Second Chance Summer (Blue Harbor Book 2)

by Olivia Miles

  Robbie caught him gaping at it and laughed. “It’s the only way I remember to tell Keira to eat a piece of fruit each day. If it were up to her, she’d live on pizza.”

  “Is there anything wrong with that?” Matt grinned and accepted the bottle of beer.

  “Nothing wrong with it if it was just me, and we did eat our fair share of pepperoni and cheese after Stephanie…” He trailed off, lowering his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Matt said. He knew from Jackson that Robbie had taken the death of his wife badly. It was the reason he had returned to Blue Harbor, after leaving not long before Matt had. But he wasn’t just sorry that Robbie had lost his wife. He was also sorry that he’d never met her. He hadn’t attended the wedding. Neither had his brother or parents.

  Robbie pulled himself together and forced a grin. “We’ve learned to keep forward. Being back in town helps. Boston was great, but there’s no place like home.”

  Home. Matt took a long sip of his beer. He wasn’t so sure where home was anymore, or if he really even had one.

  “I was down at the dock tonight and ran into Britt,” Matt told him as they made their way out onto the back deck. He noticed that Robbie didn’t slide the door closed all the way. No doubt he was keeping an ear out for Keira.

  He marveled at this as he settled into a chair. His cousin had grown up while he’d been away. He’d gone through hell and back, and come out stronger. Matt wasn’t so sure he could say the same for himself.

  “Ah yes.” Robbie grinned at the mention of Britt. It was clear that even after all these years, she sparked something in him that he hadn’t found with anyone else. “She’s full of big ideas. Did it seem like people were buying drinks?”

  “Oh yeah,” Matt assured him.

  “You went with Jackson?” Robbie asked.

  Matt stalled by sipping his drink, knowing that he had to come clean before Britt told him the next day. Which she would. He knew how those Conway girls were. “I ran into Amelia, so we went together.”

  A knowing smile tipped Robbie’s mouth, and even in the moonlight, Matt could see the gleam in his eye.

  “Stop,” he warned. “You sound like Jackson.”

  Robbie held up his hands. “Did I say anything?”

  “You didn’t have to,” he said.

  “I’m just going to say,” Robbie said, leaning forward. “That this isn’t such a bad town. And maybe, like me, you’d be happy if you came back.”

  Maybe, but then their reasons for leaving and returning were entirely different, like everything else in their lives.

  “The Conway girls are pretty special,” Robbie continued.

  Matt gave him the side eye. Still, it was the truth. “You don’t need to tell me that. Amelia’s great, but—”

  “No but,” Robbie said. “She’s great. No sense trying to deny it.”

  No, there really wasn’t.

  They finished their beers, talking about business, reminiscing on the old days, like the time that they’d lost their oars to Robbie’s parents’ canoe and had to swim all the way back to shore. Matt was laughing by the time the evening had wound down, and he was disappointed to leave.

  He realized with a start that he’d feel the same way when it came time to go back to Minneapolis.

  “Thanks for letting me drop by,” he said, making his way to the door.

  “You kidding me? Thanks for stopping by.” Robbie laughed. “Before Britt and I got back together, the evenings were the longest part of the day. Keira in bed and the house to myself. Only the television for company. That gets old.”

  Yes, Matt thought. It did.

  “Guess you could say that I’ve gotten used to having Britt around. With her out tonight, I was feeling a little restless.”

  “I can understand that,” Matt said, giving his cousin a thump on the shoulder.

  “Those Conway girls,” Robbie said, shaking his head.

  Matt just grinned as he let himself out. He could understand that, too. And for as different as their lives had gone in recent years, in many ways, he and Robbie were more alike than he’d thought. They’d both left town. They’d both returned. And they both still had a Conway girl on their minds.

  9

  Amelia spent the next two days experimenting with her contest entry every chance that she had, and by Thursday afternoon, she had finally narrowed things down to three options.

  She called over to Maddie, who was staying late to help with the early weekend crowd, and handed her a fork.

  “Be honest,” she said, and Maddie just shot her a look that told Amelia she needn’t worry about that. It was true, that as sisters, they’d each fallen into certain roles, even if things did shake up a bit when their mother died. Maddie was always direct—when asked—but she was also very private when it came to her own life and her own feelings. As hard of a time as Maddie may have given her about not getting out and dating more, Amelia could easily say the same for Maddie. And Cora.

  Maddie tried each dish without commenting. She chewed slowly, as if trying to memorize the flavors, and then set her fork into the sink before turning to Amelia.

  “I’m thinking you go with the pasta,” she said.

  Amelia grimaced, not because she didn’t think the pasta stood a fair chance, but because she was leaning more toward the flatbread, which was so colorful with the sprinkle of arugula on top.

  “What about the whitefish?” She felt compelled to have a fish entry, considering they were a lakefront town.

