3. Jenna
JENNA
M iles parks his car in the alley behind the Washington Street Mall, right in front of a sign that reads NO PARKING ANYTIME .
He turns off the engine and looks my way.
“Let’s get something to eat and I’ll help you figure out a place to stay.
” He smiles, and I force myself to ignore the little flip my heart does when he reveals his dimple. “Come on, everything will be okay.”
I glance at the sign and arch an eyebrow. “Okay, but just so you know…you’re parked in a no-parking zone.” Normally, I’d insist on finding a place to stay first, clinging to the kind of control that a plan offers—but I’m starving and this stranger seems to know what I need most right now.
When he grins at me, he looks like a mischievous teenager. “I know the manager.” He winks. “Come on.” Throwing open his door, he walks around to mine, opening it at the same time I reach for the handle, taking me by surprise. Who is this guy?
I’ll admit, I’m warming to him. We might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t rescue me today.
Sure, I would have called a tow truck and a cab, then found a hotel, but it was really nice to have the support of a stranger.
I’m used to figuring things out on my own.
My dad died when I was nine, and after that, it was always just me and my mom, but she worked a lot.
I was a latchkey kid, and I had to fend for myself often .
It made me independent—and it made me adept at taking care of her when she needed it—but I forgot how nice it is to have help.
“Okay, I trust you. Lead the way, rule breaker,” I say, falling in step beside him.
Miles leads me out of the alley and into the Washington Street Mall.
It’s almost exactly as I remember, and on this Friday evening, the shops are bustling.
The town has the mall decorated for autumn with pumpkins, hay bales, and corn stalks throughout.
Twinkling lights adorn the trees, giving the walk a magical feel.
Miles stops in front of The Ugly Mug, a historic landmark restaurant that I remember from my childhood.
It was old even then. I make a mental note to look up when it opened.
Miles swings open the door and a few patrons look our way.
A group of guys at the corner of the bar erupt into cheers.
“There he is!” one shouts.
“We thought you ditched us,” another adds.
“But he’s coming in with a pretty lady, so maybe he is ditching us,” the first one says again.
“It’s after Labor Day, bro. No more vacationers.” The third guy shouts, laughing at his own joke.
Even though it’s clear his friends are teasing him, my face burns and I look at the floor.
“Shut up, you stiffs.” He pulls out a barstool for me, then takes the one closest to them. “This is Jenna. She’s an out-of-town client. ”
There’s no mistaking the emphasis on client —and for a fleeting moment I wonder what it might be like if I was more. Maybe Miles is just a kind guy, but he definitely lets his gaze linger a bit too long for someone I just met.
“Client, right. Maybe for now.” One of them laughs and elbows the guy next to him in a knowing way.
Miles groans, and if I’m not mistaken, his ears turn a little pink. Embarrassed? Maybe. “I shouldn’t even bother introducing you to these assholes,” he mumbles to me.
I raise my eyebrows and give him an amused smile, then, reaching across him, I hold out my hand to the nearest guy. “I’m Jenna,” I say confidently.
“Danny,” he says, taking my hand.
The middle guy takes a sip of his beer before answering. “Jack.”
I glance over at the quietest guy nursing a Corona as he watches the baseball game on TV. “Hi, I’m Jenna.” I speak directly to him.
He gives me a tight smile. “Liam.”
I can’t help but notice all these guys are wearing wedding rings.
Miles isn’t, though. At that thought, a spark of something flickers in my chest—Hope?
Curiosity? I force it back down. I don’t have time to self-analyze.
Suddenly, the bartender appears, saving me from inappropriate thoughts about the charismatic stranger perched next to me. What can I say? It’s been a while.
“Hey, Miles. Who’s your friend?” the pretty bartender asks.
Her strawberry blonde hair is clipped half back, and she wears tight black jeans and a short-sleeved V-neck shirt with the bar’s name on it.
A tattooed sleeve of hibiscus flowers winds down her arm.
On her other wrist, a single tattoo of a word I can’t make out.
“This is Jenna.” Miles motions toward me, his voice low. There’s a faint flush to his cheeks but he’s already brushed off his friends' teasing with the ease of a guy who doesn’t take himself too seriously.
“Miles is the property manager for my family home,” I add.
“We just met today when he caught me trying to break in.” I snicker, surprising myself.
There’s a glimmer of something—relief, maybe?
