Chapter Eleven
Fish out of water.
It’s one of my favorite elements of romance. It’s not often in other genres that you see a main character so completely out of his/her element. In romance, it just adds to the tension sometimes. Or the trope.
I’ve never felt so much like a fish out of water as I do on this trip. Like in these books, I am completely out of my comfort zone… and it’s changing me. The heroines in these books from @HeartwarmingRomance leave their hometown or city lives to renovate an inn or care for a relative… and they end up finding themselves—and love—in a new environment.
What’s your favorite fish-out-of-water romance? Let me know in the comments.
*
Operation Small Town, Day 19
“So, you admit that you’re liking it there, then?” Josie says, her voice crackling from the other end of the phone. She wouldn’t FaceTime with me today, probably because she’s working on the other end of the phone and doesn’t want me to see how distracted she is. I roll my eyes at her question.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to get me to admit,” I reply, a bit defensive. “It’s a beautiful place, great for a vacation.” My mind flashes back to telling Liam that I was in Hudson Hollow for vacation, a lie which he still believes. “I’m not as anti-small town as everyone—well, mainly you—makes me out to be.”
“I don’t believe you are. But your mother is, and I know how persuasive she can be,” I can sense the judgment in Josie’s tone.
“You’re not that far off, you know,” I reply.
It’s been a few days since the picnic, and in that time, I’ve been doing a lot of solo scouting. Yesterday I made it my business to go into every establishment on Main Street, from the gas station to the post office. It didn’t take me long. While Hudson Hollow is a quaint town, it doesn’t have an idyllic used bookstore with a grumpy owner looking for an out-of-towner to revive her small business. There’s no small coffee shop with a pun for a name or a historic site that could inspire a novel. There’s Liz’s, Lucia’s, the library, the post office, and Stewart’s/the gas station.
I also spoke with Anne yesterday, who was ecstatic about my notes from the picnic.
“ You actually line-danced with these people ? I would have paid to see a video of that !”
“ Well, that sounds like workplace harassment ,” I deadpanned.
“ Was there a campfire ? Did they sing ?”
“ You don’t have to talk about them like they’re an exhibit, Anne. But no, thank goodness, there was no actual sitting by the fire and singing folk songs. I think I would have lost it .”
“ Are you getting soft on small-town life, city girl?” Anne said, and I could feel the condescension in her voice.
“ And prove you right? Never .”
I could tell from Anne’s voice when she asked about the “hero character” that she wanted to know more about Liam, whom she must have heard about from Elle. So far, most of my notes she’s seen have been about the town, and the heroine. After the picnic, I started to list out some side characters that could round out the town’s ensemble. Of course, I had to add a bubbly, intriguing library assistant who loves to share stories about the town’s rich history, just to stick it to Beth. But I haven’t been able to paint a clear picture of who the hero will be. I knew going in that Anne basically expected me to infiltrate Hudson Hollow, but I didn’t realize just how personal of a job it would be. The way Jill talked about her brother’s happiness, and me somehow playing a part in that, has made my outlook on this project completely different.
“Can’t you see the benefits of being in a place like that?” Aunt Josie says. “The slow pace, the nature. I would love it.”
“You’re the one who jumps from big city to big city,” I remind her.
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, my love,” she says, sighing. “There’s a bit too much hustle and bustle in this life for me these days. A lake house and a quiet life sounds magical.”
“Then why don’t you come home?” I ask, my chest aching, yearning for one of her tight hugs. “We can quit our jobs and move to the sticks. We’ll start a sewing circle and have a garden and do outdoorsy shit.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” she muses.
As reluctant as I am to prove Anne and Josie right, maybe I am getting a little soft on this small-town life. “I mean, things are slow here. Like, in no rush to get anywhere-level of slow. And people actually use the crosswalks and wait for the light to turn before crossing the street.” Josie cackles. “But I guess there are perks to not having to fight elbow-to-elbow with people to get off the subway car first, or dodging oblivious people wearing air pods in the grocery store, I’m not spending my lunch hour rushing down the block to pay $15 for a soggy salad…” My voice trails off. I’m not sitting behind a desk all day, watching the rat race on the street below me.
