“Is that a new song?”
Corbin stopped strumming and squinted at his father through the rays of sunshine streaming in through the late afternoon clouds. He’d been so focused on his music that he hadn’t heard his dad walk up to the porch.
“Yeah. Just something I’m working on.”
“It’s nice.”
“Thanks.” Corbin nodded toward the newspaper tucked under his arm. “Anything good in there?”
“Not really. You’re welcome to it.”
Samuel placed the paper next to his son’s guitar case, and Corbin nodded his thanks as his father sat down on the porch. For the next few minutes, he strummed mindlessly while Samuel gazed at the mountains in the distance. This new song wasn’t terrible, but the chord progression in the bridge was ridiculously complicated. Corbin knew he had nobody to blame but himself for that one.
“How are things at the bookstore?” Samuel asked.
“It’s fine.”
“Just fine?”
Actually, the bookstore was more than fine. Corbin hadn’t been that happy in years. Over the past week, he’d met, and became reacquainted with, so many friendly people. Some were old high school friends. Others were just long-time Riverview residents—people whose names he’d always heard growing up but had never had the pleasure of meeting. Jolie’s customers were devoted, and he’d realized quickly that their loyalty had less to do with the store itself and more to do with the owner. He’d watched throughout the week as Jolie unleashed her pretty smile on her customers, and more times than not, they would end up buying something, even if it was just a fifty-cent bookmark.
Jolie’s customers weren’t the only ones who had fallen victim to her charms. That smile of hers made Corbin want to go to work every day, despite the fact he was just part-time. He’d only been scheduled for three days that first week, but he’d been unable to stay away, making up one ridiculous excuse after another to show up even on his days off.
But today was Sunday. And the shop was closed.
“What’s on your mind, son?”
Her, like always.
“It’s nothing, Dad.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Corbin sighed. “Fine. But you can’t tell Mom.”
“Ah, so this is about a woman.”
Corbin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rocking chair. “I have no idea what I’m doing, Dad.”
“Hmm. Well, you’ve been in town for less than a month, so I’m assuming this woman is Jolie.”
“That would be correct.”
Samuel smiled. “I had a feeling this might happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“Jolie Daniels is an exceptional woman. Losing her mother at such a young age couldn’t have been easy, and yet, here she is. Running her own business. Grounded. Smart. Wise beyond her years. I bet the guys she dated in college didn’t give her a chance. Young men are hormonal creatures who only think with their—”
“I know, Dad.”
“I know you know,” Samuel said, chuckling. Then, his voice turned thoughtful. “Jolie’s very strong. But in many ways, she’s fragile, too. She needs someone just as grounded as she is. Someone who is settled.”
“Which completely rules me out.”
Samuel gazed at his son. “And that bothers you.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. A fact that made Corbin bow his head.
Yes, it bothered him. It bothered him a lot.
“You know, Corbin, even those hormonal boys grow up eventually. One day, they realize what they thought was important in life isn’t so important after all. Sometimes they find a reason to grow up. To settle down. They find a reason to stay.”
Samuel stood up from his chair and placed a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder. “You aren’t nearly as damaged as you think. Maybe it’s okay to give yourself the chance to explore the possibility.”
“What possibility?”
His father smiled.
“The possibility that you deserve to be happy, and the possibility that Jolie Daniels could be a very good reason to stay.”
Samuel walked inside the house, leaving his son there on the porch, more confused than ever.
Needing a distraction, Corbin placed his guitar in its case before reaching for the newspaper. Out of sheer habit, he flipped to the classifieds. Sure, he had a job, but if there was a listing for something full-time, he’d be crazy not to consider it.
“Garage sales . . . house for rent . . . land for sale.”
His eyes froze on the ad.
LAND FOR SALE. Eight acres cleared and ready for you to build. Call for more info.
Corbin pulled out his cell and took a picture of the ad. Of course, it was too expensive for him now, but a man needed a dream, and a plot of land was definitely a dream.
Excited, he decided to go for a drive to check it out. He recognized the address, so he took the two-lane road leading into town. Corbin drove another ten miles north until he reached the for sale sign that welcomed him to the deserted plot of land on Echo Point Road.
As he stepped out of the car, he braced himself for disappointment. It wasn’t like he could actually afford it. Not right now. Maybe not even this year.
But he was taking his father’s advice and exploring the possibilities.
There really wasn’t much to see. Just like the ad promised, the land was completely clear, except for the spruce trees that surrounded the vacant lot. Corbin walked across the dirt, making his way to the western edge of the property. He stopped short when he realized that he was standing on a ridge that overlooked the river.
In that moment, he fell in love with the land.
Corbin turned around and gazed at the cleared earth, letting his imagination run wild. It was easy to picture a house. Maybe even a cabin. So clearly, he could visualize the shutters on the windows, the shingles on the roof, the mailbox perched at the end of the driveway, and a pair of rocking chairs on the front porch.
Corbin could see it all.
And he wanted it.
But wanting it wasn’t the most frightening part of the scenario.
What scared him most was the fact that he’d pictured two chairs on that porch, and there was only one person in the world that he could imagine sitting in that rocking chair beside him.
The blare of the alarm clock jerked Jolie out of her restless sleep. She smacked it angrily before tossing the covers aside and heading to the shower. Monday’s typically suck, but sleep deprivation makes them a thousand times worse.
For Jolie, insomnia wasn’t even the real issue.
The dreams, however, were becoming a problem.
They weren’t bad dreams. In truth, they were fantastic. But they never failed to wake her up, and each time, she bolted up in bed . . . wide-eyed, heart racing, and all alone.
