Chapter 25
Erin
I stepped out of the inn's front door just as Skye rolled up in her neon green Jeep Wrangler, Aurelia riding shotgun. The Jeep's top was off, and they both wore wide smiles that were contagious.
"Ready for a treasure hunt?" Skye asked as I hopped into the backseat.
"Absolutely." I tucked my hair behind my ear and buckling up. We set off down the road lined with trees ablaze with bright summer colors.
We arrived in Maple Ridge, the next town over from Stock Creek.
Maple Ridge was a quaint little place, quieter and a little more settled than Stock Creek, with a charming main street lined with brick buildings and tall, old trees.
Together we wandered through the antique shops, our steps echoing softly on the wooden floors.
Every shelf and corner was crammed with artifacts from bygone eras, each holding whispers of its own history.
The day went wonderfully, with a stop for a delicious lunch in a charming little diner called 'The Daily Grind' right on Maple Ridge's main street.
The air inside was thick with the scent of grilled cheese and freshly brewed coffee, and sunlight streamed through the tall windows, warming our table.
We laughed and chatted over hearty BLTs and crispy fries, sharing stories and easy jokes, the conversation flowing as effortlessly as the coffee.
These women were the friends I hadn't realized I needed, but now that I'd begun to bond with them, I didn't want to lose them.
In the last shop of the day, I trailed my fingers over delicate porcelain and inlaid wood, the musty scent of old books and furniture filling the air like a comforting blanket.
"Look at this." Aurelia lifted a tarnished silver locket from a glass case. "It's engraved with someone's initials."
"J.D.," I said. "I wonder who they were."
"Probably someone's old flame," Skye said.
As we meandered through the aisles, the conversation ebbed and flowed around family heirlooms and the stories they might tell. It wasn't long before they coaxed bits of my past out into the open.
"I grew up in an old farmhouse." I examined a hand-carved rocking horse that reminded me of home. "My parents loved restoring antiques. Every piece had a story, a memory attached to it, much like these."
My voice softened as nostalgia washed over me. "Summer days were spent running through fields and helping my dad in his workshop. My mom would paint landscapes of the countryside... It was peaceful, almost magical. "
"Sounds wonderful," Aurelia said, her voice warm.
"It was," I said with a pang in my heart.
"Until it wasn't. After they died, though, everything changed.
The farm just sat empty. I was in Chicago and never went back.
I couldn't bear to see it, I guess, knowing they weren't there anymore, that all the magic was gone.
So I accepted an offer, sold it. I used the money to buy the Inn. "
Skye placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I bet they'd be happy knowing you're here with us now, making new memories."
I managed a small smile. "Yeah, I think they would be."
"Check this out." I held up a China plate with a delicate gold rim and a spray of painted violets in the center. The complete set was nestled in an aged wooden crate, each piece wrapped carefully in old newspapers.
"Those are lovely," Aurelia said, her eyes lingering not on the China but on a faded photograph beside it. "You know, items like these... They carry more than just food. They carry years of silent stories, some too heavy to recount."
Her words hung between us, weighted with unspoken history. I glanced at her, curiosity pricking at my thoughts. "Sounds like you've had your share of stories."
Aurelia looked away, her fingers tracing the frame of the photo before she said, "Let's just say the past few years have been...a journey. Some roads are rougher than others."
Before I could ask more, Skye called us over to where she stood by a sturdy oak bookshelf. Its shelves were empty but for a layer of dust and the faint scent of aged paper that still clung to the wood.
"This will be perfect for the manor." She ran her hand along the top shelf. "My Tbr pile is overflowing my shelves. Or maybe for the office. I could move some of my files into the bookshelf we have that closes and put the books on this one.
"What do you do?" I asked.
"Aurelia and I are the town accountants." She grinned and said, "I love the numbers, the order of it all." She hesitated, her gaze drifting past the rows of antiques. "Sometimes, I wonder if there's something else out there for me—something different."
"Like what?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I wish I knew. It's like there's a piece missing, you know? Just can't figure out what it is yet."
"Maybe it's not about finding one thing," I said, thinking back to the eclectic collection of memories from my childhood. "Maybe it's about exploring until all the pieces fit together."
"Maybe," Skye said, her smile returning as she gave the bookshelf a final pat. "For now, though, this shelf is going to see a lot of use."
After checking out and arranging delivery, we rolled to a stop in front of the inn, the engine humming softly as it idled. "Thanks for today," I said, opening the door and stepping out onto the curb.
"Anytime, Erin," Skye said from the driver's seat, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "It was fun."
"Let's do it again soon," Aurelia said.
"Definitely," I said, closing the car door behind me.
As I walked up the path to my front door, arms full of the purchases too small to have delivered, they honked the jeep.
Turning around, I saw them waving energetically through the open windows.
I waved back, watching as they drove off down the street, their laughter just audible over the car fading into the distance.
I let myself into the house, the quiet greeting me like an old friend. Alone now, I leaned against the door, thinking about the day. Antiquing with Skye and Aurelia had been more than just a casual outing; it felt like I had found two kindred spirits in this town.
"Today was good," I said to the empty room, smiling at the thought of our next adventure.
I kicked off my shoes at the door, arms laden with the remnants of an antiquing haul that had gone better than any before.
The foyer became a temporary resting place for a stack of vintage picture frames and a couple of ornate lamps I'd snagged at half-price.
I grinned to myself; these would look perfect in the guest rooms, adding just the right touch of charm to the inn.
The best part? They were all tax deductible.
