Page 61 of Stony Point Summer
Again, he nods. “Because it’ll be a mess. You, me and Kyle. Damn it. If I only knew before you got engaged.”
“Knewwhat, Neil? What?”
He gives a short laugh. And pauses as they carefully watch each other. “I wanted to tell you after I took you to that old fishing shack the other day. Out past Little Beach. When we, you know …” He leans close and talks softly right in her ear. “When we were on the cot?”
Her face flushes when he says it. And she glances away, then quickly back at him. “Tell me what?”
“That I love you, Lauren Smith.”
“Neil.” She shakes her head and swipes away a tear. “Come on. Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Like shit I am.” He touches her face. “But I don’t know how to get this to work now,” he goes on, motioning his hand between them. “I mean, Kyle. Hell, he’s all right. You know. And I never meant for this—”
“Shh.” Lauren puts a finger on Neil’s lips. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Lauren?” the woman from the register calls over. “Finding everything okay?”
Lauren nods, her eyes still moist. “Oh. Yes.” She leans aside and finger-waves down the next aisle. “Yes. We’re all set here,” she calls back before turning to Neil silently waiting. “You really have to go,” she whispers.
“Okay.” They both take a step—before Neil stops her. “And I’m never teasing you. Or fooling. Or messing around with your head. Everything I say to you? I mean it, Lauren. Including this.” He leans in and kisses her once more. “Love you,” he whispers before checking his watch again. “Shit, got to fly. Jason’s waiting,” he quietly says before taking quick strides toward the register—looking once over his shoulder at Lauren standing there, watching him go. Neil pays cash for the journal and trots out to Jason’s truck right as he’s pulling out of the parking space.
* * *
“Hey! Hold on,” Neil yells, running to catch up now.
Jason does, slowing just enough for Neil to jump into the moving vehicle. Winded, he hoists himself in the passenger side, closes the door and looks out the window at the bookstore growing smaller behind them. A few minutes later, two or three, he opens that rawhide-entwined brown leather journal clutched in his hands. He turns the cover and drags a hand over the first page.
“You get what you needed back there?” Jason asks.
Neil glances from the journal to his brother. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. Got a pen?”
“In the glove box.”
Neil digs out a plastic ballpoint, clicks it and sets the pen tip to the first journal page. His chest rises with his breathing. His moppy hair is slightly disheveled. After glancing back toward the bookstore where he just told Lauren he loves her, he does it. In his slanted cursive, Neil carefully writes out the early June date across the top of that first page. Writes it out, underlines it, looks at it, then closes the journal and puts the pen away.
twenty-three
— Now —
CAKE PANS? REALLY? MITCH FENWICK needs …cake pans?
Well, if there’s anything Elsa DeLuca’s learned in all her livelong life, it’s this: Expect the unexpected. Because minutes later, she’s digging in her kitchen drawers for, yes, cake pans. Who could’ve guessed the day of her inn’s grand opening would begin like this?
It’s a common occurrence lately—her being on the receiving end of the unexpected. Starting with thatunexpectedcertified letter landing on her doorstep this past Monday. A letter that turned her life on end. She still reels from its news, when she lets herself even think about it.
Then there’s Wednesday night’s business date with Mitch Fenwick at the Dockside Diner. If you’d call it business, the way it ended with anunexpectedround of shagging beneath the stars, followed by a sublime summer kiss when the dancing slowed. She smiles, remembering how Mitch’s hands held her face when he leaned in close, and well …
And now this. A text message asking anunexpectedfavor. Asking for cake pans!
“But that’s all it is. A simple favor,” she convinces herself while spritzing her herb pots in the kitchen. She tells herself thatagainwhile having orange juice and a slice of muffin at her marble-top island, then taking a quick shower. “A favor for a new friend,” she insists.
There’s just enough time to do this, fitting in a visit with Mitch before Celia arrives for their planned breakfast.
IfElsa hurries.