At first, the dreams had been innocent enough, full of heated glances across the store and stolen kisses between the shelves. But with each passing night, the dreams had become vivid and realistic and hot. Now, whenever Corbin followed her into the stockroom, Jolie fantasized about him pushing her back against the old bookshelves and ripping off her clothes.
Needless to say, that particular fantasy was making work a little difficult . . . and a good night’s sleep next to impossible.
Jolie knew she had to get a grip. Corbin was her friend, and he’d given no indication that he was looking for more. Plus, she was his boss now. She had to be professional. Despite her inner turmoil, however, Jolie couldn’t regret hiring him. He was hard working and amazingly tall—a trait she’d never considered important in an employee, but she couldn’t deny how much she loved not having to climb the ladder anymore. Most importantly, he was friendly with the customers, which was good since the shop was busier than normal these days.
Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of Corbin James.
After a quick breakfast, Jolie headed to the bookstore. She sang along with the radio as she drove, both nervous and excited to get to work. Corbin wouldn’t be there until later in the afternoon, but that didn’t matter. She might be a walking zombie, but she was happy and eager to have a great day.
And she would, just as long as Gavin Massey kept his ass out of her shop.
Jolie and Gavin had gone out when she first moved to town. It’d only taken one torturous dinner for her to realize that he was a total jerk who treasured his bank account more than anything else. After that first date, he’d stunned her with a diamond bracelet that probably cost more than her car. When she told him to return it—and declined his offer for a second date—Gavin accused her of being a tease. To protect his precious ego, Gavin told his buddies that he dumped her because she was bad in bed.
Jolie laughed it off . . . until her father heard the rumor.
She then found herself in the embarrassing predicament of having to reassure her father that she hadn’t slept with Gavin Massey. Then, she had to convince her dad not to shoot him. In return, she promised to never speak to him again.
But now, Gavin was making her life a living hell.
Gavin’s family owned most of Riverview. The medical clinic, the funeral home, and the high school football stadium were all built with his grandfather’s money. Once the recession hit, the Masseys stopped giving back to the community. Instead, they bought foreclosed homes and businesses, bulldozed them to the ground, and built something new and shiny in their place. Somehow, Gavin got his hands on her bookstore’s financial statements, and for the past few weeks, he’d been showing up in Jolie’s office and making offers for the store. She’d politely declined each time, but Gavin remained persistent, but never as persistent as he’d been on the morning of Corbin’s first day on the job.
“Nobody says no to me,” Gavin had spat from across the desk.
Jolie had heard that before. It was the same thing he’d said at the end of their one and only date.
Gavin Massey didn’t get what he wanted that night, either.
Turn the Page was struggling. The unpaid mortgage notices piled on her desk were proof. For months now, her mantra had been to just keep working, keep hoping, and keep smiling at her customers. Hiring Corbin had generated a lot of excitement, and for the first time in a long time, she might even turn a profit at the end of this month.
Jolie wasn’t an idiot. She knew one good month wouldn’t cut it. She needed a good year if she had any hopes of keeping her business afloat.
But no matter what, she’d die before she let Gavin Massey get his hands on her bookstore.
It was after six when they finally closed the shop. Corbin had spent the last hour convincing a teenage guitarist that he should listen to the lyrics of Justin Bieber’s Love Yourself before playing the song for his girlfriend. Corbin suggested more appropriate love songs and then showed the kid a sheet music app on his phone.
“You were very good with him,” Jolie said as she emptied the register.
“Thanks. I just couldn’t let him play that song for her.”
Jolie laughed. “Yeah, it’s definitely not a love song.”
Corbin walked around the counter to grab his jacket, accidentally brushing up against her. Her entire body trembled at his close proximity, and visions of her dreams flashed through her mind. She’d managed to ignore them all afternoon, but now the two of them were alone, and her mind was jumbled and tired.
And Corbin had just spent an hour with a kid who looked at him like he was a rock god.
Without thinking about the consequences, Jolie turned to face him, and what she saw made her gasp. Corbin’s eyes, deep brown and undeniably tortured, gazed down at her with so much sadness it made her heart hurt.
“Jolie, I . . .” his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the words.
She was so tired of it. Tired of trying to read his expressions. Tired of trying to figure him out. Tired of waiting for him to make the first move.
Boldly, she lifted her hand and stroked his cheek.
“Tell me,” she whispered. “Whatever it is that you want to say. I can take it, I swear.”
Corbin sighed heavily and closed his eyes, leaning his face into the touch of her hand.
“There’s so much I want to say to you,” he said softly. “I just . . . haven’t found the words yet. I promise I will. Just . . . please be patient with me. Okay?”
“I can do that. But please talk to me. I can see it. Every single time you look at me, I can see this battle that’s raging inside of you. I just wish I knew why.”
Corbin slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Their bodies were just barely touching, but it was enough to make Jolie’s blood boil and her heart pound wildly in her chest.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Jolie.”
“That makes two of us. But I bet we can figure it out.”
He smiled and leaned his forehead against hers.
“You’re really beautiful, you know.”
She bowed her head, but Corbin immediately placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face toward his.
“You are beautiful. Never doubt it.”
Corbin’s face was so close, and it would be easy to just stand on her tiptoes and kiss him. Just once. Just to get it out of her system. Just to see if the reality was even close to her dreams.
But he’d just asked for patience, so she slowly pulled herself out of his arms.
He sighed regretfully. “I should go.”
Jolie nodded.
“Please lock the door if you stay?”
She promised she would, and Corbin gave her one last smile before saying goodnight.