Chapter 3
Stonebridge Hollow is nothing like Harborview, and yet it still feels like coming home.
Harborview’s historic roots were as deep as they could get, being founded around the same time Boston was, but everything about my hometown screamed fishing town. The harbor was the main focus and everything else was built around it.
Stonebridge Hollow clearly has its own historic roots if the buildings are anything to go by. It shouldn’t have surprised me, considering all the civil war trail signs posted along the side of the road, but the feel of the town is so incredibly different from anything I’ve ever experienced.
Where Harborview had its central focus that couldn’t be ignored no matter where you were, Stonebridge Hollow pulls you in every direction. The center of town is a crossroads, drawing you in with shops at each corner.
A general store with all the hallmarks you’d expect of a town with so much history. Even without walking in, I could see the wide variety of merchandise available. I have no doubt I’d be able to find both snacks and knickknacks I might need for a random project.
A hole-in-the-wall restaurant that has clearly been passed down from generation to generation if the old pictures lining the walls through the large front windows were anything to go by.
A clothing store that seems far more trendy than one might expect in a town like this—the mannequins in the windows displaying flashier clothes than people of an industrial town would wear.
And a tattoo studio I was tempted to stop everything to visit.
I don’t know how it worked, but those four stores built off each other to create a welcoming atmosphere. One I don’t want to leave.
Just because I can’t be in Harborview doesn’t mean small-town living isn’t exactly what I need. And even without seeing where I’ll be staying while I’m here, I know this place is perfect.
As I turned right toward my final destination, I couldn’t wait to explore more of my new temporary home. And if I thought entering Stonebridge Hollow felt like coming home, turning off of Heritage Lane and onto the tree-lined drive leading to the inn is something even more magical.
Could I have looked up The Lantern Inn when Ryan first told me about it, or when I spoke with Wyatt about the specifics of my stay? Absolutely.
Is it something I did? Nope.
Do I regret it? Not even a little bit.
There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell pictures could have done this place justice.
The trees may have been bare this late in the fall season, but it was easy to imagine just how beautiful it could be with snow covering the ground.
And just how lush and vibrant this place would become in the spring.
I couldn’t stop myself from imagining being here long enough to experience this place in multiple seasons, even if only for a few weeks in the spring. I wasn’t expected back in New York for rehearsals until March, but if I have to miss it, I’ll make sure I visit again.
Putting the 4Runner in park, I stare in wonder at the building before me.
I’ve never actually stayed in a bed and breakfast, and my only experience with them is what I’ve seen in movies and TV shows.
To say I expected there to be a homey quality to the place would be an understatement, but the reality blows my expectations out of the water.
It’s clear from the moment I turned onto the drive that the owners take great pride in their property, but driving up to the house turned bed and breakfast, pride doesn’t seem like a big enough word.
Even with the dormant garden out front, the porch is filled with color and feels more welcoming than any house I ever lived in. I couldn’t see any of the cabins Wyatt and Ryan told me about from my spot outside the main house, but I couldn’t imagine they weren’t just as homey as this place.
Apparently, Ryan was right. Stonebridge Hollow and this inn are exactly what I need.
The second I walked through the front door it was like my shoulders slowly started to pull away from my ears and my muscles finally began to loosen. I didn’t instantly have words and melodies fly through my mind, but the possibility of finding my voice became a tangible thing.
And the woman behind the front desk almost made me stumble. She was beautiful. With her button nose and lush lips, any man would pause. But even from more than six feet away, it was her eyes that pulled me in. I swore I could see exactly what she was thinking and feeling when she looked at me.
There was a time I loved being recognized everywhere I went, but after the accident the appeal quickly vanished.
The idea of being the same as everyone else I walked past became the thing I wanted most. I wanted to be invisible and disappear in a crowd.
I can’t say it never happened, but it didn’t happen nearly as often as I wish.
I thought her stunned silence was because she recognized me—something that disappointed me more than I’d like to admit—but to find out she had no idea who I am? It felt like I could breathe a little easier, like another burden was lifted.
Part of me probably should be at least a little annoyed Wyatt won’t let me get a word in, but I can’t help the smile that forms at their back and forth.
It’s an obvious sign of their close relationship.
Madison may be exasperated with her brother, but it’s clear she loves him with the way she continues to deal with his constant interruptions.
“Madison, he can’t stay in one of those rooms for months,” Wyatt implores quietly. “I love this place, and you’re an expert in making it comfortable for everyone, but you know those rooms are meant for short stays. What’s wrong with Millie’s Cottage?”
Madison’s gaze shifts to the framed paper hung on the wall to her right.
I didn’t notice it when I first walked in, but looking at it now, it appears to be a family tree.
It’s old, if the color of the paper is any indication, though there’s plenty of room on the bottom third to make additions as the family grows.
She releases a sigh so deep, it’s as if the entire weight of the world rests on her shoulders, not something as small as where I’ll sleep tonight.
Her gaze doesn’t move from the family tree as she mumbles softly. “It’s not clean or set up for guests. The staff will need to add it to their rounds. It’s farther out than they’re used to going…” Her words trail off, and I know neither Wyatt nor I are meant to hear those words.
“Look, I know there’s a stereotype of celebrities being high maintenance, but I swear I’m okay staying in a room.” I try to lighten the mood with a goofy smile, but clearly it’s not necessary.
Madison squares her shoulders and jumps in before her brother can say anything else. “No. Wyatt’s right. You should be in one of the cabins. Besides, if you’re as famous as my annoying brother says, being out in Millie’s Cottage will allow you more privacy than anywhere else.”
Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it still brightens her face, pulling me further into her orbit.
“Only if you’re sure it won’t cause you too much trouble.” The words are deeper—huskier—than I mean them to be, but thankfully she doesn’t seem to realize that.
“Not at all.”
“Perfect,” Wyatt says, slamming his hand on the desk, and drawing our attention to him. “I knew you could figure it out. It’s why you’re in charge of this place, Mads.”
Words aren’t necessary for me to see the agitation coursing through the beautiful woman behind the ornate front desk. It’s more than messed up to think, but that spark of frustration in her eyes makes her even more beautiful than when I first saw her.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been this attracted to someone.
I might be in trouble if I spend too much time around her.
I’m not built for relationships—not with my past—and random hookups, while they happen, aren’t my favorite thing.
Besides, the idea of hooking up with someone on an extended vacation in a small town I want to return to seems like a terrible idea.
Trust doesn’t come easily for me and after one too many failed relationships, I’ve given up hope. Women seem more concerned with what they gain by having their name attached to mine rather than who I am as a person and what I can do for them emotionally.
“How about I go back into town to explore some, and you give me a call when the cabin’s ready?” I offer, trying to make things easier while also needing to get out of Madison’s presence.
“Are you sure that’s not too much hassle?” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, and my cock twitches at the sight.
What would it feel like to have those teeth nibbling on my lips? Or my neck? Or any part of my body?
“Absolutely,” I blurt. “I’m the one who showed up unexpectedly.”
“But that’s not actually your fault,” she teases, a new kind of emotion flaring in her eyes—one I’m not willing to put a name to.
“Hey now,” Wyatt interrupts, and I’m thankful for it this time. “I didn’t intentionally mess up the reservation.”
“We’re gonna keep going in circles with this, so let’s just drop it,” Madison says to her brother before turning back to me. “Let me get your information and I’ll give you a call once the cottage is ready.”
“Thanks.” I smile.
And five minutes later, I’m rushing out the door, trying not to think about how badly I want to turn around and talk to her more.