EIPLOGUE
“And it’s time to pick another winner.” Phoebe’s voice came over the microphone, filling the café and filtering over the exterior speakers to the diners seated on the patio, where heaters kept the fall chill away for the grand opening of Wild Harts.
The customers cheered, but that didn’t stop George from playing the piano. Nor did it stop Henry Baxter from singing along with George to “Blueberry Hill” by Fats Domino—much to the customers’ amusement.
With a coffeepot in one hand and a champagne bottle in the other, Avery scanned the space, searching for flutes or mugs to refill. She was stunned by the sheer number of people stuffed into the café. The restaurant had been filled to capacity since they opened the doors at 6:00 a.m. Six hours later, both the indoor and patio space remained packed with an hour-long wait list.
A giddy flutter passed through her belly, leaving a deep sense of awe and gratitude.
“This prize,” Phoebe said, “is three free breakfasts for two here at Wild Harts.”
She called off the ticket number, and a moment of silence ensued. Then Amber, a young woman who worked at Finley’s Market—and Mark Davis’s date for this event—jumped up. “Me! That’s me!” Everyone clapped, and Avery laughed.
“Behind you.” One of the waitresses passed Avery coming out of the kitchen, her arms laden with plates. “Hot food.”
A moment later, another waitress came at her from the opposite direction. The cooks were cranking out great food and the waitresses and bussers were kicking ass and turning tables. Phoebe and Pearl acted as the emcee team for activities, announcements, and door prizes. Delaney, Ethan, and Zane roamed the café and the patio, chatting, refilling drinks, making sure everyone was happy.
Avery wandered to a table where Betty, wife of Avery’s piano tuner, Henry, sat with five other members of the Geri-Hat-Tricks bridge club.
“Refills, ladies?” Avery asked.
“Oh, yes, please.” Betty was the first to lift her champagne glass, but orange juice layered the bottom.
“Would you like me to refresh your mimosa?” Avery asked.
She gave a shrug. “Why water down the good stuff with orange juice?”
“Good point.”
After emptying another bottle, Avery thanked the women for coming, and started toward the breakfast bar, where cases of champagne waited beneath the counter.
Uncorking the bottle, Avery took in all the familiar faces. At least half the artists who rented space from Phoebe at Wildly Artesian were here now or had already been in. Belle Davis had pulled through on her promise to bring her entire office staff to the opening, including Dr. Morrison and his wife. Sheriff and Mrs. Holland had been on the patio chatting for hours, along with several deputies. The Mulligans, all Delaney’s and Avery’s friends from school, the owners of Finley’s Market...
The whole town was here.
Except of course Austin, for which she was grateful. It was better for everyone. She understood the hurt lingering over his brother’s death. But she didn’t understand his attempts to place blame on innocent people or to bully others over to his way of thinking.
Harlan joined the older group at the piano, and George transitioned from “Blueberry Hill” into “Ain’t That a Shame.” In a corner near the piano, Willow had set up a children’s area, where kids now sat at a small table and drew or played with toys on a colorful carpet.
Movement on the stairs to the second floor, the event space as well as Avery’s apartment, drew her gaze. Trace came down the steps and into the main restaurant with the couple from out of town he’d taken off Avery’s hands half an hour ago, offering to give them a tour. He was animated, gesturing as he spoke, pointing out different aspects of the remodel, and the simple sight of him flushed her heart with joy.
Dressed in black slacks and a deep-blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms, Trace looked mouthwatering. He turned his head, caught her gaze, and grinned. A little over a week since the fiasco with JT, his face still bore remnants of their fight. But instead of being considered a leper as he’d expected, he’d been hailed by most as a hero for saving Avery’s business.
Trace walked the couple to the door and shook hands before they left. Avery longed to get him alone to show him just how much she appreciated all his support. Then sleep twelve hours. She was exhausted.
Avery wandered back into the seating area where Willow came up beside her. “Mother alert, two o’clock.”
She glanced toward the front door where MaryAnn Holmes stood, looking around. She let out a breath of resignation. The day after the incident with JT, Willow had come by the café to check on Avery. She’d also come to tell Avery that she wanted her job as manager back, and that she’d given her mother an ultimatum: get over her resistance to Willow taking the job, or Willow was moving out. But Avery had reservations about how willing MaryAnn would be to honor their agreement.
“Don’t worry,” Willow said. “I was extremely clear with her. If she says one wrong thing, you tell me. Becky’s got a bed ready for me at her house.”
Avery smiled. “I’m sure it will be fine. How is everything else going?”
“Fan-freaking-tastic,” Willow told her, then added, “We’re out of pastries.”
Avery’s smile dropped. “We can’t be. There were mountains?—”
“Gone. Every last one.”
