Chapter 8
I adore so much about this town.
The setting itself. You can’t get much better than my current view on The Green Robin’s beach-facing back patio, where Chloe’s gathered us all for the third festival meeting.
The quirky characters. Like Earl Flanders and Alberta Jenkins, who are going at it right now like two toddlers fighting over an ice cream cone, and Uncle Burt, who’s busy entertaining a few other old timers with tall tales of past customers and his heroics in rescuing stranded motorists passing through town.
But most especially, I love the way this community welcomed me into the fold summer after summer as a kid, even when I was just a guest among them. It’s like they saw something in me that required comforting, and they became the safe haven I needed.
One thing I’m not a huge fan of, though? The way everyone knows your business. Don’t get me wrong—it can be endearing, and usually it just means they care.
But right now, I’m surrounded by all of my best friends—save Chloe, who is flitting around in preparation for the meeting, and Marilee, who is at work on this Thursday morning—and they’ve started asking me about something they’d know nothing about if we didn’t live in the tiniest of towns.
Because I certainly never would have brought it up.
“How are things going with your irritatingly good-looking new housemate?” Elisse’s smile is wicked in nature as she pushes her brown bobbed hair behind an ear.
“No comment.”
“I’m so jealous. Wanna switch?” My cousin April fans herself with an Abigail Fox novel that’s got a cute illustrated couple on the front. Looks like this one’s a hockey romcom. She’s always carrying a romance book around—which makes sense, given she’s both an aspiring author and works at The Bluestocking Bookshop in town. “My little housemate has been acting seven going on seventeen lately. When did kids get so moody, anyway?”
We all laugh. I reach over and squeeze her arm. “Believe me, I’d switch in a heartbeat, but something tells me Scarlett really does need her mama, even if she doesn’t act like it.” That something? It’s called experience. Take it from the girl whose own mom can be difficult to get ahold of. I know she’s having the time of her life gallivanting the globe with Kevin, and after all the sadness of losing my dad twenty years ago, I can’t blame her for having a little fun.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss her. Still, I don’t need to dwell on it, and fortunately, my friends don’t either.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean they’re ready to let talk of Blake die.
“So.” Kelsey grabs my arm and tugs me closer, her gentle voice a soothing balm after her twin sister’s teasing. “How is it going, really? I know how much you don’t care for him.”
“So she says,” Elisse’s voice singsongs. “What’s that saying? There’s a fine line between love and hate? And we all know how much you haaaaaate Blake Moffitt.”
“Shut up, Elisse.” April hip bumps her out of the way and nudges close to my other side. “Let Lucy tell us all the good stuff herself.”
“Good stuff?” I laugh. “This isn’t a romance novel, cuz.”
“I know.” Huffing, April pushes her red hair out of her eyes. She recently got bangs and, upon coming home from the salon, declared that she regretted her life choices. “Real life is never as good as the books. But let a girl fantasize vicariously through you for a moment, okay?”
That makes me chuckle again. These ladies are good for my soul. “There’s not much to tell—and definitely nothing to fantasize about. I’ve worked a lot of late nights, so we’ve pretty much missed each other at the house.”
Elisse frowns at me. “And by that you mean Marilee texts you when he heads to bed so you don’t accidentally run into him, right?”
“No, but that’s a fabulous idea. Because I’m not wasting any more energy on him.”
“Any more?” April latches onto the word with hope and a raised eyebrow.
“You guys are impossible.” I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the drama with the food truck.”
“Of course. It’s all over town, how Miss Sunshine herself got snarky with her best friend’s brother,” Elisse says in a low, saucy voice full of knowing.
I balk at her use of “Sunshine”—Blake’s stupid new nickname for me—and narrow my eyes at her. Does she know more than she’s letting on? Oy.
Either way, I hate how news of my lapse in emotional judgement spread so rapidly. At least I took my anger out on him in private the next time. Still, I wish he didn’t affect me at all. Lemons into lemonade, Lucy. You’re good at that. “He deserved it.” I try to infuse as much conviction into my tone as possible.
“Sure he did.” Elisse shoots me an exaggerated wink. “If I hadn’t been busy at the vineyard helping Mom get set up for photos this week, I’d have been to town to see you two go at it myself. Would have brought my popcorn, parked myself outside, and enjoyed the show.”
