Chapter 13
IF YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT CATCHING MY COOTIES, I THINK IT’S TOO LATE.
DARCY
Elizabeth’s dad steps between me and his daughter, the smell of stale cigarettes clinging to him.
“I take it you’re turning that new place of yours into a fancy vacation rental like everyone else?
Or are you sticking around? Balsam Bay is probably too boring for a city slicker, eh?
” His throaty voice and the tone when he talks about the town, like it’s not already a great place, rub me the wrong way, and based on the way Beth’s shoulders rise to her ears, she doesn’t love it, either.
“From what I’ve seen, Balsam Bay seems pretty perfect.
It’s why I chose this hidden gem over more popular towns for my cottage.
” As I speak, the woman who’s been running through my mind nearly every second since I last saw her in my clothes at my house pretends not to listen as she pays for her order.
“And I’ll be staying a while, actually.” I watch her closely as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“A few weeks, at the very least. I’d love to get to know the town better.
And its people,” I say pointedly, a little louder to make sure she knows I mean exactly what she must be thinking I mean—that I want to get to know her better.
“Well, then, maybe we can chat. You can let me know what you really think once you’ve seen how little there is to this… town.” His eyes dart around the coffee shop, which I would call nothing short of impressive. The drinks are fantastic, and whoever is baking these treats knows what they’re doing.
“It was good to meet you,” I reply a bit dismissively as I turn away from him and toward his daughter, who is now on the other side of the counter waiting for her drink, holding a bag with a cookie I know she doesn’t want.
I set down the small plate on the counter and push it closer to her. The Nanaimo bar that’s missing a significant chunk mocks me. She doesn’t react. Doesn’t move at all. “You know, if you’re worried about catching my cooties, I think it’s too late.”
That gets a reaction, and I inwardly do a happy dance. She turns to me, arms crossed over her chest, and eyes narrowing at me. Mm, I love it when she gets feisty.
“Would you stop talking?” she hisses at me.
“The walls have ears in this place, and my dad is literally right there.” Her brown eyes take on an amber glow with the warm lighting in here, and I can’t rip my gaze away from them.
She holds my stare until Matt, the friendly barista, places her drink on the counter.
I can’t look away. She’s magnificent when she’s smiling, which is what she was doing almost the entire weekend we spent together, but like this, all riled up and standing close so I can hear her whispering… Oof. I’m done for.
“Thank you, Matty.” Elizabeth takes the drink with the same hand she’s got the bagged cookie in, then she reaches for the bar.
“And you know what, I will take this. I definitely deserve it now, thankyouverymuch.” She takes a giant bite, crumbs falling onto her chest and rolling to the floor.
Before she’s even swallowed, she’s taking another, and another, until she finally swallows and licks her fingers clean of every last smear of chocolate.
The entire time, I watch, knowing damn well there’s a huge grin on my face.
When her thumb pops out of her mouth loudly, my smile reaches from ear to ear. “Oh no, Lizzie. Thank you.” I boop her on the nose and walk away, whistling as I open the door to the café with an extra pep in my step. Seeing her absolutely made my day.
Five days. I’ve been coming to this coffee shop every day for five days, hoping I’d run into Beth, and still no sign of her.
I’ve seen Neve, Leo, and even met several curious residents, but no sign of the one person I want to see.
I can’t decide whether she’s avoiding me or if she just doesn’t come in here often.
I’ve been sitting at a table in the corner, doing my best not to look up at every person who walks in.
The paperback I brought with me has been open to the same page for at least the last forty-five minutes.
I’m rereading the same sentence for the third time when a shiny pair of men’s dress shoes slides into my line of sight.
“Darcy. I was hoping to run into you in town.” I recognize the smell before the voice. Beth’s dad.
What was his name again? Jim? No.
“Mr. Cameron. Hello,” I say, closing my book, which he seems to take as an invitation for him to sit with me. Well, okay, then. “How are you doing today?”
“Oh, fine, fine. You know, I heard you’re a finance man.
” Of course he heard. Beth wasn’t lying when she said the walls have ears.
The few people I’ve spoken to have all “heard” whatever detail about myself I’d told them last. I’m from Toronto.
I’m thirty-three years old. I work as an investment banker.
I chose to have a cottage here over Ontario because I’ve always loved the East Coast. If I’m going to spend hours in a car getting to a cottage from Toronto, I might as well fly here.
No, I’m not married. I have a pet python.
The last one was a lie, which got me into a situation where I ended up listening to a man tell me all the reasons snakes make the best pets.
Every piece of information has come back to me in the order in which I gave it.
“That’s right,” I reply as I vow not to talk about myself to anyone ever again.
“Well, I wonder if you’d be interested in sitting in on a meeting with me.
You might remember I told you I’m the president of the Business Bureau.
We’re trying to grow the Main Street area, make it more enticing for more than just summer tourists and visitors.
It’d be great to have someone to advise on where to invest the town’s funds.
” His eyes are wide with hope, and while no part of me wants to get back to my regular work routine yet, it would be nice to have something to spend my time on while I’m here.
If this will help the town, it seems like a double win.
“Sure, yeah. I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”
“Fantastic,” he says, beaming at me. His brown eyes are the same shade as Beth’s, but his are dull where hers always seem to shine. His hair is dark in the spots where he hasn’t lost it, and I wonder if she looks more like her mom. I wonder if she lives in town, too.
“How’s 9 a.m. Wednesday morning at the town hall?” Tim—his name finally came to me—stands, and I appreciate that he’s not looking to linger.
“That’s great. I’ll be there.”
“All right. See you then.” He gives me a friendly shoulder pat, and then he’s on his way out.
The idea of doing something useful during my time here feels good. I know my therapist is going to be real happy to learn I may have more to do than obsess over a woman and sit in a coffee shop all day.