Chapter 3
Later that evening, Dakota steered her ten-year-old blue Ford Focus sedan into her driveway. Exhaustion covered her as she
killed the engine. She slumped in her seat and rested her forehead against the steering wheel as a yawn overtook her. Pulling
herself up, she looked ahead at her little house. When her phone started to ring, her father’s name flashed on the screen.
She stared at it for a moment, then decided to ignore the call as she climbed out of the car.
Dad had insisted that Dakota was taking on too much by buying a house while her business was still blossoming. Yet when the
two-bedroom home came up for sale, Dakota fell in love with it. She scraped together a down payment and snatched up the house
before anyone else could grab it. Its one-car garage, galley kitchen, two small bedrooms, family room, laundry room, and tiny
deck were all she needed. And it was hers. Well, technically, it belonged to the bank, but it would officially be hers someday.
After grabbing her mail from the mailbox and unlocking her door, Dakota stepped inside and was met by her orange tabby. “Hey,
Trouble. How was your day?”
The cat meowed and walked circles around her feet, rubbing her shins while she set her keys, purse, and tote bag on the bench
by the door.
“Mine was less than stellar, but thanks to Layla, it wasn’t a complete wash.” She deposited the mail on the kitchen counter
and scanned the cabinets that showed their age. A few of the doors were hanging at odd angles, in desperate need of an update—or
at least a coat of paint. She’d get around to that... eventually. She turned to the cat yammering at her feet. “Are you
hungry?”
The cat sang a chorus of meows while continuing to massage Dakota’s shins.
“I thought so.” She opened the cabinet door to retrieve the cat food, and the hinges came off, sending the cabinet door and
her arm sailing onto the counter with a thwack . Dakota blinked and then grimaced. Great. Just what she needed: something else to fix. But she’d have to worry about that
later. She couldn’t take on one more task until her store issues were handled.
She picked up Trouble’s bowl and filled it with canned food. Tonight’s flavor was Tuna Delight. Yucky smelling, but Trouble
loved it. “Enjoy,” she said, setting the dish in front of him.
He purred and dug in.
Dakota made her way down the short hallway to her bedroom. When she stepped inside, she kicked off her heels and then halted.
“Oh no!”
Sheets of toilet paper decorated the floor. She brushed her hand down her face, turned toward the open bathroom door, and
groaned. How could she have forgotten to close the bathroom door this morning? Trouble loved dragging toilet tissue all over
the room.
She picked up the mess, but when she entered the bathroom, her mouth dropped open. The cat not only had wasted an entire roll of paper but also had pulled the toilet paper holder out of the drywall. If only Dakota had fixed the loose holder sooner. It was her fault for letting it get to that point. She leaned against the doorjamb. She had enough problems to work out at the store, and she had no budget or time to fix her house.
After placing a roll of paper on the back of the toilet tank, she closed the bathroom door. She’d worry about fixing the holder
another day. Right now all she wanted was to put up her sore feet after working late into the evening, trying to salvage more
gowns.
Dakota changed out of her skirt and sweater and pulled on her favorite yoga pants and gray hoodie before returning to the
kitchen. When she found her cat taking a bath in the corner, she wagged a finger at him. “Trouble, you’re a bad kitty. I cleaned
up the mess, but you need a time-out.”
The cat ignored her and continued licking his paws.
With a sigh, she opened the fridge and pulled out the chef’s salad left over from yesterday’s lunch. She wished she had more
time for cooking an actual meal. And cleaning. And doing yard work in the spring and summer.
Dakota plopped down on her sofa, rested her aching feet on her coffee table, flipped on the television, and chewed a forkful
of salad. Opening the messages on her phone, she looked at the few she had traded with Parker during the past week. They’d
mostly made small talk about how glad they were March was here and the weather was finally starting to warm up a little. But
she hadn’t committed to seeing him again.
She frowned, set down her phone, and pulled out the sketch she’d created for Layla’s dress, continuing her dinner as she studied the drawing. As her thoughts moved to Layla and her wedding plans, she couldn’t help but think of Hudson too. She hoped he wouldn’t come back to Flowering Grove until the wedding. If he did, she’d have to find a way to avoid him.
Dakota took another bite of salad as another thought hit her: Hudson Garrity had always been so career- and money-driven that
perhaps he wouldn’t bother to show up for the wedding at all.
And that would be fine with her.
***
Hudson steered his SUV down Main Street in Flowering Grove, his headlights guiding his way past the landmarks that had painted
the backdrop of his life from his childhood until he’d moved away seven years ago.