“Me too.” April laughs, then presses her lips together when she looks back at me. “I mean…”
Kelsey just squeezes my arm again.
I dash a grateful look her way. “You’d have all been sorely disappointed, because after I set him straight last week and talked sense into the people waiting in his line, the Robin has been flooded with guests again, and I haven’t said a word to him.”
I can’t tell you how extremely satisfying it’s been to see his line dwindle after Memorial Day weekend. It was so good to know I’ve done something right, that—even though I may not have grand aspirations of opening my own business someday like Chloe and Marilee, and I’m not building a family legacy like Kelsey and Elisse or writing books like April—I’ve at least helped my community. I’ve provided some sort of service to Winona, who is depending on me.
And it doesn’t hurt that I brought Blake a little kick in the pants too.
“In fact,” I continue, “I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of Blake anymore. He’s probably already contemplating whether to pull the plug and leave town.” Do I really believe it? No. He doesn’t strike me as someone who will give up easily. Then again, what’s Hallmark Beach to him, really? If he finds himself facing too much opposition here, I can see him pulling up stakes and heading to the nearest place that will give him the opportunity for success.
That’s all that matters to him anyway.
“I don’t know, friend.” Kelsey’s turned her attention to the back doorway that leads out to the patio. “That doesn’t look like someone ready to leave.”
I follow her line of vision and hold back a sigh. Because there’s Blake, channeling a used car salesman as he shakes hands with folks—those he’s known all his life and a few newer faces to town, including Chloe’s boyfriend, Frederick—and offers a smile.
Once again, there’s something forced or uncomfortable in it, but he’s schmoozing with the best of them. Apparently, he’s figured out where he stands in Hallmark Beach and must be looking to change his reputation by volunteering and endearing himself to the community.
It’s a brilliant move, and I hate him for it.
“Excuse me,” I say to my friends as I push through the crowd, grab his arm, and tug him away from the group. “What are you doing here?”
“Do you mind?” Blake stares down at where my hand is touching his bare forearm.
Unwanted electricity shoots through me, and I pull my hand back to myself, flexing it. “Sorry.” Dang it. I don’t need to be apologizing to him. I straighten. “I mean…” Ugh, why is talking suddenly such a flustering activity? “I-I know what you’re doing here.”
“Funny.” He pins me with a look while absently rubbing the spot on his arm where I touched him. “You just asked me, and now you suddenly know?” There’s a tic in his jaw that draws my attention. And not because it makes his whole profile more intense. More chiseled. Nope.
I’ve been staring—gawking—too long. “I know, because I know you, Flake. You want to pretend like you care about this place, so you’re at this meeting as some sort of goodwill gesture.” I fold my arms over my chest. “But we don’t want you here.”
“You aren’t the authority on all things Hallmark Beach, Sunshine.” He pushes a hand through his hair, which doesn’t budge an inch. The move is so nonchalant, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like this conversation is just a pesky blip on the barometer of his day. “Need I remind you who was actually born in this town? So thanks for trying to speak for everyone else, but I belong here just as much as—if not more than—you do.”
“Being born here isn’t everything.” I lean in, my voice sizzling. But I smile, because I know Elisse and company are watching—and her quip about the line between love and hate is reverberating around in my brain. If she knew our complete history, she’d never let me hear the end of it. Best to let all thoughts of me ever having loved Blake Moffitt die a painful death right here and now.
So, with a sickly-sweet tone, I manage to keep a straight face devoid of the grimace I really want to display. “It’s the ones who stick around who are the true citizens of Hallmark Beach.”
His face twists, and for a moment, I feel the tiniest inkling of guilt. But he deserves my ire. Doesn’t he?
“Hey, Blake.”
We both startle and turn to find Thomas standing there. Today he’s wearing a bright orange polo that matches his hair. His attention shifts to me. “Hi, Luce.” His cheeks pink up a bit. “I saved you a seat.”
“Oh, thanks, Thomas. That was really thoughtful.”
He nods once, twice.
