The Library of Second Chances: A Heartwarming Summer Romance

Chapter 1

Lucy

“Spill! You got another one, didn’t you?” Lucy Sullivan’s best friend, Taylor Donovan, screeched so loudly she scared off three seagulls roosting on the beach a few steps from them.

Lucy tried to suppress a bubbling feeling of excitement, instead taking particular interest in a pelican diving for its breakfast out over the water.

“They’re just book recommendations.” Looking down, she flipped over the pointed top of a conch shell with her toe, hoping to find the rest still intact, but it was only a fragment of the original shell.

Taylor grabbed the book Lucy was holding and skipped ahead, her long brunette ponytail swishing behind her. “They’re not just book recommendations.” She turned around to face Lucy and began walking backward. “No one else leaves notes in the library addressed to specific people.”

Taylor was referring to the Little Free Library Lucy had installed downtown after the town’s original library was forced to close due to lack of funding. It was for people to trade used books with others in the community. Lucy had the idea to leave index cards and pencils inside for those who left a book to write a note telling others why they might enjoy it.

Readers rarely signed their notes with their real name, instead making up fun monikers like “Hopeless Romantic” à la Sleepless in Seattle. In a small town where everyone knew everyone, it had become a fun game to try to guess people’s monikers. Was Bob Newhouse, the carpenter and hardware store owner, secretly a fan of romance novels? She’d noticed the same male handwriting on notes left in Nora Roberts’s and Nicholas Sparks’s books, so it had to be a local.

As Lucy reached out to take the book back from Taylor, something fluttered from inside the novel and fell onto the sand. She managed to snag it as Taylor turned the book upside down and shook it to see if anything else would dislodge from between the pages. Lucy had already hidden the index card with its personalized note in her pocket before meeting up with Taylor, so she was surprised something else had been tucked inside.

“Ooh, what’s that?” Taylor returned to Lucy’s side, giving her a conspiratorial shoulder bump.

“It’s a map of Paris,” Lucy said, fighting the sea breeze to straighten out the map so they could both see. She tucked her shoulder-length blonde hair behind an ear to keep it out of her face.

“Not just any map of Paris.” Taylor jabbed a finger at one of the handwritten notes on the map, which said: Brasserie Flottes—best onion soup in Paris. “It’s a personalized map of Paris.” She raised an eyebrow at Lucy.

Taylor was right. The map was filled with little arrows and notes pointing out restaurants, bookstores, galleries, and there were even a few spots marked: Take a book here for the afternoon.

Lucy had been exchanging notes with a mystery user of the Little Free Library for a couple weeks. It had started after she’d left a copy of Gatsby’s Girl, anovel about F. Scott Fitzgerald’s first love, who was thought to be the inspiration for Daisy Buchanan in The Great Gatsby. The next time she visited the library, Lucy was surprised to find someone had attached a sticky note to a book addressed to her moniker: Island Girl.

Inside the book, there was an index card with a note referencing Gatsby’s Girl and a suggestion that she might like the novel they’d left, West of Sunset,which focused on F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. The person thanked her for opening his eyes with the book she’d left, commenting that he knew what it was like to lose himself in a relationship the way Zelda had. He’d signed his note, Gatsby’s Ghost.

Lucy loved historical novels, so it had been easy to pick out another suggestion for her fellow reader, and she’d left The Paris Wife, a novel about Ernest and Hadley Hemingway. They’d been going back and forth like that for weeks now, plowing through books focused on the 1920s. Lucy had never met anyone who read as quickly as she did. One of the advantages to owning a bookstore was having plenty of downtime for reading.

“What did the note say?” Taylor asked as she turned the book over to look at the back cover description. It was a guide to the most beautiful walks in Paris.

