Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
At her second town hall meeting, Willa slipped into the folding chair beside Decker, their shoulders brushing, thighs pressed together.
She breathed in the smell of brewed coffee and a clash of perfumes and colognes.
Ceiling fans turned lazily overhead, stirring warm July air that carried in through open windows.
This time, when she turned to the laughter drifting from the back row, and the squeal of a toddler near the exit, she recognized faces.
“You look beautiful tonight.” Decker flipped his ball cap backwards and planted a kiss on her mouth.
Taking her on the roof of the inn or in the privacy of her bedroom was one form of exhilaration. But claiming her publicly? That was a whole other level.
Maybe it was because she’d never really belonged to anyone before. This bond was so real, so strong, she felt the tug of it in the fabric of her soul.
With one hand holding a pie on his lap, Decker read a message on his phone. She wasn’t snooping, but she did recognize the coach’s name.
Heat crawled up her neck, and she looked away.
Sometimes, living in their little bubble, she forgot the clock was ticking. All it took was a slap of reality for it all to come crashing down.
Last night, she’d been so nervous about suggesting she wanted them to stay together, but when he’d said he wanted the same thing, it had taken their intimacy to a whole new level.
In every other relationship, there was always game playing, doubt, and a constant edge of wondering what your partner was thinking. But with Decker, they had none of that. They were honest, real, connected. It was a soul-deep connection.
Today had been spectacular. Not because of anything exciting—no, it was the simple pleasures of life.
It was stolen moments with her dad—sharing a memory or an old in-joke—and Birdie shadowing her around the inn and making everyone laugh with the things she said and did.
And Decker. Lazing in bed to talk and snuggle, making a meal together, catching each other up at the end of the day.
Wherever had she gotten the idea that a high-powered life was more rewarding than one centered around family and friends?
His fingers tapped furiously, brow furrowed. She knew he’d talked to his coach that morning, so the fact that the conversation had continued throughout the day didn’t bode well.
Doubt crept back in. Once he got back to his team, he’d go all in. He had to.
It’s who he is.
Only now he had Birdie, too. Both were a lot higher on his priority list than she was. And that was fair.
Her pulse thumped a little too fast, and she reminded herself they could try. They would try. If only they’d had more time to solidify things. Two weeks wasn’t nearly enough.
But you know, whatever happens, I’ll be fine.
I’ll be so busy, I won’t have time to feel sad.
After he pocketed his phone, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.
Just knowing he felt it, too, soothed the fear thrashing around in her chest.
Their feelings weren’t the problem. It was the situation.
What was that expression? Right love, wrong time?
“Dude, you’re scaring the kids,” Boone said as he dropped into a chair behind them.
Decker twisted around. “What’re you talking about?”
“You look like you carry a switchblade in your boot.” Wyatt filed in and sat down.
“Well, I like it.” Willa tugged on his scruff. “I think it’s sexy.” Everything about him turned her on. His ink, the confident way he walked, the way he studied the people he cared about so carefully. Always checking to see if they were all right.
“He’ll shave soon enough,” his dad said.
“And then he’ll go back to looking like a pretty boy,” Boone said.
“Fuck off.” Decker flipped him off.
Just across the aisle, Mr. Dillard eased his body onto a folding chair. “He’s here,” she whispered.
Decker lifted the cherry pie off his knee and stood. The elderly man’s wife had had a heart attack two weeks ago, and Decker thought a pie might cheer him up.
As she watched him quietly chat with the man, she knew she was screwed. It was no use minimizing her feelings for him. He was special. She’d never find another man like him.
Another connection like they had.
If it didn’t work out, she was going to be in for the loss of a lifetime, and instead of trying to talk her way out of these feelings, she needed to surrender.
She loved Decker McKenna. It might not make sense. They might not have had enough time together, but she knew her feelings. She knew the depth of them. And for the first time, she understood the concept of soulmates.
He might look dangerous with that overgrown hair and messy beard, but those piercing blue eyes told the truth. The man beneath the hard, handsome facade was kind, loving, and generous. He was a beast in bed, honest, loyal, smart, and fun.
And he was hers.