“Mhmm,” Josie hums. I don’t have to be able to see her to know the look on her face right now. It says “I told you so” in about seven different languages. “Refreshing, isn’t it?”
When I hang up with Josie, I head outside to collect the mail. Part of my “rent”, as Anne calls it, is collecting Al and Mella’s mail and forwarding anything urgent. The sun is setting over the mountains, and of course, I take my phone out to snap a picture. No photo will ever do it justice, though. And every time I do it, I think of Liam, and his Outsiders reference. We all see the same sunset .
The sky seems to have so many more colors here than it does in the city. Of course, I realize that doesn’t make a lot of sense, since it is the same sky. But I can see so much more of it here. My favorite is when it looks like it does tonight, with layers of colors, one on top of another. Red is closest to the mountains, then orange on top of it, yellow blush on top of that, and purple-pink clouds scattered across the top.
I start to go back into the house when I hear a deep “woof” behind me. I turn and see Blue galloping over like the clumsiest horse I’ve ever seen. I can’t help but giggle. “Hey, buddy!” I squeal, squatting down to pet him. When he nudges me with his big head, it knocks me off balance, and my butt hits the gravel with a thud. “Oh my goodness,” I mumble as he licks my face. I laugh until I’m out of breath and I’m finally able to sit up and calm him down. “How are you today? How are you?” I say, my voice pretending like I’m talking to a baby instead of a dog.
“Blue!” I hear Liam call in the distance, but Blue makes no move to listen. I’m scratching his neck behind his ear, and he’s moaning in response.
“I think you’re wanted elsewhere, my friend,” I say, standing up. “Let’s go find Liam. Come on.” I pat my leg and Blue follows, brushing against my thigh every few steps. I walk around the side of Liam’s house and spot him on the dock. He’s looking around for Blue, and seems aggravated when he sees him with me.
Liam claps his hands for Blue to come to him. Blue looks up at me and appears to smirk. We walk toward the dock together. Liam takes a step off of the dock once Blue starts to approach him. I see Brett on the dock behind him, zipping a cooler shut and throwing it over his shoulder.
Liam puts his hands on his hips, looking at Blue knowingly. He’s in one of his long-sleeved shirts, much like what he wore on the boat that day, and a pair of board shorts. There are three fishing lines leaning off the dock.
“Hey, sorry he bothered you,” he says, patting Blue’s back.
“Don’t be silly, Blue could never bother me,” I say, sitting down on the grass. Blue comes back over to me to continue his rubdown. He collapses beside me and flips onto his back, lifting his leg up so I can rub his belly. Liam can’t help but smile.
“You’re going to lose your free rein privileges, B,” Liam tells him. Blue looks up at him lazily, barely able to keep his eyes open.
“Hey, Lucy, nice to see you again,” Brett says, coming up beside Liam.
“You too,” I say with a shy smile. Brett is the kind of handsome that can be a shock to the system. His voice is deep and strong, and his smile could make anyone blush.
“I’m off to feed the missus,” Brett says, clapping his hand across Liam’s back.
“You’re married?” I ask, not quite able to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Newly, yeah. Just under a year.” Brett flashes his hand at me, where a black ring adorns his finger. I try to lower my eyebrows and hide the expression on my face. Elle will be so disappointed in this development. Brett has been her favorite character in my stories as of late.
“See you soon, bud,” Liam says, giving Brett a fist bump. Brett and I exchange small waves as he walks away.
Liam and I exchange glances for a moment, and I suppose one of us should say “How are you?” or something of the like, but neither of us can seem to work up the courage. He finally breaks away to look back at his fishing poles. “Want to join?” he asks.
“Sorry, join what?” I say, looking between him and the dock.
“Fishing,” he says, in a tone that makes it sound like it should be obvious.
“Hah, um yeah, I don’t think I’m the fishing type of girl,” I reply. I know Liam probably wants to make a comment about how “city girl” that sounded, so I beat him to it. “Have I mentioned I’m from Manhattan?”
“An island surrounded by water in which fish live?” he asks, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips in a jokingly condescending manner.
“Excuse me, sir, I don’t like your tone,” I say, waving my finger at him.
“Prove me wrong then,” he says, holding out his hand.