"Erin?" Ashton's voice carried from the kitchen, warm and inviting.
I followed the scent of tomato sauce and melted cheese to find him standing there with an array of pizza boxes spread out on the counter—margherita mingling with pepperoni and a daring pineapple concoction. My stomach rumbled its approval.
"Looks like you've got dinner covered," I said, admiring the spread.
"Thought you could use a feast after your big day," he said, his eyes crinkling with a smile as he reached down and placed a soft kiss on my lips.
Laurie was already perched at the breakfast nook, one hand balancing a plate piled high with slices, the other clutching Nyx, who had taken to her like a moth to a flame.
"Nyx and I have a date with a psychology test," she said, sounding more excited than one should about academic assessments.
"You can have the kitten back when I'm done. "
"Good luck, and don't let her distract you too much.
" I chuckled, leaning over to plant a soft kiss atop Nyx's fuzzy head.
The kitten mewed softly, snuggling closer to Laurie as if sensing the imminent separation.
I gave them both a little wave and pulled up a chair next to Ashton, ready to dive into the pizza and share stories of our day.
"Before you start, come upstairs. I have something for you," Ashton said, his grin contagious as he juggled a couple of pizza boxes and sodas while I snagged some napkins and plates.
Curiosity piqued, I followed him up the narrow staircase, the wood creaking familiarly under our steps.
His room greeted us, the understated luxury, now greeted us with a charming disarray.
Some clothes strewn haphazardly, and a few forgotten papers lay scattered across the desk.
But tonight, amidst the elegant chaos, it hosted an unusual addition—an electric heater with fake flames flickering behind the glass. I couldn't help but laugh.
"Isn't it great? It's like we have our own fireplace without any of the hassle," he chuckled, setting down our makeshift feast.
"Very practical," I said, playfully stretching my hands out to the contraption. "But I'm afraid it might not keep us warm."
"Ah, but that's what these are for," Ashton gestured to the blanket and pillows arranged invitingly on the floor.
A soft wave of warmth spread through me. It was so perfectly Ashton, unexpectedly thoughtful, subtly romantic, transforming even a simple meal into something special.
He plunked down the food and pulled me to sit beside him. We settled in, surrounded by comfort and the aroma of Italian spices.
"Tell me about your treasure hunting," he said between bites.
I dove into the story of each find, describing the intricate carvings on a mahogany dresser set to be delivered and the delicate China set that seemed to whisper stories of elegant dinner parties from the past. Ashton listened, nodding along, his interest more than polite—it was genuine.
"You have a great eye for detail," he said, his admiration clear.
"Thanks," I said, a blush rising to my cheeks. "Enough about me. How was your day?"
"Surprisingly smooth," he said, wiping his hands on a napkin. "My partner's been talking about retiring, and today he made it official. Looks like I'll be stepping back into the practice sooner than expected."
"Wow, that's big news," I exclaimed, impressed. "Sounds like things are falling into place for you."
"More than I could've hoped," he said, his relief palpable. "The best part is, I won't need to worry about hiring any staff for my side of things."
"Seems like we both had a day of wins," I said, leaning back against the pillows.
"Here's to many more," Ashton raised his soda can in a toast, the faux firelight dancing in his eyes.
The glow from the electric heater cast a warm light over us, creating an illusion of coziness that complemented the softness of the blanket beneath us. Ashton grabbed my hand when we finished our pizza, his touch gentle yet charged with something more.
"Erin." He sounded low and serious in a way that made me turn to look at him directly. "I've got to be honest with you."
I waited, my heart picking up its pace.
"I'm falling for you. Hard." The words hung between us, and vulnerability flickered across his face.
I took a deep breath, emotions swirling inside me. "Ashton, I..." My words trailed off, unsure how to articulate the complexity of my feelings.
"Hey, it's okay," he said quickly, squeezing my hand. "You don't have to say anything you're not ready to."
I mustered a smile, grateful for his understanding. "It's not that simple for me. Falling in love, I mean. With everything that's happened in my life, I can't just dive headfirst into a relationship."
He nodded, his eyes searching mine. "I get that."
"But," I said, "what I can tell you is that I feel like I'm falling, too. It's slower, maybe, but it's happening." I got a twinge of fear even as I spoke the truth, aware of how much I was risking.
"Then that's enough for me," Ashton said, his smile genuine and reassuring. "We'll take this at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I'm here for the long haul."
Hearing those words, I allowed myself to lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder. The moment felt fragile and precious, like a bubble that could burst at any second, yet I wanted to see where this would go.
Ashton's gaze held warmth, a silent promise that seemed to bridge the distance between hesitation and certainty. My heart rate picked up, not solely from desire but from the connection that had steadily woven itself around us.
Ashton brushed a strand of hair from my face, and I let out a content sigh, feeling a peace I hadn't known in a long time.
"Thank you." Those two words carried the weight of my gratitude for more than just the moments passed.
"For what?" he asked, his voice low and laced with drowsy satisfaction.
"For being patient. For...this." I swept my hand in a vague gesture that encompassed the room, him, and the intangible something that hung between us.
"Erin," he said, but I pressed a finger to his lips.
"Let's just stay like this for a while," I said, craving the quiet cocoon we had created away from the world and its demands.
"Whatever you want," he said, and we settled into silence, the kind that speaks volumes.
In the stillness, I realized that this was more than a fleeting moment of passion. This was a step, a leap, toward something enduring. As the night deepened, so did the sense that maybe, just maybe, I was ready to fall after all.