He motored past the Barbecue Pit restaurant, where he’d eaten more meals than he could count, then the library where Aunt
Trudy took him and Layla every Saturday afternoon when she didn’t have to work. In the distance he spotted the sign for Vet’s
Field, where he’d attended the Fourth of July fireworks every year until he moved north.
He merged onto Lincoln Avenue and drove past Ridge Road, the street that led to the home where he lived for a couple of years
before his parents died. He could still remember every detail of that little house his parents had rented—the chipped gray
paint on the front porch, the worn beige carpet in the family room, and the creaky stairs that led up to his small bedroom,
where he’d lined up his Star Wars figures on the wooden shelves. He could almost hear the sound of his mother singing to his
sister as she rocked her to sleep in the next room, and his father’s laugh while they played catch in the small backyard.
Hudson pushed that image out of his thoughts and flipped on his right blinker before turning onto Zimmer Avenue. He stopped at a stop sign and drummed the steering wheel to the beat of a country music song playing on the radio. It felt strange to be back in Flowering Grove, especially in March. For the past several years he’d managed to come for just a few days at Christmas, but now he was planning an extended visit.
Hudson gripped the wheel. He hadn’t yet decided on the best way to talk his sister out of her crazy idea of getting married.
Since he couldn’t get through to her over the phone, he hoped discussing it with her in person would help her see she was
making a huge mistake. Maybe she would listen to the voice of reason if they were sitting in the same room together. And if
she insisted on getting married, then maybe he could convince her to postpone the wedding for a year—or maybe even two.
As he steered into his aunt’s driveway, his headlights swept across her white Cape Cod–style home. The paint on the house
and the gray shutters were starting to show their age, and he made a mental note to have the house painted this spring.
He slipped his gray Infiniti QX80 into Park. His best friend and business partner, Darren, liked to remind him that the Infiniti
was completely unnecessary since they lived in Manhattan. Still, the SUV was one of the few splurges Hudson had allowed himself
since he’d become a CEO. He enjoyed his spacious, four-bedroom apartment with its balcony and spectacular views in a great
building, along with tailored designer suits, which were necessary in his line of work. Other than that, his money was invested,
saved, provided to his aunt and sister, or given to his favorite charities.
He climbed from the SUV and trotted up the front steps. Just as he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open. His aunt
stared up at him from across the threshold. “Hudson,” she exclaimed. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“After the way my last conversation ended with my sister, I thought I’d better come see her in person.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you’re here.”
He allowed his aunt to pull him in for a warm hug, and he breathed in her comforting scent—Bengay mixed with baby powder.
It seemed like only yesterday that he had to stand on his tiptoes to hug her, but ever since he’d hit his full height of six
foot three at the age of nineteen, he’d adapted to bending to meet her five-foot-four height.
She patted his cheek. More wrinkles lined his aunt’s bright-hazel eyes, and her medium-brown hair was highlighted with more
gray, but she insisted her spirit was much younger than sixty-five. “I suppose you’re here to discuss her wedding plans?”
“That’s right.” He glanced at Layla’s gray Toyota Camry, which he’d purchased for her last year when her older Hyundai started
having problems. Then he met his aunt’s curious expression. “Is she home?”
“Right now she’s on the phone. She’ll be so surprised to see you.” She beckoned him into the house. “Bring in your luggage.
I’ll make up the cot in the craft room for you, just like we do at Christmas.”
“Thanks, but I booked an Airbnb a few blocks from here.”
Aunt Trudy’s eyes lit with excitement. “You’re back to stay for a while?”
“Possibly.” They fell into step on their way inside the house. “Darren and I are in the process of finalizing the sale of
the company, and I have a few offers on the table for my next position. I figured I’d spend some time here before I decide
what to do next.”
Aunt Trudy rubbed his bicep. “Maybe you’ll decide to stay in Flowering Grove.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, but I’ll be here for longer than usual.”
“I guess I’ll take what I can get.”
He followed his aunt into the small family room, where Layla was sprawled on the sofa, her cell phone to her ear. When her
blue eyes met his, they rounded.
“I have to let you go,” she said into the phone. “My brother is here. Love you too, Shane.” She disconnected the call and
dropped her phone onto the sofa beside her. “Are you here to tell me what a jerk you’ve been and how sorry you are for hurting
my feelings?”
Hudson sank into the armchair across from her and rested his elbows on his knees. Normally Layla was happy to see him during
his brief holiday visits, but she was obviously still upset with him. She hadn’t responded to his voicemails or text messages
since she’d hung up on him last week. While her silence pricked at his heart, he still hadn’t changed his mind—she was too
immature to get married, and he was here to tell her so whether she wanted to hear it or not.
