Page 21 of Her Hometown Man
Case frowned. Being like brothers was one thing. Lane being able to read his mind was quite another. He shook his head, because he wanted to dismiss his cousin’s words, but he didn’t want to verbalize an outright lie and deny it.
“Trust me,” Lane continued. “If a woman doesn’t want to settle down here, you can’t make her. She’d just be unhappy anyway, and eventually it would all fall apart.”
Case didn’t say anything right away because he knew this wasn’t just about Gwen anymore. Lane and Evie had planned to leave Stonefield and travel after they got married. Maybe they’d return to town to settle down or maybe they’d find someplace they’d like better, but they were going to see what was out there.
Then Lane’s dad had passed away and Lane was left with a mother who was not only grieving, but drew her income from helping out D&T Tree Service by manning the phone and doing paperwork. Case’s dad would never have left his sister-in-law to fend for herself, but Lane wasn’t one to shirk responsibility, so he took over his father’s place in the company. Months passed and they settled into a life that Evie hadn’t chosen for herself—a life she didn’t want. She left Stonefield without him.
Lane definitely had good reason to believe a man who intended to stay in his hometown getting involved with a woman who wanted to leave it was a really bad idea.
Case would just have to keep his expectations in check. Yes, he’d been increasingly aware over the last several years that he’d really like to meet a woman who he’d want to spend the rest of his life with, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a fling while he waited. There had to be a woman out there he’d want as much as he wanted Gwen Sutton.
Maybe. Somewhere.
And then she stepped out onto the porch of the Sutton house, and suddenly it didn’t seem at all likely there was another woman out there who’d have her effect on his heart rate.
Gwen glanced over at them and she was too far away for eye contact, but he knew she was looking at him. After a few seconds, she waved, and then she went down the steps and started toward the carriage house. He was content to watch her walk until his cousin’s voice ruined the moment.
“I can’t wait to hear what excuse you’re going to come up with for having an urgent need to go over to the carriage house and talk to her.”
He’d actually been trying to come up with one, but there was no way he’d admit that to Lane. “You’re just hoping to get out of the rest of this meeting, and that’s not going to happen.”
Though he managed to get through the rest of the information they needed to go over and finalize their schedule for the following week, he kept those neck muscles nice and limber by looking up from his laptop very frequently.
Fifteen minutes after she went to the carriage house, Gwen left it and walked back to the main house. She did glance over and give a little wave, but then she disappeared inside and he found himself wondering what she’d gone to the carriage house for. Was she checking on something? Getting a measurement?
Or had she been hoping he’d see her and join her there? Right now, short of her walking across the street and into his house, it was the only place they could be alone. And he didn’t think Gwen was resigned enough to the inevitability of their kissing again to show up on his doorstep.
“You know,” Lane said, “when you said things were about to get interesting the night Gwen and Evie got back to town, I thought you meant because of Evie and me.”
“I did.”
“Maybe you did at the time, but I have a feeling you and Gwen are going to be alotmore interesting than me and my ex-wife.”
Case couldn’t hold back the grin as he looked over at his cousin. “I certainly hope so.”
Chapter Seven
With regard to donating books to the library’s Old Home Day sale, please note they will not accept books that would have been discarded from their collection before you were born. For instance, if a parenting how-to book says it’s perfectly fine to shove six kids in the back of a station wagon, you should probably throw it away.
—Stonefield GazetteFacebook Page
Gwen parked as close to the front door of Sutton’s Seconds as she could get, so she wouldn’t have to walk down the main street and get accused of doing who-knew-what to who-knew-who in her books. She would rather have been in her rocking chair, working on hernextbook, but one did not ignore a text message from one’s mother. Her visit today was by order of maternal command.
Some of her annoyance at being summoned dissipated as she looked up at the Sutton’s Seconds sign over the door and massive window. Behind the glass was a summer display, filled with items people would want as the kids started their break.
She’d spent so much time here growing up, it was almost an extension ofhomein her mind. There was a room in the back that served for sorting and pricing items, or for stashing things that needed cleaning or repair. But it also had a small table and chairs, and back in the day, a futon. She wasn’t sure if the futon was still there, but she had clear memories of being tucked in on it with a blanket and some books when she was too sick to go to school, but not sick enough for her mom to close the shop for the day.
All three of the girls had worked there—starting in middle school since the labor laws didn’t really apply to your own kids—until they got old enough to find jobs that didn’t include their mother being their boss. Working in Sutton’s Seconds had been Gwen’s favorite job, though. It wasn’t exactly demanding work, so she’d had plenty of time to daydream and make up stories in her head. Eventually she’d started scribbling those stories in cheap spiral notebooks. Now she had a custom journal cover with her name embossed in the leather—bought because the leather looked and smelled like her father’s journal—but stepping through the thrift store doors made her feel like that story-loving girl again, and she smiled. This was where her career had been born.
Maybe she should bring her laptop here and hide at the table in the back room and see if that helped her get words on the screen. The words had been flowing, but then the urgency of the logo situation had proven to be an interruption—or series of interruptions, really—that she couldn’t bounce back from.
In order to have a finished logo in time to show it off at Old Home Day, they needed to rush a concept to the designer who did most of the graphics for Gwen’s book promotion. Lane had texted them a page from her father’s journal, and seeing her dad’s handwriting had really taken a toll on her creativity. Then there was a lengthy text chain while they decided which of the three concepts the designer sent best brought David’s logo to life.
Now it was official. The wordsSutton’s Place Brewery & Tavernagainst the backdrop of a field with three lupines—one of Ellen’s favorite flowers for each of his daughters. But it had been a lot, both emotionally and in terms of time, and the words had dried up.
“Gwen!” Ellen’s face lit up with joy when she saw her. “Mallory, your sister’s here.”
Her sister emerged from the children’s clothing section, not as thrilled to see her as their mom had been, but at least she was smiling. “Oh good, you’re here. We’ve gotten two more copies in since Mom messaged you.”