Lucy reluctantly pulled the index card from the pocket of her shorts. Something about showing it to Taylor felt like sharing a secret she held with its author, but she reasoned that Gatsby’s Ghost had left it in a public place where anyone could have read it. She unfolded it and read out loud, “‘Island Girl, I don’t believe in bucket lists. If you want to do something, you should just do it. Until you can get to Paris, however—and you must go to Paris—enjoy this tour. Gatsby’s Ghost.’”

“Sounds like he wants to be yourtour guide,” Taylor said, grinning as she nodded at the map in Lucy’s hand. “How’d he know you’ve never been to Paris?”

Lucy shrugged. “It was in the note I put in the first book he read.”

“A man who listens. I like this guy already.”

“We don’t actually know it’s a guy.”

“I saw the handwriting on that last note. And ‘Gatsby’s Ghost’? Definitely a guy.” Taylor nodded. “It’s just so romantic. It’s like You’ve Got Mail but in a Little Free Library.”

Lucy laughed. “Yeah, well hopefully he’s not here to open a chain bookstore and drive me out of business.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Lucy’s mind began racing. What if it was some guy in town scouting a spot for his chain bookstore in the new development that had been proposed? Construction had been halted for now, but she knew the town council was still trying to push their agenda of adding retail space on the downtown waterfront. If the last plans she’d seen were any indication, the only types of businesses that would be able to afford the leases would be luxury stores or big chains that survived on volume.

She shivered at the thought despite the warm June sun rising over the ocean to her left. “You don’t think that’s going to happen, do you?” Lucy’s eyes were wide when she turned to Taylor.

“Of course not.” Taylor reached over to rub Lucy’s arm as they continued their walk. “We fought the big bad developers and we won.” Taylor punched and jabbed at the air as if she were a champion fighter.

Enjoying her friend’s banter, Lucy looked out over the water. The sun had transformed from a fiery blur creeping up from the horizon into a giant yellow ball in the sky in the short time it had taken them to walk down the beach. The best friends loved walking the beach when they could find time, starting from the marina at the edge of historic downtown Heron Isle and finishing at Lucy’s cottage, but lately they’d been too busy to do it often.

They continued walking along the tide line, the foamy edge of approaching waves nipping at their bare feet. The gentle lapping of low tide was a different tone altogether from that of high tide, which would come in a mere six hours, the sound of the waves reverberating off the dunes to create a noise that could drown out even the high-pitched shrieks of small children running into the water with abandon while their parents watched from nearby towels.

Thumbing through the book, Taylor stopped in a place where Gatsby’s Ghosthad underlined a passage and written a note in the margin. At first, Lucy had been horrified someone would defile a book in such a way, but she found she loved feeling as if she was reading along with a friend.

Next to her Taylor read out loud, “‘I learned you can love a city in much the same way you love a person. For me, Paris was love at first sight. I stood on the Pont Alexandre III spanning the Seine, and time stood still even though my heart was racing.’”

Taylor closed the book and held it to her heart in her trademark dramatic fashion. “He sounds so romantic. I wish Jack still wrote me notes.”

Taylor and Jack had been dating for the past two years. As Taylor told Lucy about the notes Jack used to leave hidden around the house for her to find anytime he traveled, a familiar Great Dane appeared running toward the water from the dunes. The figure that emerged next was Pam Beasley, a fellow downtown business storekeeper and Ava the Great Dane’s owner. Pam was holding her sandals and wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and a blue linen coverup dress.

Lucy waved and she and Taylor began to angle up the beach in Pam’s direction. Lucy and Taylor always wore athletic shorts and tank tops for their summer morning walks, but twenty years their senior, Pam was always meticulously dressed. Her love of clothes had led her to open the island’s only consignment store, which was a thriving business on their little island.

Ava returned from the surf with a tennis ball in her mouth and dropped it at Pam’s bare feet to initiate a game of catch. Pam threw the ball toward the water and Ava took off, scaring birds hunting for their breakfast along the shoreline.

“Mornin’ ladies?—”

“He left her another one!” Taylor waved the book she was still holding as if it was a winning lottery ticket.