“Layla...” He sighed. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
He licked his lips. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“You are?” She sat up straight.
“But I don’t approve of this wedding.” He hated seeing his baby sister’s face fall, but she was moving way too fast. Again. Layla had a bad habit of finding “true love” every other week. Sure, Shane had stuck around the longest, but Layla was a
hopeless romantic—emphasis on hopeless —who picked out baby names after a first date. She also had a terrible habit of giving her true loves money—a situation Hudson
had bailed her out of more than once.
Aside from that, Shane had a sketchy past. Layla had told Hudson that Shane had been kicked out of school for drugs and alcohol
and fighting—all of which didn’t make him the best choice for a husband. “I’m here to talk some sense into you.”
Her blue eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t need you to talk sense into me.”
“Layla,” he began, his voice holding a hint of warning, “remember what you put Aunt Trudy and me through when you were in
high school? You made some pretty bad decisions back then.”
His sister hopped up to her feet. “You’re bringing that up now?”
He stood, looking down at her. “You ran around with the wrong crowd and got into a lot of trouble back then. How am I supposed
to trust your judgment after all of that?”
Her face turned as red as a tomato. “That was seven years ago, Hud. How dare you hold that against me? I’m not the same person
I was.”
“You were impulsive back then, and you’re being impulsive now. You haven’t known Shane that long. Three months is a blip in
time, and marriage is a big commitment. I think you should date him for a while longer and see where it goes.”
Aunt Trudy touched her chin, her gaze bouncing from Layla to Hudson and back again.
Layla’s hands balled into tight fists. “I don’t need your lectures or your advice. I’m a grown woman, and I’ve made my decision.”
She pointed to the door. “Why don’t you just go back to New York City where you belong?” Then she turned and bounded up the
stairs to her bedroom before slamming her door.
Silence filled the den. Hudson kneaded his forehead, a headache brewing behind his eyes. This might have gone even worse than
expected.
Aunt Trudy sighed from across the room and took a seat on the sofa. “You know you have to let her grow up, Hud. She’s a young
woman now, and she knows what she wants.”
“She’s not ready to get married.”
“How do you know that?”
He rubbed his eyes. “I helped raise her, remember?”
His aunt’s expression warmed. “And I raised you both.”
He sat down again and rested his hands on his lap. He should have known that lecturing her wasn’t going to work. After all,
it hadn’t worked last week on the phone.
He didn’t want to lose his sister. He also wasn’t going to win this argument. As Layla’s older brother, he believed it was
his duty to pay for her wedding—but he would have to make it clear he couldn’t support her choices in good conscience. Perhaps
he could help her see the light before her wedding day and stop her from ruining her future.
He stood and started for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” his aunt called after him.
“To fix this.”
Outside his sister’s bedroom, Hudson knocked on the door and waited.
“What do you want?” Layla called from inside her room.
He leaned against the door. “Look, I don’t approve of this wedding.”
“You’ve made that crystal clear. Now go away.”
Hudson looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. As much as he hated to do this, he made the pledge: “But I’ll pay for
it.”
There was a beat of silence before footsteps sounded. Then the door opened. “You will?”
He nodded.
Layla studied him. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind and you’ll give us your blessing?”
He shook his head. “No. I think you’re rushing into this.”
“But you’ll pay for it anyway?” she asked. When he nodded again in response, she pulled him in for a hug. “Thank you.”
“Truce?” he asked.
“Truce.” She smiled, and relief filtered through him. “You’ll change your mind about my wedding, Hud. I know you will.”
I doubt that.
Layla took his arm and yanked him toward the stairs. “We have a coffee cake, and I’ll make your favorite coffee too.”
They made their way to the kitchen, where she brewed three cups of coffee in the Keurig. Soon the three of them were drinking
coffee and eating cake together.
Hudson pulled out his phone and began making a to-do list for his aunt’s house, adding Find a local paint company to the top.
“You’re working now?” Layla asked.
He shook his head. “I’m making a list of what needs to be done around here. I noticed the house could use a fresh coat of
paint. If you know of a local company who can take care of it in the spring, I’ll pay for it.” He picked up his mug of coffee
and grinned at his aunt. “Unless, of course, you’ll let me buy you a nice condo, which would mean no maintenance.” He was
determined to spoil his aunt, even though she repeatedly turned down his offers.
Aunt Trudy remained silent and sipped her coffee.
“We could find you one where all of the upkeep is included, so you won’t need to worry about finding someone to mow the yard.
The really nice ones have fitness centers and a lot of social activities too,” he added.
