Chapter Three
Caroline
I’m deep in wedding planning, sifting through the vendors and new details that Maggie and I discussed last night.
Blue Alder Cove shops should cover most of them, but there are a few things I may have to take care of in the city.
Luckily, I’ve been doing this for such a long time that I have several contacts and a few favors I can call in, if needed, so I’m not worried one bit.
This wedding is going to be exactly what Maggie and Jake envision.
Maggie walks into the living room, her laptop balanced in one hand, a smile tugging at her lips. “Jake and I have something we’ve been working on,” she says, setting it down on the coffee table next to mine.
The screen displays blueprints for an intricate archway, which is both rustic and elegant.
“It’s beautiful. Are you building it yourselves?”
She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes. We thought it would be a fun project and something that represents our story.”
And what a story they have.
The grumpy handyman meets the sweet widow and renovates her late husband’s lake house.
Maggie got a phone call one day saying a storm blew through, and the lake house was damaged.
The same house her late husband, Steven, purchased as a retirement gift for them.
So she came here to Blue Alder Cove to renovate it, and Jake, being the town handyman and neighbor, came to her rescue.
They fell in love, and now, she gets her second chance at love.
Her first husband, Steven, was a wonderful man.
He had such a big heart and loved her well. And I know Jake will do the same.
“Let’s just hope I’ve learned enough while renovating this place that the real thing will turn out just as good.” Maggie lightly chuckles.
“Knowing you two, it’ll be even better!” I squeeze her arm reassuringly.
I study my best friend’s face, her eyes sparkling with excitement and a hint of nervousness.
It takes me back to the first time our trio met during Tuesday morning mommy-and-me sessions.
Maggie holding Matthew on her hip, Lila cradling her twins, Finn and Jasper, and me desperately trying to soothe colicky Emilie.
Three exhausted women who found each other amid burp clothes and diaper bags.
We instantly clicked over the chaos and beauty of motherhood and have been best friends ever since.
Jake walks in, a yellow carpenter pencil tucked behind his ear. “Ready, Mags?”
“I think that’s my cue to leave you two lovebirds to your work,” I say, shutting my laptop with a click and rising from the sofa. “I’ll head into town and handle some vendor tasks while you two focus on bringing this beautiful archway to life.”
Maggie’s forehead creases with concern. “Are you sure? I can run errands with you, Care, and work on this later.”
“Don’t you worry! This is what I do, remember?” I wink. “Making this wedding perfect is my primary mission. I’ve got this stuff.”
I gather my leather-bound planner and color-coded to-do list and place them in my tote bag. While I walk to my car, my phone pings with a text alert. The screen illuminates, and my stomach flutters.
Tom
Need a caffeine fix? *coffee emoji*
I push down the fluttering feeling, willing it to go away. My fingers dance across the screen, typing out a quick response.
Me
Already had one this morning, thanks.
Tom
That was this morning. What about your afternoon cup?
Well, shoot. That backfired. I bite my lower lip. I hate that I let him know about my two-cups-a-day habit during one of our calls. Such a small, throwaway detail I shared sometime in the last six months.
Me
I have errands to run. I don’t think I’ll have time.
Tom
I’m happy to meet you. Where to first?
I pause, letting out a sigh that forms a small cloud in the chilly air.
I like Tom. A lot more than I should. I’ll be the first to admit it.
He’s sweet, kind, and makes me laugh. But what happens when I have to go back to my real life in the city?
Long-distance relationships don’t have the best track record.
Plus, my dating life has been failing with a capital F.
Scratch that, all capitals. FAILING. It’s a disaster.
My marriage crashed and burned, and every man I’ve even considered dating, it’s all gone up in smoke.
I shake my head, bringing myself back to the current topic. I reread his message.
Me
Lakeside Haven Inn. 10 minutes.
Tom
See you soon, Red.
I will my heart to stay at its current pace and my lips to stay put, but my heart pitter-patters happily, and my lips turn into a smile at the thought of seeing him. Traitors.
I take the short drive to the Lakeside Haven Inn and adjust the mirror to catch my reflection. I reapply my favorite red lipstick, then step out of the car. There he stands, steam rising from two cups clutched in his hands.
As I approach, the scent of espresso drifts toward me. He extends the cup in his left hand with a smirk. “Caramel Macchiato, extra whipped cream, just as you like it.”