Decker sat back down, immediately reaching for her hand and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. He clutched her, like being separated for forty-five seconds had been pure torture.
He didn’t know how his constant need to touch her healed the lonely little girl who still lived inside her.
Sitting across from her at the dinner table, he’d brush his foot against hers.
When they gave Birdie a bath, his hands reached for hers in the warm, soapy water.
And in the middle of the night, he woke her up with his hunger.
She’d spent her whole life trying to be the hard, sharp businesswoman her mom wanted. But around Decker, she felt soft, pliant…open.
She’d been running so fast, the world around her had blurred. But with this man, she could slow down and savor. And she didn’t want to go back to the life she had before him.
“That was sweet of you,” she said. “I hope he likes cherry.”
Just over Decker’s shoulder, she heard Phinny, with her lovely British accent, talking to Knox. The two women leaned into each other like best friends sharing secrets.
“Let’s all take our seats,” the mayor called. “We’ll get this meeting started.”
The mood in the room shifted as feet shuffled, chairs scraped, and conversation turned to whispers.
“We’ve got a short agenda tonight, so let’s start with Willa.”
With a nod of acknowledgment, she rose. “I only have two things to say, so I’ll keep it short. First, thank you.” She smiled with gratitude. “I came home for a wedding, and I wound up staying to restore the inn. And when I asked for your help, boy, did you show up.” Her gaze traveled the room.
“The inn’s the best thing about this town,” someone called.
“Well, maybe not the best,” someone else said. “Let’s not forget Coco’s Chocolates and the Singing Baker.”
Laughter rippled across the room.
But Willa wasn’t done. “Joan, your son brought the music back. He’s so talented, and he just lights up when he plays. Everyone loves him.”
“And he’s not playing video games all day,” Joan said. “Win-win.”
Willa smiled and moved on. “Kailey, I’m sorry to do this to you, but I’m keeping your ex-husband. He’s everything we wanted. And bringing his pastry chef has made me a very happy woman. Our breakfasts are amazing, and I couldn’t be more grateful.”
“No hangry Willa,” Decker teased.
“Hey.” She nudged him. “I’m delightful.” She turned her attention back to the crowd. “If you haven’t tried Monica’s blueberry scones, you’re missing out on something special.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” someone up front called.
Willa sought out the electrician. “Sam, you rewired half the back hallway with twelve hours’ notice.”
“Old building.” He shrugged. “It was due.”
“Well, it was more than generous, so thank you.” Across the aisle, she spotted the plumber. “Norma, you and your team fixed plumbing that’s been wonky since 1982.”
Norma waved a hand, dismissing her contribution, but Willa shook her head, determined to let everyone know how much she’d done.
“We didn’t even know we had a problem until after you fixed it.
And Knox, the costumes were a hit. I thought I’d have to convince the staff to play dress-up, but they’re fighting over which ones they get to wear. ”
Knox smiled. “It was our pleasure.”
After Willa finished acknowledging those who’d donated bedding, curtains, and bathroom supplies, she concluded with her ask.
“Now, I’ve got one last request, and that’s for a general manager.
I still haven’t found anyone who understands the history of the inn.
You can’t respect or appreciate what you don’t understand.
So, if you know anyone who might be a good fit—”
“What about Claire?” Mrs. Landry asked.
That name wasn’t familiar, but others seemed to perk up.
“She’s the curator of the Reliquary Museum,” Mrs. Landry said. “The keeper of Calamity’s artifacts.”
“That woman can recite the lineage of half the town and the origin story of the other half,” someone from the back called.
A murmur of agreement moved through the room.
Willa forced a smile. If Claire would be perfect, why wasn’t she happy about it?
“Do you think she’d be interested if she already has a job?”
“Well, the museum’s only open a few days a week,” someone said.
“I can ask her,” another person said. “She teaches yoga, too.”
Willa wanted to say, “That’s okay. I’ll reach out to her.” Because for a fleeting, irrational second, she couldn’t imagine giving that job to anyone outside of her family. Intellectually, she knew it wasn’t even close to selling the inn, so why did it feel that way?
The discomfort surprised her. It felt territorial. And yet…there it was.
Decker’s hand touched the small of her back in quiet support.
Always reading me, always caring.