Page 4 of Shades of You

“Thanks. There’s nothing like a good book to kick off the week.” I smiled back at her, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Michelle was a regular, her presence asmuch a part of the store as the weathered armchairs and stacks of bestsellers.

“Have you heard the latest?” she asked nonchalantly, picking up a novel with a beach on the cover. “Hunter Markham is back in town.”

My hand paused mid-air. The atmosphere shifted slightly, as if the mention of Hunter’s name had stirred something invisible. “Is he?” I kept my voice even, feigning a casual interest that my racing heart betrayed.

Michelle, oblivious to the history that clung to that name, continued. “Yep. Supposedly, he bought a place on Main Street not far from here, but I’m not sure which. Could be interesting, don’t you think?” Her eyes sparkled with the allure of fresh gossip.

A two-story building three down from mine had recently undergone renovations, but I hadn’t investigated the new business, except to note it was some sort of security firm. “Interesting for sure,” I agreed.

“Didn’t you know him way back when?”

“Kind of,” I hedged. Hunter and I had been close once upon a time, before life took us down divergent paths. “We hung out back in high school, but I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Maybe he’s planning to open a business or something. I wonder what kind. Another Markham would liven things up around here.” Then she sighed. “After his rift with Evan, I wonder if he wasn’t welcome on Calypso Key.”

“Maybe.” My curiosity was piqued despite my reservations. Could Hunter really be back?

“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it.” Michelle gave me a friendly wave as she strolled toward the door. “I’m still working through my TBR pile. I swear you’ve become my dealer!”

“See you later.” Laughing, I called after her, my gaze lingering on the doorway.

After Michelle disappeared, I reached for a stack of brightly covered paperbacks, my hands mechanically adjusting their arrangement on the display table. But my thoughts were far from the task at hand.

Hunter Markham.

The name echoed in my mind like a song from another life. We used to share secrets between the stacks of the library, dreams scribbled on the margins of our notebooks. He had been my confidant, my partner in literary crimes. But school had been over a decade ago. Uncounted rumors had swirled around Dove Key about Hunter in the years since. Unsettling stories from far-off lands about a man, not a boy.

With an impatient huff, I straightened a row of contemporary romances. A gossipy rumor was hardly confirmation, and I had plenty else to occupy my thoughts. Like my family. A pang of concern wound its way through me. Siesta Sunset, the resort my family had poured generations of heart and soul into, was hanging on by its metaphorical fingernails. Part of me felt the weight of responsibility, a constant reminder that I needed to do more. Though I had elected a different path as a Coleridge, that didn’t mean guilt didn’t gnaw at me occasionally. But I also had my own business to run.

There were displays to organize, recommendations to make, and a book club meeting to prepare for. Yet, in this quiet moment of reflection, I couldn’t shake the worry for my family’s legacy. With a deep breath, I banished thoughts of struggling finances and old flames. I needed to concentrate onthe present.

Dove Key was my home, Bookstore in Paradise my sanctuary.

The next time the door opened, I was placing an order. My brother, Ben, pushed through, a gust of tropical air sneaking in behind him. His light-brown hair was mussed from working outside, his skin bronzed and lightly freckled across the bridge of his straight nose—a testament to the long hours he’d been putting in under the sun. The image sharply contrasted the man who had once been more interested in living life by the seat of his pants than shouldering responsibility.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice carrying over the quiet hum of the bookstore.

“Ben! What brings you here?” I stepped from behind the counter.

“Needed a break from the resort.” He wore an easy smile, though I caught a glimpse of weariness in his eyes he couldn’t quite mask.

“You look tired. Let’s have a seat.” Concern laced my words as I led him over to the cozy reading nook nestled near the front picture window.

“Ah, just the usual grind.” He brushed off my concern, sinking into the plush burgundy armchair across from me. “Glad to be done with the job at Calypso Key, though.”

“I’m sure you are,” I said hesitantly, not wanting to dredge trouble but needing to address the obvious. “It can’t have been enjoyable to be called a thief.”

Ben’s jaw set, a shadow passing over his features. “It wasn’t. You know how the Markhams can be.”

I shifted to face him more directly. “Didn’t you say that Stella apologized to you?”

He looked at me, surprise flickering in his expression before it softened. “She did. Took me aback, honestly.”

“Maybe it’s a sign,” I suggested, warming to one of my other favorite subjects. “A sign to end this feud between our families. It’s old news, Ben. We could move past it.”

“Yeah, right.” He leaned back with a snort.

“The two families have held onto this animosity for too long. It’s past time we find some common ground.”

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