Page 29 of Valentine's in Bayberry

“I think I should stick to computer software and let you do this stuff.” He walked farther into the space. “You do good work.”

“Thanks. Do you know what sort of business is going to move into here?”

Jackson rubbed the back of his neck as he continued to look around. It would be so easy to envision it as a jewelry store, a clothing boutique, or perhaps what it was in the beginning, a restaurant. He liked the thought of a small eatery, just like his grandparents had had for many years.

“I don’t know,” Jackson said.

Mark crossed his arms and leaned against an upright piece of lumber. “Have you ever considered keeping it for yourself?”

“Me? Here?” Jackson shook his head. He couldn’t believe his friend was suggesting that he give up the life he’d built for himself and move back to Bayberry.

Mark arched a brow. “Why are you so surprised by the idea?”

“Because my life isn’t here. It hasn’t been here in years.”

“But it could be again. Your family and friends are here.”

“But my work is in London.”

There was a pause before Mark said, “Carrie is here.”

Jackson’s gaze snapped toward him. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing that the whole town isn’t saying. When you two are together, the whole area around you becomes statically charged.”

Jackson glanced away as he shook his head. “It’s not like that.” He thought of the kiss the prior evening. It had been electrically charged…until Carrie shut him down. “We’re just friends.”

“Maybe you should try and change that before you run out of chances with her. After all, it’s the most romantic time of the year.” Before Jackson could respond, Mark walked away.

Jackson was left with his thoughts. The more time he spent in Bayberry, the more confused he got. There had been chemistry in the kiss. Carrie might not be willing to admit it, but it was there.

He inwardly groaned in frustration. Why did life have to be so complicated? Not so long ago, he knew what he wanted out of life. He had a five-year plan that included buying a house in London. He’d been saving for years. And to his relief, his investment portfolio had done exceedingly well. But was he willing to give up his plans for a real chance with the girl who got away?

He drove back to his mother’s house. He decided to see if there were any photos of the old restaurant. He climbed into the attic and dragged down a chest full of old stuff.

He settled in the living room and sifted through black-and-white photos of an era gone by. Some of the snapshots were of loved ones who had left this world when he was a young kid, but their memories lived on. In other photos, he didn’t recognize anyone. He checked the backs, but there were no notations of who was pictured in the photo.

Then he stumbled across photos of the family’s restaurant. As he studied them, he noticed the place had been well taken care of. He wondered how the building had fallen into such disrepair. It was a shame, too, because it looked like it was a very popular spot.

Buzz. Buzz.

It was probably his office—again. They’d woken him that morning at 4:00 a.m. with a question that they should have known the answer to. He should let this call go to voicemail.

And yet he found himself setting aside the photos in order to reach for his phone. To his surprise and relief, the call wasn’t from the office. Instead, it was Brittany Scott. His first instinct was not to answer it.

But she had helped him by including Totally Chocolate as part of Happy Hearts. With a resigned sigh, he pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello.”

“Hey, Jackson, it’s Brittany. I was wondering if I could stop by.”

Her request caught him by surprise. He glanced around at the mess he’d made while sorting through the photos. “Now isn’t a good time.”

“Oh, I see. How about lunch tomorrow?”

He wished it were Carrie calling to make these plans. “I don’t know.” Maybe it was best to let her down now. “I’m not really interested in dating right now.” Unless Carrie was to ask him out.

Brittany let out a giggle. “You thought I was asking you out?”

But she had asked him to lunch. Right? “Well...”

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