“You memorized my coffee order?” I ask, my fingers brushing his as I take the warm cup.
He shrugs it off, like it’s not the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.
Preston, my ex, while not a cruel man (just a dumb one, at least in the romantic sense), was not one to think of the little, personable things.
It was always the bigger, the grander. While yes, being treated to fancy, luxurious items was nice, I wished that, just for once, he would bring me my favorite snack or coffee instead of buying me a diamond necklace that was more for his ego than his care for me.
“Thanks, Tom. That’s really sweet of you.” My voice comes out softer than I intended.
Welp, defenses are down, and I’ve been in his presence for a matter of seconds. Great. I just hit a new personal record of weakness.
“You’re welcome.” He takes a slow sip from his cup, his warm, brown eyes never leaving mine.
I feel my cheeks flush hot as cinnamon candy under his gaze and quickly look away. “Stop number one.” I nod toward the inn and begin walking up the steps.
Tom rushes past me and pulls open the heavy oak door with one hand. He smiles, one that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
“Such a gentleman,” I tease, stepping into the lobby.
With a chuckle, he retorts, “Just a part of that small-town charm you’re getting used to.”
I don’t know about getting used to it, per se.
I’m a city girl to my core. People rushing by (rather than leisurely walking as they do here) and grabbing a latte from a brand-name shop (rather than the diner).
Grabbing brunch with the girls and, of course, all my favorite shops within a reasonable distance.
This small town, while cute, only has so much to offer.
Tom leans his elbow onto the desk, sipping his coffee.
His strong, calloused fingers wrap around the paper cup, steam rising to caress his stubbled jaw.
How could watching a man drink from a paper cup be so captivating?
I guess when he looks like that, it makes sense.
Like he just stepped onto a photo shoot for small-town, rugged firemen with a crooked smile. He’d be on the cover of the magazine.
“Caroline!” Mrs. Maddox comes in from the back room, her weathered face lighting up. “Good to see you, dear. It’s been too long.”
“Just a little more than a month since I was here last. But I did miss it and everyone here.”
Tom catches my eye, dramatically raising one thick eyebrow while pointing at himself, questioning me.
I roll my eyes and redirect my attention to Mrs. Maddox.
“Let’s work on those arrangements for Maggie and Jake’s wedding guests, shall we?” she says, patting a reservation book tucked under her arm. “Let’s sit in the living room by the fire. That cold front is unwelcome, in my opinion.”
“I agree, especially if I have to run errands in it. I’d rather be at home, curled up, watching a movie with hot chocolate.”
Mrs. Maddox leads us through the quaint lobby past a wall of bookshelves.
“Now, that sounds like a perfect day to me,” Tom whispers, his warm breath tickling my ear as he follows close behind me.
I turn my head to whisper back, our faces inches apart. “I didn’t peg you as the curl-up-by-the-fire kind of guy, Firefighter.”
He chuckles, the sound low and rich. “There’s still a lot you don’t know about me, Caroline.”
And every second more we spend together, deep down inside, I want to know everything about him. Every single one of his secrets, layer by fascinating layer.
I’m about to respond, but Mrs. Maddox interrupts us, ushering us into the cozy living area with a crackling fire.
Crimson and pink paper hearts dangle from satin ribbon across the mantle, and heart-shaped chocolates in foil shimmer on the coffee table.
Valentine’s Day—still five weeks away, but already making its presence known in this town.
She pulls out her reservation book, and we begin discussing arrangements for the guests.
Tom sits in a nearby chair, his presence silent but known.
The soft light illuminates his strong profile as he’s seemingly engrossed in perusing a book from the shelves.
My heart yearns for more. More late-night talks, more banter, more stolen glances. More than just friends.
But then my mind kicks in.
Logic over heart, Caroline.
You live in a whirlwind city, a life full of fancy events and client meetings, and he’s rooted in his hometown, where everyone knows each other.
Remember how your failed marriage made you feel?
You promised yourself you wouldn’t go there again, not unless it was right.
And a long-distance relationship with a firefighter?
It’s a recipe for disaster, or at the very least, heartache.
We’re just friends. Friends enjoy each other’s company. Friends call each other and are excited to see one another.
His eyes lift from the pages of the book and stare into mine.
There’s something about Tom that makes me want to risk it all, to step out of my comfort zone and dive into the unknown.