Chapter 27
Penny
Monday comes and goes in a blur, meaning I’m left scrambling on Monday night to prepare for book club.
The broken computer thing is really putting a damper on all the good things happening in my life because I have to manually track all my sales and stock with either my phone or a physical notebook. It’s been quite the headache.
What’s not a headache is the number of sales that have been streaming in due to another viral post.
Today I featured the stalker romance that Monty and I have been buddy reading. He sent me a few texts about it throughout the day, though I was quick to remind him that he’s supposed to be writing. I’m still giddy after everything that happened this weekend.
My hand reaches for the necklace he bought me and I suck in a quick breath, trying not to get ahead of myself. He is just practicing how to be a good book boyfriend, like he told me.
Still, when I look down at it, I can’t help but think of the flames on his chest. And the words that he whispered as he sunk inside me. How I belong right there.
And now I’m sweating because the thought of Monty thrusting deep inside me has my cheeks flaming and my panties soaked.
I shake my head, turning my attention back to the phone in my hand.
apennyforyourbooks: Book boyfriend and I are currently buddy reading this gem! Tell me, who’s your favorite stalker book boyfriend?
theredheadedsmut: A man with a mask who doesn’t speak? Sign me up! Oh and if he uses rope and calls me a dirty little reader, total Zaddy!
I giggle at the comments—this girl is hysterical.
“What are you laughing at?” Rosie’s voice startles me as I turn to find her staring over my shoulder.
“Shit. How did you get in here?” I pull my phone to my chest. “You scared me.”
Rosie raises a red eyebrow, her violet eyes dancing in delight.
“Oh, and now she’s hiding what she was laughing at,” she says to my sister, who snuck in with her. The rest of book club will be arriving shortly.
“How did you guys get in here without the bell sounding above the door?” I glance toward the front of the shop and spot Billie with a case of wine in her arms.
Tally turns around to help her, but not before calling over her shoulder, “Oh, it rang! You were just so interested in whatever was on your phone that you didn’t hear it. Was it a text from Monty?”
“It was work,” I reply quickly. “Orders have been crazy lately.”
Tally’s eyes widen. “Ah! That’s awesome, Penny.”
Her excitement makes my own burn even brighter. Just like last year, when my sister baked a wedding cake that went viral online and I pushed her to use that to open her own business, I know she’ll always be there to support me, too.
The truth is, a lot has changed over the past year and I’m starting to think maybe I have changed, too.
Part of that change is due to my engagement ending.
But another part is due to losing my father and then gaining back my sister.
Dad’s dying shattered our world, but having Tally come home has helped to put us together again, piece by piece.
Small changes I’ve made have had a significant impact, too. Like the creation of my Bookstagram account and finding my own footing in my career. Discovering what I want in a relationship through reading. And now Monty.
The past month may have caused some of the biggest shifts of all: the stupid smile that won’t leave my face whenever I think of him, and my newfound confidence. Normally, I wear oversized sweaters in a bid to hide my full shape. But tonight, I’ve left the cardigan upstairs.
I turn my attention back to the girls.
“Things are really starting to look up for the shop. Monty actually arranged to have one of my favorite authors come to town for the pumpkin picking event. I’m hoping I can order some books to have her sign afterward for an in-store signing.
” I take a moment to look around the small space.
“Then again, I doubt everyone could fit in here.”
“Maybe we could host something with the brewery after the pumpkin picking.” Rosie beams. “We could call it Books and Brews?”
“Ah, I love that idea,” Billie squeals. “I could handle the event setup if you’re serious about it?”
“We could do a dessert cocktail hour,” Tally suggests. “All fall themed.”
“It’s only two weeks away.” Tears prick my eyes at their enthusiasm. “You’d all seriously help?”
“Of course we would.” My sister rushes toward me and wraps her arm around my shoulders. “It would be amazing.”
“Oh God, I love you girls,” I mutter, hugging her.
“Remember that when Babs gets here tonight,” Rosie cuts in. “Because it is my mission to get them to help me put a hex on the mayor.”
I cough out a laugh as Billie smacks her hand to her forehead. “Rosie! You’re going to get the brewery shut down!”
Rosie rolls her eyes. “He wishes.”
“Speaking of available men,” Tally says with a gleam in her eye. “Did you guys see the Oakley brothers the other day? I forgot how hot Rowan Oakley is.”
“Are you sure you don’t just like the idea of his handcuffs?” Rosie teases my sister.
“I’m a happily taken woman,” Tally says, glancing at Billie. “But my boyfriend’s sister…”
“Oh no. I’m not—nope.” Billie shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to do with someone and handcuffs.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Rosie says decisively. “Rowan is the marrying type. Our Billie needs a fling.”
“Oh no, I’m good,” Billie says meekly. “Quinn keeps me plenty busy.”
“And Quinn would be fine spending the night with his favorite uncle and me.” Tally softens. “You’re allowed to date, Billie.”
“Could you imagine my brother’s reaction if he found out he was watching Quinn so I could go have a one-night stand?”
“Who said anything about sex!” Tally squeals.
“Sex is exactly what she needs.” Rosie rolls her eyes. “Dirty, spank me, Daddy sex. But like I said, Rowan is a relationship guy. She needs someone like Eli Davis. You know, someone to welcome her back into the saddle.”
Billie laughs. “I’m not calling anyone Daddy.”
“It’s strange that’s where your fantasy goes,” I say to Rosie. “Considering the only Daddy I can think of is a certain mayor you claim to hate.”
Rosie fakes a gag and the rest of us laugh, interrupted only by the bell jangling, announcing the Liberty Ladies’ arrival. I spot my mother among the group and wave her over to join us.