Why my mind flashes to the 2005 Pride and Prejudice hand flex, I have no idea. But I take his hand anyway, which he immediately drops after he pulls me to my feet.
I don’t really think of myself as a “girly girl,” or one who has no concept of how to hold a football. I’m not judgmental of girls who are, but I don’t know if that is how I would describe myself. I’m willing to get my hands dirty, I’m up for a day on the boat, tubing in murky lake water, and whatnot, but a twenty-minute session on the elliptical is my maximum. I’m not delicate, but I’m not a go-getter, nature girl. I’m not about to go rock climbing or anything, but I can usually handle myself. Usually.
But I don’t think I’ve ever looked as awkward as I do when Liam hands me a fishing pole.
“Here, I’ll hook the bait on the end,” Liam says, handing me the pole and guiding me to hold the line swinging off it.
I hold the thin wire he hands me and slide my fingers down to the end with the hook. But of course, my fingers slip and I prick myself with said hook.
“Ouch!”
“Tell me you did not just poke yourself with the hook,” Liam says, not turning around from his supplies.
“I did not just poke myself with the hook,” I recite back to him, biting my thumb.
Liam turns around with a menacing look on his face. When he glances up at me, I force a smile around my thumb. Liam closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.
It’s moments like these—when I have a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, could-be-on-the-cover-of-a-romance-novel man sitting next to me winking at me—that I feel like I could literally burst out laughing.
Thankfully, I don’t. Count one point for Lucy’s usually lacking self-control.
Elle would call me cynical for even thinking this, but men like Liam don’t exist in real life. Towns like Hudson Hollow don’t exist in real life. These past few weeks have felt like an out-of-body experience, and every time I look at Liam, I’m reminded of just how ridiculous this whole thing is.
I’m an editorial assistant, the lowest man on the totem pole of the publishing industry, being paid to work remotely from a lakeside cabin. I’ve somehow transplanted myself into a Hallmark movie where my neighbor happens to be a real-life blonde-haired, blue-eyed hunk with a tragic past and an adorable family. I cannot wrap my brain around the fact that in a few weeks I’ll be back in the city, where guys who look like Liam are the ones on dating apps who are in open relationships or don’t understand the difference between you’re and your .
I look down at my phone and see that I missed a call from my mom on my walk over here. “Do you have to take that?” Liam asks, nodding toward my phone.
“Nah, it’s my mom. I’ll call her back later,” I say, putting my phone in my pocket.
“What do your parents think about you being here? They must be jealous that you’re not spending your time off work with them,” he says, fiddling with the fishing line.
“They’re definitely not thrilled about it,” I say with a small laugh. “They very much think my focus should be on my work, not gallivanting in a small town.”
“They’re city people too?”
“Oddly enough, no. I grew up in the suburbs. I guess I thought of it as a small town, until coming here. Now I know what puts the small in small town .” I shake my head, hating the way I just said that. “Not that I think there’s anything bad about it—”
“Kind of sounds like you do,” Liam replies, obviously a little peeved.
“No, or… I don’t know. I’m starting to see that a small town has its perks.” I pause, gauging his reaction. “Growing up, I was an only child, and I was lonely a lot. More than I think my parents ever knew. When I moved to the city, I thought my problem would be solved. I was on an island with millions of people. I’d read so many books where the characters were enraptured by Manhattan, the sense of community, the hidden treasures, the experiences only New York could offer. But I didn’t find any of that when I got there.” I pause, thinking about the early days when I moved to Manhattan, trying and failing to make connections with people, desperately searching for that once-in-a-lifetime feeling that I’d seen so many characters in movies and books experience. “I felt lonelier than I ever had in my life.” Liam watches me intently as I speak, and I know he is analyzing every word I say. “But here, I see that sense of community. It’s really something special.”
Liam absorbs every word that comes out of my mouth like he’s calculating something in his mind or trying to store my sentences in the memory bank behind his eyes. When I stop speaking, he looks at me quizzically.
“Why do you have that look on your face?” he asks me, furrowing his brows. It’s only then that I realize my brows are scrunched too. I’m not sure how to answer him, because I’m a bit taken aback by myself. Why did I just say all of that? What possessed me to choose this moment to become the over-sharer that Elle is always pushing me to be?
