Page 8 of Come Back to Me

“You don’t even know him,” Nettie mutters from where she stands on a step stool.

Her mama is pinning the layers of her wedding gown so she can hem them. It’s only four days before Nettie’s wedding, and it’s not lost on me how last-minute this is. What if her mama ruins the dress? There’s only one formal wear shop in Maple Ridge, and their styles aren’t necessarily what I’d callin style.

My gaze drifts to Nettie’s mama, but she’s clearly not paying attention to our conversation as she holds layers of fabric in her hands and has pins sticking between her pressed lips.

“I have a good feeling about him,” I finally say when I look back up at Nettie, and I push my long hair off my bare shoulder.

Nettie rolls her eyes but smiles. “You’ve always been the risk taker out of the two of us.”

“This hardly seems like a risk. Nettie, I’m going to finally buy the cabin.” Just saying the words aloud causes my chest to fill with flighty butterflies.

“Yeah…and share it with someone else.” The reminder only slightly deflates my mood.

“Only for one summer. After that, it will be all mine.”

“Is that what you agreed on?”

We didn’t delve into all the details of how this would actually work. I’ve been so starry-eyed over the idea of it, I suppose I hadn’t thought about the logistics. “We’re meeting tonight for dinner to discuss the details before going to the bank tomorrow and putting in our offer.”

“Dinner?” A sly grin spreads on her lips.

Shrugging my shoulder, I say nonchalantly, “Shit, Nettie, it’s just dinner.”

“Language, Giana,” Nettie’s mama hisses.

I cringe and apologize before I go right into ignoring her again. “We’re adults. We can differentiate business from pleasure.”

Nettie’s brows waggle suggestively. “Yeah, but I’ll bet you wouldn’t mind mixing a little pleasure with your business.”

“Nettie Anne Baker,” her mama scolds again and stands, flattening the front of her dress. “We’re done here. Be quick about getting out of that thing, and be careful not to mess up all my work.” She shoots me a subtle frown as she passes me before going out of the room.

I know she thinks I’m a bad influence on Nettie, but if she only knew the scandalous things her daughter has done, she’d be pointing those disapproving frowns in another direction.

“Help me outta this thing, will you?”

Gathering all the layers of tulle and fabric, I pull as Nettie wriggles out the opening of the dress, maneuvering her shoulders without disturbing any pins. I lay the dress on her bed while she throws on a short-sleeved blouse and a pair of shorts.

My mind circles back to the night before and the intense kiss Leo and I shared. Spilling my guts to Nettie is one of my favorite pastimes. But this time, I want to keep it to myself for a bit longer. There’s something about holding onto this secret that makes it feel that much more special.

“Guess we’ll have to see what happens.” I sit on Nettie’s bed next to her wedding gown, being careful not to muss the fabric.

Nettie leans into her bureau, and I watch her reflection in the mirror as she paints her lips red. “We both know you two won’t be able to keep your hands off each other after being holed up together in that cabin all summer.” She winks at me.

Little does she know, the summer hasn’t even begun, and we already can’t keep our hands off one another. There’s a buzzing inside me even as I sit in Nettie’s room, just thinking about Leo. Anticipation wooshes from my head to my core as I count down the hours until dinner. And as silly as it sounds, count down the hours until our next kiss.

“Would that be such a terrible thing?” I trace the outline of an embroidered flower on Nettie’s quilt with my fingertip.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, is all. Ya know, when he goes back home at the end of summer.”

“Ifhe goes back home,” I say.

I glance up, and Nettie has already spun around and is looking at me. She crosses her arms and leans against her bureau. “See. This is what I’m afraid of. You’re already getting your hopes up.”

“Am not. All I’m saying is, after a summer in Maple Ridge, he may find it hard to go back home. Maple is charming. It has a way of luring people in and making it so they never want to leave.” I shrug. “Happened to my parents. Happened to Mr. Mel. He came here to ski one winter, met Lila, and the following spring, he moved here, married Lila, and bought the grocery store.”

“You’re right. Maple Ridge does have a way of getting under people’s skin.” But the concerned look she gives me says she’s not in agreement. She’s worried I’m about to make a colossal mistake.

And maybe I am.

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