boy is not here full-time. He checked out a long time ago.”
My heart tightened. “I know,” I replied. “Has he been around?” I asked, my attention turning toward the house next to hers.
“No,” she answered. “Not since that first day I found him in the garden. I thought he was with you. Something happen?”
I bit my lip. “Let’s just say, we decided it wasn’t a good idea.”
A snicker fell from the old woman’s lips. “Was that before or after you rattled the bedposts?”
“What?” My eyes widened in shock.
“Oh, please. Do you think I’m dumb, young lady? Do you know how many times I saw you two making out in the back of his pickup when you were supposed to be studying at the school or running errands for your mama?”
My checks reddened.
“You’ve had it bad for each other for as long as anyone can remember. It was just a matter of time before you landed back in the sack like two horny teenagers again.”
“You’re quite the spy, Miss Terri,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I might be old, but I’m sharp as a tack. Always have been. That’s why I’m so disappointed in you for giving yourself to that boy after all he’s done.”
“I didn’t,” I said, protesting.
Her hand left her side, reaching out for mine. “He’s not going to stay, Molly. You know that, don’t you?”
I nodded sadly.
“Do you? Because I see you nodding your head, but I know you don’t believe it in your heart. I can see it in your eyes. You truly believe, somewhere deep inside, you can change his mind. But the thing is, that boy is broken. And, until he figures out a way to fix himself, ain’t no one gonna be enough. Not even you. Are you ready to chase after him? All the way to Chicago?”
I didn’t say much after that, the weight of her words settling around me like boulders.
Was she right?
Did I really think he was going to stay? That, somehow, in the eleventh hour, he’d change his mind, show up at my doorstep, and declare his everlasting love for me?
A single tear fell down my cheek as she bagged up a few of my usual things.
I did.
Dear God, I truly did.
She bid me good-bye, saving the usual banter for another time. She knew I’d seen the light, and it would take time to process.
Unfortunately, processing time would have to wait.
Because, the moment I stepped out of Terri’s, I came face-to-face with Jake.