—that catches me off guard. Perhaps it’s the promise of food, or maybe just the sense of normalcy that comes with sitting in a bar with strangers.
Whatever it is, for the first time in a long time, I feel the tightness in my chest lessen ever so slightly.
It’s not gone, but I feel myself starting to relax.
“I’m Melanie.” She smiles. “Don’t pay any mind to these schmucks.” She gestures at the three married guys. “They like to give him a hard time, but really, they should be going home to their wives .” She rolls her eyes, and I instantly like her.
I laugh softly. “Okay.” I glance at Miles who seems a little more relaxed. Melanie puts a draft beer in front of him, and he immediately takes a sip.
“What can I get for you?” Melanie asks, leaning on the bar. “Then, you have to tell me what brings you to Cape May. It’s not often a lady joins these guys for happy hour.”
I hesitate, knowing my funds are tight and not knowing Miles’s intentions for this pit stop.. “Uh…I’ll just have what he’s having.” I gesture to Miles.
“Miller Lite? Okay.” She turns to grab it, giving me the opportunity to ask Miles some questions.
“So, you know everyone in this town, huh?” I squint at him curiously.
He laughs, completely unselfconscious, and my stomach does a little flip. “Well, I grew up here, and it’s a small town. Hence the phone call about a strange woman peeking in the windows of your house,” he says.
I nod slowly. “Gotcha.” Then, to the guys who seem to have already forgotten about us. “And you all live here too?” I ask, cocking my head in their direction.
“We all grew up here, on Perry Street,” says Jack, the guy in the middle. “We’ve known your boy here since he was six years old, scoring in the wrong soccer goal.”
“That was one time!” Miles protests. “I was learning.”
I laugh until my phone buzzes. I glance down and freeze. A reminder for Mom’s next doctor’s appointment—one I forgot to cancel. The air shifts. The lightness I was feeling evaporates
“Surfing is definitely more your sport,” Danny adds, and finally, Liam tears his eyes from the TV and laughs.
“Whatever.” Miles chuckles easily as Melanie sets my beer down.
“So, Jenna. Tell me about yourself, and I’ll tell you if you should steer clear of this guy.” She juts her thumb in Miles’s direction and laughs.
I inhale sharply and take a sip of my beer for courage. How much do I really want to share with these strangers? “Well, my mom died a few weeks ago…” I start.
Melanie cuts me off. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for my hand, squeezing it with an apologetic smile.
“It’s okay. She was sick for a long time.
” I shudder as I take a deep breath, then offer her a grim smile so she knows it’s okay.
“I lived with her in an apartment for the past few years so I could take care of her. And my parents bought our house in Cape May when I was a little girl…but when my dad died, I assumed my mom sold it. I didn’t even know we still owned it until last week.
So, since the apartment lease was up, I packed my things and headed East. Miles found me poking around the yard earlier. ” I shoot him a wry look.
Smirking, Melanie cocks her head in Miles' direction. “What a way to pick up a girl,” she says, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
I shake my head, and a nervous laugh escapes. “Oh…no. That’s not what this is.”
“That’s not what this is,” Miles reiterates, wincing and glancing sideways at me.
“Okay.” Melanie holds her hands up in defense, smiling as she backs away.
“Let me get you guys some menus.” She comes back a moment later and hands them to us.
Miles doesn’t even open his. “So, are you planning to live in it now?” she asks.
“We don’t get too many year-round newcomers.
” Cape May is a gorgeous Victorian beach town that draws tourists year after year, but in the off-season, things seem to be much quieter.
I lift my gaze from the menu. “I think I have to sell it,” I say, regretfully. “I lost my job, and I could really use the money.”
Miles flicks his gaze my way. “I don’t think it’s exactly in a livable condition right now,” he says. “I mean, maybe. But you’ll have some work to do before you can sell it. We can talk about that tomorrow.”
I sigh. “So much for a quick buck,” I mutter. Then, to Melanie, “Can I have the cheeseburger, please? Medium.”
“Make that two,” Miles chimes in, handing Melanie both of our menus.
Melanie taps on the computer kiosk, her nails clicking against the screen. “Got it. So where are you going to stay then?” Melanie asks me, but it is Miles she’s looking at with a raised eyebrow.
“Actually…I was thinking,” Miles cuts in. “Liam, is Ellie’s guesthouse open?”
Liam coughs and clears his throat. “I can ask her,” he says, picking up his phone and hammering out a text message.