TWENTY-FOUR
The next weekend, Connor spent the day teaching a group of executives how to wield a sword. One of them had attended an event Connor held at Honeysuckle Park and raved about it, telling his friends how it would help them get ahead at work.
When Mellie told him how much to charge for the classes, he’d blanched, horrified at the amount, but she’d been right—not a single person blinked when he told them the cost, and as time passed, she noticed he no longer stumbled over the price.
Word traveled fast, and Connor was making really good money. Mellie worried that he would never get his memory back. What if he had a girlfriend in Scotland and didn’t remember her, and then one day his memory came back and he left her to go back to his first love? Not that she loved him…she was helping him out. He wasn’t the right guy for her. Mellie had decided she wanted someone calm, like Greg was, but nicer. Not a guy who made her insides squishy and her world tilt whenever he was around.
Four a.m. came. He kissed her goodbye, whistling as he got ready to leave. Ever since that first night, they’d slept in the same bed after she woke to hear him calling out in his sleep on the sofa. He’d only settled when he pulled her close. After that, if he didn’t sleep next to her, he had nightmares of being locked up and never seeing the outdoors again.
Mellie liked falling asleep with his arms around her, listening to his heartbeat and waking up to those gorgeous eyes. Nothing further had happened—she wanted to take things slow, and he’d made the comment she was the kind of woman a man “took to wife,” not some wench he tumbled, never to see again.
Then he’d tease her and say she must beg him to kiss her, as that was their agreement. That was when she’d hit him with a pillow. The man made her laugh until she cried. The way he mixed up terms and used archaic words—was it because he was from Scotland, or part of the memory loss?
Mellie was close to getting over Greg. Once she was completely over him and sure Connor was the one, she’d take things further.
With Connor gone for the day, she spent the entire morning working on her Everyday Moments series, as she’d come to call her women. A final dot of blue on the woman’s dress and the piece was finished. In this house, the woman sat outside in a tiny garden behind the house, reading. It was an homage to her favorite painting at the museum, though she’d updated the woman. In her piece, the woman was barefoot, as were all her women. This one had painted toenails—a robin’s-egg blue—and was wearing sunglasses and a red gingham sundress, her hair in a ponytail as she sprawled in a chair, legs over the arm.
This piece wasn’t too bad. The illusion of movement could have been better, but she was improving. And this house might be her favorite yet.
But not good enough for the gallery, whispered her inner critic.
“Shut up,” Mellie retorted as she cleaned the brushes and workspace. The house sat on the table to dry as she turned off the lights and carefully locked the door.
That afternoon, knowing Connor wouldn’t be back until dark, Mellie wandered around the harbor, meandering down the cobblestone streets, popping into her favorite shops. A lunch consisting of a lobster roll from a food truck and an icy-cold tea kept her full as she enjoyed the sun, feeling the heat soak into her bones.
There was a small park with fountains and benches she adored, a place she and Greg used to spend time people-watching. Her favorite gelato cart was doing a brisk business today.
“Cara, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. Chocolate today?”
“I’ve missed you too, Mario. You know, I think I’ll try something different. Change is good, right?”
He grinned. “Yes, bella. How about lemon?”
“Lemon sounds perfect.”
He gave her extra and waved her away when she tried to pay. “No, your beautiful smile is payment enough.”
Mario had been married for thirty years, with five kids, and yet he flirted shamelessly with every female customer, no matter how young or old. Mellie adored him.
“Thank you.” She took a taste and groaned in pleasure. It was perfect, maybe a new favorite. She’d have to bring Connor here. He’d love trying all the different flavors.
A prime bench opened up, and she grabbed it, stretching out her legs, glad she’d worn her favorite red shorts and t-shirt proclaiming, I read past my bedtime. The sun made her sleepy as she finished the gelato and people-watched.
The laugh woke her as if from a nightmare.
“Melissa? Is that you? Look, honey, it’s old Melissa. Wow, you’ve been enjoying the good life. I wish I could eat like you and not care what I looked like. Good for you.”
She opened her eyes to see the perfect couple, Melinda and Greg. They were holding hands and wore matching outfits of khaki shorts and yellow shirts.
“Hi, Mellie.” Greg gave her an awkward hug.
She’d opened her mouth to say hello when the sparkle on Melinda’s left hand made her mouth drop open.
Melinda smiled and waved the ring around. “Isn’t it beautiful? Greg proposed at the most adorable bed and breakfast down on the Eastern Shore.”
“Congratulations.” Mellie knew exactly where it was—it was a place she’d picked out, where she and Greg were going to spend Memorial weekend. As Melinda droned on and on, Mellie had the sinking feeling the witch had taken every idea Mellie had on her Pinterest board and was using them to plan her wedding. Figured. So she not only stole men, but ideas as well. Mellie decided she should have made the board secret.
Melinda took a phone call, and Greg stepped closer to Mellie, touching her arm. “It was really nice to see you.”
“I have to go.” Mellie jumped back, heart pounding.
She was such a coward. Over and over she and Amy had planned what Mellie would say if she ever ran into the two of them, and when the time came, she couldn’t get the words out. Instead she was focused on holding back tears. On the walk home, she let them fall, her sunglasses hiding the wetness.
When Connor came home, Mellie pretended to be asleep. Normally she woke up and he climbed in bed, they ate ice cream, and he told her all about his class. But not tonight. She kept still, focused on keeping her breathing even as he slid under the sheets and threw an arm around her. Why did he have to make her feel so much? Why couldn’t he be like her ex? So much emotion coursing through her all the time was exhausting.