“A letter in the Little Free Library?” Pam’s eyes grew wide, a smile spreading across her face as she looked to Lucy for confirmation.

“Yes! That makes, what—half a dozen or more now?” Taylor turned to Lucy.

Lucy rolled her eyes to show she wasn’t taking it nearly as seriously as Taylor. “We just have the same taste in books.” Lucy shrugged. “He could be ninety. Or maybe it’s not even a he.”

“What if he is handsome and available?” Taylor was smiling like the Cheshire cat.

Lucy frowned. “Then he’s just passing through.” In a tiny town like this, more than an hour away from a major metropolitan area, it was unlikely he was a single man her age. Men like that were usually only there on vacation or working a brief stint at one of the resorts located outside of the historic district until a promotion took them somewhere else.

It was both a blessing and a curse that she loved her sleepy little town. Its relaxed vibe and slow growth meant it was only a stepping stone for men like Taylor’s boyfriend, Jack, who was the general manager of the biggest resort on the island, and Lucy’s ex, Carter, who had been the assistant GM at the other resort on the island until he moved to Chicago at the first opportunity, taking with him her heart and the diamond ring she’d returned on his last night on the island.

“Oh, come on.” Taylor’s eyes were begging. “Give it a chance.”

“There’s nothing to give a chance. We’re just book buddies.”

“Book buddies? What are you, kindergartners?” Taylor shook her head.

“Speaking of kindergartners, I need to get home and change. We have story hour this morning at the store.” Lucy turned her attention back to Pam, who’d been observing their conversation while continuing to play fetch with Ava. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah. You heard the rumors, right?” Pam whistled for Ava to come back from where she was playing in the surf.

A cloud moved over the sun, cloaking the beach in shadow. Lucy shifted her weight, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

“No. What rumors?”

That evening was the monthly town council meeting, which for the past six months had been the scene of vigorous debate over the future of the waterfront. Although the agenda tonight had an item related to all that, Lucy had assumed it would be a postmortem of the development plans that had failed to garner enough votes to pass. Pam’s talk of rumors had her worried.

“Bob heard they’re bringing in some guy who specializes in helping cities redevelop their waterfronts. Says he’s some kind of—oh, what did he call it—a ‘fixer.’” Pam nodded as if that explained everything she’d heard from the hardware store owner.

“What’s a fixer and what is he here to fix?” Taylor bent to pet Ava, who was now lying in the sand with her chin on her tennis ball.

Pam shrugged. “The waterfront, I guess.”

“Maybe this guy is just an accountant or something to help them reconfigure the budget now that the waterfront development is a no-go.” Lucy was certain there had to be a reasonable explanation. All three of the previous proposals had been voted down by the council following the petitions and pleas of the Downtown Business Owners Council and the Heron Isle Conservancy, among others.

“Mm, maybe,” Pam said. “I hope so. Save me a seat if y’all beat me there.”

“What rotten timing. You’ll have to fill me in later.” Taylor turned to Pam. “Jack and I are leaving later this morning to go to North Carolina and hike for a few days.”

“Hope the weather is cooler up there.” Pam wiped away the sweat forming on her brow. “Can’t believe it’s already this hot in June. Bring some of that mountain air back with you.”

Taylor laughed. “I’ll try.”

They both said goodbye to Pam, then turned to walk back toward the beach cottage where Lucy had grown up. As they approached her home, Lucy thought about the four generations of Sullivans who’d lived on Heron Isle, Florida. What had her father and his ancestors thought as the resorts were built on the north end of the island and houses started going up closer and closer together on the beach? At least then the developers had been kept away from the historic downtown area, the heart of the island. Did each generation always feel as if the peace and serenity of the island was under attack? She wished her dad was still around to ask. He’d know what to do.

Luckily, the bookstore had been busy all day, which had kept Lucy from fretting over the council meeting that evening. Customers had trickled in at regular intervals, and every inch of the rug in the children’s section was filled during story time. She didn’t really have a set amount she hoped to sell each day, but she knew it had been a good day when she’d spent as much time behind the register as she had away from it making suggestions for customers as they browsed the shelves.