Blake just glares at him. What in the world? What’s he got against Thomas? Sure, the guy is a little…enthusiastic. But he’s polite and sweet, which is more than I can say for Flake over here. Besides, Thomas is the one who actually stood up to me for Blake when he arrived. You’d think Blake would be his biggest fan.
Thankfully, Thomas doesn’t seem to notice the daggers Blake is shooting his way. “When I saw you show up, Blake, I approached Chloe and told her we’d love to have you on our committee.”
Hold the phone. “We what?” I practically screech.
Blake shakes his head. “Oh, that’s really nice, bu?—”
“Here’s my brilliant Picnic Team!” Speaking of the princess, she appears out of thin air like some sort of good fairy. Except if it’s true she assigned Blake to my group, she’s dead to me. Well, not really, but she’d best have a good reason for her betrayal since she knows how I feel about him.
She claps twice and turns around. “All right, friends, it’s about time to start the meeting. Please find your seats with your fellow committee members, and we’ll begin shortly.”
Then she faces us again and holds out her hand to Blake. “Chloe Huntington. You’re Marilee’s brother, yes? It’s wonderful to meet you.”
Blake, to his credit, doesn’t seem to be affected by Chloe’s royal blood. He merely shakes her hand and says, “Nice to meet you too.”
“Brilliant. I’m guessing Thomas informed you already, but since you’re one of our fellow foodies, I’d appreciate your help on the picnic committee.”
“Yeah, of course.” He glances at me briefly, then looks away. “Wherever I’m needed.”
“Great,” I say with extremely false enthusiasm.
Thomas leads Blake away, toward our table by the railing, and Chloe turns an eye to me. “Well, that was some of the hottest chemistry I’ve ever seen.”
My nose scrunches. “What are you talking about?”
“The two of you. I was about to spontaneously combust watching you from over there. I can’t imagine how you feel.” She touches my arm then pulls back. “Ooo, yes, you’re warm. Very warm.” Then she laughs.
“All right, you’ve had your fun.” I push her just a tad.
From out of nowhere, her bodyguard Tia appears at my elbow.
Chloe rolls her eyes. “Seriously, Tia, we’ve talked about this. She’s my mate. Americans shove each other in love all the time. It’s just the way they show affection.”
“It’s a blasted stupid way if you ask me,” the woman mumbles. But she moves back against the railing nonetheless.
Frederick takes the opportunity to swoop in. “Princess, love.” He places his hand on the small of her back, smiling, and whispers something in her ear.
She giggles and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Later, yeah?”
“If you insist.” With a wink, he turns to me. “Lucy.”
“Freddy.” I can’t help but smile. The two of them are couple goals all the way.
If I had couple goals, anyway.
A love like they share is wonderful, I’m sure. But as I saw when my dad died, it can also break a person open when the one you love the most in the world leaves—willingly or not.
Frederick gives me a nod, squeezes Chloe’s waist again, and heads back to the crowd, helping people find their seats and get situated. The way he supports his girlfriend is just the sweetest.
“I’m so happy for you, you know.” And I really am. I may not have been there at the very beginning of their love story—which started when they were much younger—but I got a sideline view of them admitting their feelings for each other. It was, and continues to be, a beautiful thing. A scary thing. But a beautiful one to be sure.
“Thank you.” Chloe spontaneously gives me a hug. How have we only known each other a few months? I seriously feel like she’s a sister to me. One with way more fashion sense and poise than I’ll ever have. But a sister all the same. “I want you to be just as happy as me.” A pause. “You sure there’s nothing between you and Mare’s brother?”
Somehow, my eyes find Blake with ease.
I startle to see him looking back at me.
We stare at each other for a good few seconds before I pull my gaze back to Chloe. Clear my throat. “Nothing but supreme dislike.” That, and a lot of baggage.
And words that can never be unsaid.
“And you’re sure that dislike can never become…like?”
I press my fingernails into the palms of my hands. “I’m sure.”
Because if I ever did let down my guard—if I ever did let Blake back in—I’m not sure the walls I’ve erected could hold back the tidal wave of emotions I’ve managed to keep at bay until now.
And the flood that ensued would be sure to decimate anything good I’ve managed to build in the wake of his leaving.
Hating him is far easier.