Chapter 14
Monty
Me: Are you still mad at me?
Penny: Define mad.
I chuckle. So she’s not that upset. Honestly, this was the best-case scenario.
Now everyone knows and she avoided becoming the next bachelorette.
And to top it all off, afterward, Rayna told us the Liberty Ladies would be happy to handle planning for the Maple Festival so that we could focus on our “burgeoning love.”
Truly a win-win in my book.
Also, I’m the only one dating Penny. Well, fake dating her, but still.
“Could you tell your father dinner will be ready in thirty minutes?” Vovo asks from her spot by the stove.
I nod and shove my phone into my pocket, not sure yet how I want to respond to Penny.
My father was quite surprised to learn there was a town meeting last night. He said Vovo told him it was canceled, though she claims he must have misheard her.
But Dad wasn’t sad to learn the Liberty Ladies would be taking over planning of the Maple Festival. Apparently, they were always second-guessing the plans, so he figures they might as well just run it.
When I knock on my father’s door, he tells me to come in, but the room is empty when I enter.
I haven’t been in my father’s room since it became only his room almost ten years ago.
So I’m surprised that it’s almost exactly as it was back then.
The only difference I notice is that the nightstand on my mother’s side of the bed is empty except for a single lamp.
It used to be covered in strewn papers from her clients’ books. And a novel or two.
That familiar pang that hits whenever I think of my parents’ divorce clangs heavily in my chest.
“Vovo says dinner will be ready in thirty,” I say loudly, assuming he’s in the bathroom.
When he replies from the other side of the room, I jump. “Sounds good.”
He’s seated in a wingback chair in the corner, a book in hand and his feet up on an ottoman. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No worries,” I offer. “I’ll let you get back to reading.”
He smiles and then turns back to his book. That’s when I spot the picture on the small table next to him. It’s of my mother. Just my mother.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I jerk my gaze from the photo and force a smile. “Just tired, I guess. I think I’ll go get some fresh air before dinner.”
My father stares at me for a beat before I turn on my heel. I take the steps down to the foyer two at a time and then sneak out the back before Vovo spots me to call my mother.
I’m not sure what I think I’ll learn from her. As far as I know, she and my father have only spoken twice since the divorce: once when I graduated college, and then again when we celebrated the release of my first book.
“Jake.” My mother answers the phone with affection in her tone.
“Hey, Ma, how you doing?”
The moment I hit the lush verdant grass and feel the cool breeze that floats off the bay, I relax.
“Just leaving the office. Going out with a few colleagues for cocktails.”
“Oh, I won’t keep you, then,” I say. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“And what are your plans tonight?”
“I’m hoping to get some writing done.” Though I haven’t seen Penny since I claimed her at the town meeting, her magic is still working on me. I wrote another six thousand words today and I’m hoping to get even more done tonight.
“Does that mean I’m getting more of Willa and Jasper?”
“I take it you’re enjoying them?” I hedge, nervous and excited that this story feels so different from anything I’ve ever written. I sent her the first few chapters this morning, but I’m not surprised she’s already read them.
“I’m loving them. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. The chemistry from the moment he found her in his bedroom in chapter one! Ah, I’m obsessed.”
My heart gallops at the mention of the book’s opening. And the muse behind it. “Good, I should have another few chapters for you tomorrow.”
“Don’t work too hard. It’s okay to have some fun, you know.”
“I know, Ma. I miss you.”
“And I miss you, too. I was thinking maybe I’d come visit in a few weeks.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, fall in Hope Harbor was always sort of magical. Vovo said the Darling Farm has cottages now, too. Maybe I’ll rent one of those for a few weeks.”
I hesitate too long.
“Do you not want me to come visit?” she asks, her voice quieter now.
“No, it’s just…” I shake my head even though she can’t see me. First it was all the old photos still on display, then it was the picture of my mother in my father’s room. Now she wants to visit? “Will it be awkward?”
“Being in the same town as your father?” She sighs. “I don’t know, Jake. But I miss my son and if you really decide to stay there for a while—”
“I am, Mom,” I say quickly.
“We’ll see. If you keep writing Willa and Jasper’s story in the way you have been, you might have another New York Times bestseller on your hands.”
“Maybe…” I don’t want to speak too soon. I never imagined returning to Hope Harbor, let alone staying. But I don’t want to get her hopes up. Or mine. “All right, Ma. Dinner is almost ready. Let me know if you decide to come up. I’ll talk to you soon.”
We say our goodbyes and I stare out at the harbor. Something is off and I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Growing up, I loved love. Between my parents’ happy marriage and my grandparents’ lifelong devotion—I was surrounded by it. And Penny’s right, there was a time when I knew how to write love stories, too.
But then my world came crashing down. First, with my grandfather’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis and subsequent death. And then my father’s depression and my parents’ eventual divorce.
I swore off love. What’s the point if it always ends?
It’s been ten years and both my parents seem fine without love. Not always happy, but adjusted.
Since leaving Hope Harbor, I’ve dated, sure, but never had a real relationship. I’ve never met someone who made me want to risk the eventual pain. The minute I start to feel something real, I bail.
I try to ignore the thought that there’s always been one person who’s been my exception. But it doesn’t help, because as I close my eyes all I see are golden eyes and ivory skin.
Trying not to think too deep into it, I grab my phone, remembering I didn’t respond to her last text.
Me: Are you still mad at me?
Penny: Define mad.
Penny: There is a way you could make it up to me though.
I smile, wondering where she’s going with this.
Me: Anything.
Penny: I want to read your book.
I frown. Anything but that.
Me: When it’s done?
Penny: No. I want to read it as you write it. I think it will help me tailor our lessons.
My cock jumps at the thought, and I close my eyes on a curse. Fuck, she doesn’t mean those kind of lessons.
Penny: You said anything.
I sigh, knowing I’ll give her whatever she asks. I really do need her help.
Me: Deal. Anything else?
Penny: How long do we do this for?
I don’t want to think about an ending. I’m far too excited by the thought of a beginning. But an end date is good. It’ll remind me that she’s not actually mine.
Me: When is the Fall Ball?
Penny: November 15th.
Me: Okay. Let’s wait until then.
Penny: Right, so we do this through the Fall Ball. Then, since all the fall activities will be over, and everyone basically hibernates in the winter, we can just be seen out and about less. After Christmas, we’ll quietly let everyone know we decided to go back to being friends.
I scowl at the words even as I force myself to agree.
Me: Deal. If my mother has her way, I’ll be back in New York by winter anyway.
Penny: Oh. Okay. Well, I guess I better get started on some lesson plans.
Me: Why does that sound so sexy?
Penny: LOL. No one is monitoring our texts Monty. You don’t have to fake flirt with me now.
Who said anything about faking? But I don’t push it.
Me: I can’t wait to see what you come up with.