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just surprised I said that. I’m not usually very forthcoming with my feelings. That’s what my friend Elle says anyway.”
When Liam smirks at me, the answer is clear.
It’s him. Liam brings out the truth in me.
“Well,” he starts, gazing out over the water. “I don’t know about feelings, but it seems like what you’re saying is that Hudson Hollow is where you need to be right now. I believe that.”
“That sounds like something Elle would say too,” I say with a smile. “She’s always manifesting things into the universe and whatnot.”
“I’d love to meet her one day,” Liam says with a smile. “And I’m just going to say this,” he says, placing his fishing pole against his chair and leaning toward me with his elbows on his knees. I stifle a gasp when his knee bumps mine. “I don’t think you have anything to be afraid of. With your parents, New York, anything. When I look at you I see someone who moved to one of the most intimidating cities on her own.” I nod at the questioning tone in his voice. “Then she had the courage to come to a strange place all by herself and open herself up to this community. That’s bravery. That’s what I see, Lucy Bowen.”
I don’t say anything right away, because how does one respond to that? Liam lets our legs nudge each other without breaking his gaze. I can’t help but look away. The weight of his eyes makes my stomach flutter. As soon as I look down, Liam’s hand reaches out and gently brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear. My eyelids shoot open and my eyes find his.
“Liam—ahh!” My hand jolts forward with a thrust from my fishing line. Liam jumps up like he’s assessing the surrounding area for danger. I grab the pole with both hands and try to resist the pull of the taut line. I stand up and frantically look at Liam. “What do I do? What do I do?” I scream. Blue jumps up and barks, his big paws pitter-pattering in rhythm with my flip-flops on the wooden boards.
“First of all, calm down,” Liam says, wrapping his arms around me and covering my hands with his. “I’ll hold the pole; you reel it in.”
I remind myself to exhale when I feel Liam’s strong chest behind me and the flex of his arms on my shoulders. “Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness,” I mutter, keeping my left hand under Liam’s and moving the other to the reel. Liam’s hand clenches over mine as the tug on the other end of the line becomes stronger, and I feel a warmth as I admire his strong fingers. They’re full of dirt from rummaging in the bait box, but they’re perfect and strong, and everything that the heroine in a romance novel would admire. I laser my focus on the task at hand and reel the line in the direction Liam showed me. As it gets a few feet away, the water beneath it stirs and a small fish emerges on the other end of my line. I swing the pole over the dock and thrust it into Liam’s hands.
“Oh my God! It’s flipping around!” I squeal, watching the poor creature helplessly flop over and over on the wooden surface. “Why does anyone do this? This is horrible !”
Liam chuckles and grabs the line with his hand, leading the fish into a bucket of water he’s set aside and that I, shockingly, haven’t managed to knock over with my outburst. “So, I guess that means you don’t want to take the hook out then, huh?” he asks playfully.
Blue barks and paws at the bucket as Liam sticks his hands in and somehow emerges with the other end of the fishing line. He puts his hands up with a shrug and shows me the hook. “And that’s how it’s done.”
“That was so stressful. It was like a massacre !”
Liam bellows a loud laugh and actually clutches his chest while he does so. Blue is so surprised by the noise that he must think something is wrong with Liam. He bounds over to him and jumps up, matching Liam in height as he places a paw on each of Liam’s shoulders. Liam’s laugh grows and I can’t help but join in as Blue attacks Liam with kisses. The dog nuzzles his face against Liam’s and slobbers all over him.
“I’m okay, Blue! I’m okay!” Liam says, placing the dog’s paws back on the ground. “He hasn’t heard me laugh like that in a while,” Liam admits, rubbing the dog’s head.
“I’m glad my fishing brought it out of you,” I joke, crossing my arms and pretending to look offended.
“Honestly, me too,” Liam replies, smiling brilliantly at me.
My last conversation with Jill flashes through my mind, but it’s not something I’m willing to address right now. No, right now, I’m going to enjoy the smile on this man’s face. The man who, ironically, is holding a fishing line, but isn’t in a Tinder profile picture, but who is real, right here in front of me, looking at me in a way I have never seen before.
And it scares the hell out of me.