When I woke up on Sunday morning at the farm, she had a spread of pancakes ready and waiting.
Tally and Walker joined us for breakfast outside at the picnic table.
The fresh fall air and the sounds of my family talking over one another, laughing and eating until we were so full we could barely move, was exactly what I needed.
We spent the rest of the morning working on the maze, dragging bales of hay into a weird shape Tally swore would look like a carved pumpkin from the sky.
Who the hell is ever going to test out that theory?
Not a single Hope Harbor resident. But Tally will know, and I guess that’s good enough for Walker.
“So what did everyone bring?” Babs asks once everyone is settled around the candle-making table.
“I brought the napkin Fletcher used this week at the brewery,” Rosie says.
Rayna’s head whips sideways. “Are you trying to date the mayor?”
Rosie’s sarcastic laugh quiets the entire room. She’s struggling to breathe as she grabs Rayna’s arm. “Oh, don’t say funny things like that!” she wheezes out. “I can’t breathe!”
She’s still laughing when Tally holds up a piece of paper. “I brought my acceptance letter from the New England Culinary Institute.” My sister blows out a breath. “I am trying to accept that I don’t need a degree to do great things.”
I flash Tally the biggest smile. For so long she was convinced that she wasn’t good enough, that she needed that degree to open a bakery, and that she couldn’t come home until she had it.
I had no idea that’s how she felt until this past spring, but with a little help from Walker, a few honest conversations, and a viral cake, she realized that she didn’t have to keep waiting to start her life.
“That’s an excellent use of the candle.” Viola beams before turning to Billie. “And what did you bring?”
Billie rolls her fingers over the smooth silky fabric in her hand that’s the size of a thumbnail.
“A piece of my son’s blanket from when he was a baby.
” A few of the women cluck their tongues and Billie’s cheeks go pink at their reactions.
“It’s in pieces. I’ve got plenty of them saved.
” I squeeze her hand, letting her know I have her back, and she continues.
“But I think it’s time I realize I’m more than just a mother. ”
Warmth floods my cheeks. “You are,” I say gently.
“Of course you are,” my mother echoes. Then, moving the attention off Billie, she adds, “I brought a LEGO I stepped on today.”
Her face creases in pain and I know this is hard for her.
My father had a bit of an obsession with LEGO.
He made so many sets, and there was always an extra piece or two that he didn’t know what to do with.
Inevitably Mom would step or sit on one.
“I miss my husband like crazy but I really did hate that habit of his.”
Both Tally and I laugh though there are tears in our eyes.
Even a few months ago, I don’t think my mother would have had the strength to admit that.
It’s hard to smile through the pain, yet sometimes that’s the best we can do.
Losing a parent is a dull ache that never truly goes away, but I can’t begin to imagine how my mother handles the loss of her partner.
The person she told everything to, and the one person who would do anything to see her smile.
I think of Monty—how I haven’t been able to get him out of my head since he arrived back in town—and my throat tightens.
“And what about you, Penny?” Babs challenges. “What did you bring?”
The truth is, I didn’t keep much from my relationship with Dick. There was no old sweatshirt of his I stole to bring me comfort—because Richard never was my comfort. I know now that I stayed with him for so long because I was more scared of being single and alone than I was of being unhappy.
I still have my engagement ring, though I don’t want to put that in a candle. Somehow it feels like it would be preserving him in my story. Dick doesn’t deserve another sentence when he already stole so many of my words.
If tonight is about me moving forward, then I need to make this candle about me. About my insecurities, which made me feel like accepting mediocre love from someone else was better than trying to love myself.
As I searched for something to burn today, I realized that I have already come so far. Choosing this store, choosing me, when Dick told me neither was good enough, was the beginning of loving myself again.
So now, I hold up the key to the bookstore. It’s the original one I was given when I first signed the lease. The lock has since been changed but this key represents the first time I put myself first. And I hope that this candle will be a reminder that I always will.
***
Two hours later, the store smells like a bouquet of flowers from all the wax.
Tonight was a good night—filled with lots of laughter and stories.
I learned that Rayna’s husband died almost thirty-five years ago and she never remarried or dated again—he was her soulmate, she said, and she never met anyone who made her want to try again.
Rayna then told me that, though she doesn’t regret her decision to remain single, she wants me to experience what she and my mother had.
I know she’s right. And now I appreciate the effort she’s made.
“But now you have Monty,” she told me with a warm smile.
And she’s right. For now, I do have Monty. I’m not going to worry about how long it will last—I’m just going to enjoy it.
The last of the girls left after helping me clean up and I cannot wait to get into bed. I turn the sign to Closed and double lock the front door before flicking off the lights, leaving only the glow above the register to guide me upstairs.
Just before I head up to the apartment, I give myself a moment to appreciate the quiet street. During the day, Maple Lane is a bustle of activity, but it’s peaceful now. I watch as the red and orange leaves on the maple trees that decorate the cobblestone sidewalks sway in the light breeze.
Everything is quiet—save the hooting of an owl—and I smile. God, I love this town. Almost as much as I love the magic of this time of year.
My moment of tranquility is interrupted when I hear the deep echo of a breath from somewhere inside the shop. The smile slips from my lips as the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.
“Hello,” I call out tentatively.
I search my immediate area for anything to protect myself and curse when I realize I don’t have my phone, or anything sharp, to grab.
Shit.
I whimper as I hear another rasping breath and glance at the lock on the door.
The moment I reach for the handle, a hand wraps around my mouth and my scream is stolen from my lips as I’m slammed back into a hard chest.
“Don’t scream, Xuxuzinho.” The voice modulator has my pulse rolling through me like an electric wave, but, with that one word, I relax. “I’ve been watching you.”