Lucy hummed along with a song playing over the ancient sound system as she reshelved the books she’d pulled out for story hour. She loved the way the children’s eyes lit up in wonder as she read about magic flying carpets and the way they smiled so sweetly when the princess found her Prince Charming. She wasn’t silly enough to believe life was a fairy tale; she’d learned that lesson when she wasn’t much older than the kids who’d stared back at her cross-legged that morning. But she did know that a good book could transport its reader to a different place and time, allowing them to escape to a place where their parents never fought, mothers never voluntarily left their children, and good always prevailed over evil.

She gathered a couple novels that had been left by the big blue armchairs up front and moved the rolling ladder back into its position along the bookshelves. She didn’t let customers climb the ladder because her insurance agent had warned her it was a potential fall hazard, but she loved to get up on it herself when the store was empty. It was one of her favorite things about the bookstore when she was a kid. When no one was around, Annie, the former owner, would let her get on it and push her down the wall just like Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

Lucy sighed. She missed Annie. Something in the bookstore reminded her of Annie every day, which was both comforting and heartbreaking. From the smell of the coconut-vanilla candle she lit at the register just like Annie had, to the whimsical playlist that reminded her of a fairy tale, she’d chosen to keep most things exactly as Annie had left them.

Annie and the bookstore had been like a port in the storm of Lucy’s parents’ failing marriage when she was younger. Annie had never married or had children, and now that Lucy was older, she realized Annie had needed Lucy as much as Lucy had needed her.

The bookstore was Annie’s final gift to Lucy, bringing her back home to the island when she’d needed it most. Her publishing dreams had gone up in smoke, but she always knew her life was destined to be about books. She’d just imagined it was going to be as a librarian who wrote books on the side, not as a bookstore owner. But life—and Annie—had other plans. Lucy had made it home after Annie’s death in time to have several good years with her dad before he passed away, and being part of the community fabric as a business owner had given her a renewed sense of pride in her hometown.

Lucy grabbed two books she’d left by the cash register, turned off the lights, and flipped the antique wooden sign on the door to “Closed” before locking it behind her. She had forty-five minutes before the council meeting began just a couple blocks away, and she wanted to stop by the Little Free Library in the town square to leave her latest recommendation for someone else to enjoy. She’d also thought of a book she wanted to leave for Gatsby’s Ghost.

As Lucy started walking toward the square, a man stopped to read the historical marker on the building that held her shop. Tourists usually breezed past things like that, pausing only to look at the latest resort wear in the shop windows or to watch as the fudge store spread its hot, sugary mixture onto the marble slab table to cool. Lucy had always been proud of Heron Isle’s history and loved hearing stories of its founders who had planned Main Street and what each building had originally held.

“See that bay window up there?” Lucy said, pointing to the end of the adjacent building as she stepped up beside the man.

When he turned and smiled at her, the first thing she noticed were his green eyes. They were the same shade of bright green as the grass across the street in the park. Then, just as quickly as he’d turned to her, he was looking up at the window where she was pointing.

“Yeah.” He looked back at her, an interested smile on his face as he waited for an explanation.

Staring into his eyes again, she had to catch her breath before she spoke. Was he wearing contacts? She’d never seen eyes that green. They were set against tan skin, his jawline and dark-brown hair forming perfect angles as if he’d been chiseled out of something very intentionally. He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in real life. Definitely not a local. His wasn’t a face she’d forget.

Feeling as if she were falling under a spell while his emerald eyes studied hers with amusement, Lucy forced herself to look back up at the bay window.

“It used to be a dentist office in the 1870s. Back before lighting was what it is today, the dentist that worked out of that office found a clever way to get more light for his procedures by installing the bay window and using a series of mirrors hung around the room to reflect the light into the patient’s mouth so he could see what he was doing. Pretty genius, huh?” She smiled at the man, glad she’d been able to pass along a little bit of the town’s history to a visitor.