“But we baked twenty hours a day for days?—”
“Not even a crumb left,” Willow said matter-of-factly, “and we have dozens of orders for more.”
Avery’s breath whooshed out in shock.
Trace came up to them and slid his big, warm hand up the back of her dress, slipped it under her hair, and caressed the nape of her neck. And, Lord, that felt good.
“Add one to my name,” he told Willow, then shot a sly grin at Avery. “I just got another kitchen remodel bid.”
Willow broke into a smile. “You’re gaining on her.”
The amount of work she and Trace had been offered since they’d opened the doors that morning had become a running competition, with Willow keeping tallies on potential jobs stemming from the day. She’d been booking parties, catering gigs, and wedding cake design appointments for Avery all morning. Trace had a bevy of construction jobs lined up, everything from laying concrete to complete home renovations.
“Are you sure you don’t want to lift the cap on your Thanksgiving pie orders?” Willow asked playfully. “I have a very long list of people hoping you’ll cave under the pressure.”
Trace laughed, the sound deep and rich. “Good thing we added that extra oven.”
“Holy shit.” Avery pressed a hand to her hot cheek and looked to Willow. “God, I hope you’re ready to start baking.”
“I like the sound of that.” MaryAnn approached, her demeanor substantially friendlier today. “She is amazing in the kitchen.”
“And I can’t wait to get her in there.” Avery offered her hand to MaryAnn. “We’re okay?”
MaryAnn’s gaze darted to Willow, then back to Avery. “We’re good.”
Relief eased Avery’s shoulders, and a smile spread across her face. “Would you like me to find you a seat?—”
“I’ll just grab a chair with my book club.”
“Great. I’ll send a server right over.” Avery stopped one of the waitresses and directed her to MaryAnn.
The portable phone rang in Willow’s hand, and she moved away from the group to answer.
Suddenly, between the swamped restaurant and the buzz of activity, Avery and Trace were alone, in that intimate cocoon they seemed to be able to find anywhere.
Looking into her eyes, he slipped his arms around her waist. His lips tilted in a slow, soft smile. “Hi.”
She leaned into him, mirrored his smile. “Hi.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m ready to fall into bed with you.”
“Mmm, ditto, Cream Puff.”
She glanced toward the piano, where George attempted a rusty version of “Great Balls of Fire.” “I can’t believe how that’s come back to him.”
“I can’t believe how that’s brought him back to us,” Trace said. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet.”
“I don’t think you have to.”
He kissed her softly, and Avery felt overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness. “I still feel like I’m in a dream. All anxious that I’m going to wake up and I’m still going to be fighting to reach this dream.”
He lifted his head. “You’ve done all the fighting. Now you’re reaping your reward.”
“I dreamed about this day for a long time, you know? Until a few months ago, I thought that’s all it would ever be, a dream. And even after I started down the road to making it a reality, I must have second-guessed myself a thousand times.”
He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek.
“In my heart of hearts I knew I’d get here. But this opening has exceeded my every last wild dream. And you know why?”
He grinned. “Because you’re beating me in job prospects?”
Avery laughed and lifted her hand to cup his jaw. “Because you’re with me. This wouldn’t mean half as much to me without you here.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He slid a strand of hair behind her ear. “How do you feel about today? About the events and wedding cakes and four hundred sixty-two pies you’ll be making?”
Avery laughed. “Amazing beyond words.” The men at the piano collectively introduced a new song from bygone eras, “Earth Angel” by the Penguins. Harlan, Henry, Pearl, and Phoebe had joined George in singing the sweet ballad.
“Good.” He bent his head until his lips softly touched hers. “Because I love you beyond words.”
The emotions those words evoked were so beautiful they hurt. She took his face in her hands and held his gaze. “I love you, too. So much.”
Trace wrapped her in his arms, swept her back in a dramatic dip, and kissed her in front of a café full of customers...and essentially all of Wildwood.
A burst of whistles and applause burst around them. Avery broke the kiss with laughter. The feeling of being completely loved swam through her for the first time in years.
When Trace pulled her upright, the old-timers decided to jazz things up again with “Old Time Rock and Roll.” Customers started clapping to the rhythm and signing along. Trace twirled Avery beneath his arm, then pulled her in to dance with him. Across the restaurant, Ethan grabbed Delaney and joined them on the makeshift dance floor.
George handled the piano fairly well, but when the group’s worn vocal chords stretched to shout the lyrics, notes went haywire and laughter sprinkled through the café.
Surrounded by her family, her lifelong friends, and the man she loved, Avery felt all the loose ends in her life weave together into a perfect tapestry.
Smiling up at Trace, she knew she’d been right since the very beginning. It might have taken her a while to get here, but there was no doubt she was right where she belonged.