She swallowed a bite of cake and shook her head. “I don’t need a fancy condo. This is where I raised you two, and it’s enough
for me.”
“We’ll talk about it later then.” Maybe he’d just buy her a condo and then insist she move in. That might work. “What about
a new car?” he asked. “Your Honda is starting to show its age.”
She pressed her lips together. “There’s nothing wrong with my car, and I happen to like it.”
Layla turned to her brother. “How long are you staying?” she asked.
“At least until the wedding.”
“Oh. That’s good.” She folded her hands. “I found a wedding dress today.” Her face seemed to glow as she explained how she
wanted a dress that looked like their mother’s, but instead had found a similar one to have altered.
“How much money do you need for it?”
Layla shared a look with their aunt and then told him the price.
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and opened it. “Use my card to pay for it.”
“I’d like to pay for part of it.”
“Don’t be silly.” He held his black credit card out to Layla. “Take it.”
“No, you always pay for every—”
“Layla, Mom and Dad would want me to take care of you. I’ll pay for the dress.”
His sister’s brow wrinkled. “I can’t get to the store until later this week.”
“No problem.” He pushed the card back into his wallet and shoved it into his pocket. “I need to run some errands tomorrow
anyway. Tell me where the shop is, and I’ll take care of the dress.”
Layla turned to their aunt, and Aunt Trudy gave Layla a quick nod. Then Layla turned back to Hudson with a sly smile. “That’s
a wonderful idea, Hud.”
Had his sister’s attitude just done a one-eighty? He cocked an eyebrow as suspicion filled him. “Am I missing something?”
“No, no.” Layla’s smile was bright. “I found the gown at Fairytale Bridal. It’s on Main Street between Miller’s Dry Cleaners and Swanson’s Hardware, near Treasure Hunting Antique Mall.” Her expression warmed. “Thank you for offering to pay. It means a lot to me.”
“Of course.” He cut himself another piece of cake. “How’s work?”
“Great,” she said. “We’ve been getting a lot of new patients, which doesn’t surprise me since Dr. Warner is an excellent dentist.”
Hudson took another crumbly bite and studied his sister. “Have you ever thought about going to dental school?”
“No.” Layla laughed, then sobered as if surprised he wasn’t laughing too. “Why?”
“So you can stay in a field you enjoy but make more money. If you want to go to dental school, I can—”
“I don’t want to be a dentist. I love my job as a hygienist. I enjoy helping the patients and working with Dr. Warner. And
even if I did want to go to dental school, I’d figure out a way to afford it myself,” she said, her tone growing terse.
He set his fork down. “Layla, you have so much potential. You could become a dentist and then own your own practice. I could
help you set it up.”
“Hud,” she began, leaning forward on the table, “believe it or not, not everyone wants to be the boss. And besides that, I
don’t need you to take care of me for the rest of my life. I can take care of myself.”
***
Irritation coursed through Hudson on his drive to the Airbnb. His whole purpose in coming to Flowering Grove had been to stop
his sister’s wedding, but so far his sister was staying her course. She also dismissed his career advice, and his aunt rebuffed
his offer of buying her a new condo or car. Nothing had gone right this evening.
When he reached the rental house, Hudson parked in the driveway. The large colonial on Oak Street was more than he needed, but it was the only Airbnb in Flowering Grove available for an extended stay.
He climbed out of his vehicle and looked toward the small house next door, where a blue Ford sedan sat out front. A warm yellow
glow in the front window illuminated an orange cat lounging on the sill. Hudson shook his head. He couldn’t imagine what it
would feel like to not have a care in the world.
He gathered up his backpack and two suitcases and unlocked the front door with the keypad. With most of his stuff in storage
and his apartment being sublet to a friend, he just had the basics with him. As he made his way through the large foyer, the
house was still and quiet. Too quiet. He was used to the hustle and bustle of the big city, and silence unnerved him.
He climbed the stairs and found the master bedroom down the hall, past three large bedrooms and a bathroom. He began unpacking,
grateful to have left most of his custom-made Armani suits behind. Although they were essential to his line of work as a CEO,
he was still most comfortable in jeans. He supposed that was due to his upbringing in a small town with mostly blue-collar
workers. He was grateful for the luxury of providing for his family, but he would never forget where he came from.
While hanging the two suits he’d brought with him in the closet, he wondered what it would be like to take the offer and move
to Bahrain. Did he want to be that far way? If something happened to his aunt, it would take hours to get home.
But he couldn’t even think about that right now. First he had to deal with his sister—and considering how the day had gone,
convincing her to cancel her wedding was going to be even more complicated than he’d imagined.