“Wow. Now that’s something else.”

When he smiled this time, she looked away from his eyes long enough to notice the dimple in his right cheek. There wasn’t a matching one on the left, and although she was usually a stickler for symmetry, it worked to make him even more attractive. As if he were more approachable because he wasn’t perfect.

“You must live here,” he said.

“I do.” She nodded proudly. “My entire life. Well, most of it anyway.”

“Charming town,” he said, looking across the street at the town square. “I can see why it was voted ‘Happiest Seaside Town’ in Vacations Today last month.”

“Yes, it tends to have that effect on people. It’s a great place to slow down and unwind. How long are you here?”

He seemed to take a moment to decide how much he wanted to share. “My return date is open-ended at the moment.”

She wanted to know more but didn’t want to pry. “Well, as we say here, ‘Put a chair in the sand and stay awhile.’”

“I might just do that.” His smile was a little lopsided, but it was enough to make his dimple pop like an exclamation point that said, Look how handsome I am! He’d taken a step away from the building into the sun and he looked like a Greek god with his lean, muscular build, and those otherworldly green eyes.

Was he flirting with her? The way he was staring at Lucy made her heart pound, and she fiddled with the tassel hanging from the zipper of her purse, willing herself to look away. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts, none of which were appropriate to say out loud. She wasn’t normally at a loss for words, especially when it came to her beloved island, but she’d also never met a man who was so undeniably gorgeous. Finally, she decided it was best to extricate herself from the situation before she said something stupid.

“Well, I hope you enjoy learning more about our little town.” She backed away to give him his privacy, but just as she did, something collided into her, pushing her forward into the green-eyed man. Her first thought wasn’t what had shoved her from behind, but of her face pressed against the man’s rock-hard chest. If he hadn’t grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away to ask if she was okay, she might have just stayed put, breathing in his dreamy aroma.

Lucy was still catching her breath, so she simply nodded her answer.

“I think the lady deserves an apology,” the man said, making her aware of the person who’d run into her. He hadn’t said it gruffly or in an intimidating way. His tone was gentle with none of the false machismo so many men injected to make themselves seem more manly.

“Sorry, ma’am,” a sheepish voice behind her said as she turned.

It was a young tourist, probably no older than twelve or thirteen, who avoided her eyes as he bent down to pick up his skateboard.

She assured him she was fine.

“Maybe don’t ride that on the sidewalk anymore,” the man said. Again, his voice was calm and easy. The way he handled the boy made her wonder if he had kids of his own.

“No sir, I won’t. I’m sorry,” the boy said as he glanced up at Lucy for a quick second before turning and walking back up the sidewalk, head bowed, skateboard tucked under his arm.

“Who knew the sidewalks of Heron Isle were so dangerous?” The man smiled wide, revealing what seemed like an endless string of gleaming white teeth.

Lucy hadn’t realized she’d dropped her bag in the chaos until the man reached down and scooped up the young adult book that had fallen out. He studied it as he handed over her purse.

“Advanced reader copy, huh? Are you an editor or book reviewer or something?”

She laughed nervously. “No. I own the bookstore right over there.” She pointed behind her. “Thank you,” she said quietly as he handed her the book.

“You’re welcome.” He tipped an imaginary cap. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Smiling and giving a little half wave, she turned just in time to avoid tripping over the curb, although she did manage to lose her slide-on sandal in the process. Shoving her foot back into it, she nearly darted across the street to get away from him, willing herself not to look back to see if he’d noticed. She had always been a tad on the klutzy side, but did she have to do it right in front of the most attractive man she’d ever seen in her life? She shook her head as she crossed into the park that bisected Main Street, pausing moments later when a crazy thought popped into her mind, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Slipping right out of her shoe. Wasn’t that what happened when Cinderella met her prince?