  “I’d go with the pasta,” Maddie said. “Everyone loves pasta.”

  Amelia wasn’t going to argue with that point, but still, she decided to add all three options to her list of dinner specials and see how her customers responded. The entry was due by tomorrow, and the winners would be announced next week. It wasn’t a big competition, but it was state-wide, and like Maddie had said, it was an opportunity to put their business on the map.

  She went into the dining room with her chalk pen and wrote out the specials on the board, just as she did every day. Usually the specials focused on a seasonal flavor, often she used some fruits from her family’s orchard, but tonight she was on a mission. She was collecting information.

  And she wasn’t the only one.

  Thanks to Britt, she now knew that Matt was meeting with the mayor today to discuss his plans for the new project. She didn’t know what she was holding her breath for more, really: that Matt’s project would meet resistance or that it would succeed and keep him here.

  If only he would come to his senses!

  A tap on her shoulder made her jump and she turned, heart thumping with the hope of seeing Matt, to see Candy grinning back at her.

  “Maybe one day you can put my famous cheese biscuits on that specials board.” She winked, dramatically, and despite her reservations, Amelia couldn’t help but smile.

  Candy was a passionate woman, and if her biscuits were as good as she claimed them to be, then maybe she should cut her a break. But not today. Today she needed to focus on her contest entry, and hopefully use it to get her mind off of Matt Bradford.

  “Next time I’m over at the house I’ll try one,” she promised. Candy hadn’t officially moved into the house on Water Street yet, but it was nearly a sure bet that if Amelia dropped by, Candy would be there.

  “Perfect! I’m making a whole platter of them Sunday.” Candy rubbed her hands together eagerly.

  Amelia blinked at Candy, distracted. “Sunday?” While they used to gather for Sunday dinners on a regular basis, they’d fallen away from that established routine recently.

  Candy’s eyes flew open. “This Sunday night! It’s Britt’s birthday dinner!”

  Of course. She hadn’t forgotten. Except that she had, and not just because Britt’s birthday wasn’t technically until September. She’d been so distracted with thoughts of Matt and the project and the conflicting emotions that tumbled in waves that she had sheer forgotten that she should buy a gift, and probably contribute at
least a side-dish, too.

  “I forgot we were celebrating early,” she said.

  Candy shrugged. “Only time everyone was free!”

  “What can I bring?” she asked, thinking of her best crowd-pleasers. Pasta salad, perhaps, the one with the pistachios and feta? Or maybe her cornbread. But then, that would probably compete with Candy’s biscuits.

  “What? Or who?” Candy gave a wicked grin.

  Amelia shifted the weight on her feet, not amused.

  “Just your pretty self!” Candy said with a dismissive wave. “I know how busy all you girls are, so you just leave it all to me!”

  Normally this sort of statement on Candy’s part might have felt like overstepping, but today, Amelia was grateful for it. For so many years, she had planned every holiday, cooked for every family dinner, felt responsible for making sure that everyone was provided for. And now, someone had come along to give her a hot meal, and a day off. Even if Candy did love nothing more than a stick of butter and a frying pan.

  “Thanks, Candy,” she said, meaning it. She tried to remember the details that Candy had sent out weeks earlier. “I’ll be there at four. Are Gabby and Jenna able to make it, too?”

  Her Uncle Steve’s three girls had been just as close as sisters growing up, but now Brooke rarely visited, and Jenna worked evening and weekend hours as a piano teacher, so they didn’t spend as much time together as they did when they were young.

  “Gabby is bringing the centerpieces,” Candy replied. “I’m thinking…pink! And white! Oh, it’s going to be so pretty!” Candy clasped her hands together. Her eyes sparkled.

  “Are you sure I can’t bring something?” Amelia asked, feeling guilty.

  “If you must bring something, you can bring a date!” Candy gave her a knowing look, and Amelia felt her cheeks grow hot. Candy really wasn’t going to let this go, but then, why would Amelia ever think she might?

  “But I’m not…” Oh boy. Now Candy’s teeth were bared into a wide smile.

  “You raised my suspicions when I saw you at the salon,” Candy said. “After all, a girl doesn’t go from having her sister trim her hair to suddenly getting all glammed up without good reason. So, I did a little digging about that strapping cousin of Robbie’s…”

  In other words, a little gossiping.

  “And I heard that you and Matt Bradford used to be quite the item! And word is that he’s back in town!”

  “That was a long time ago, Candy,” Amelia said wearily. “He just wanted to say hello. That’s all.” She turned to go back into the kitchen, but Candy followed her right in.

  The look of horror on Maddie’s face didn’t go unnoticed—at least not by Amelia—but Maddie quickly composed herself and went back to prepping for the dinner service.

  “What’s this?” Candy held up the contest rules with interest, shifting away when Amelia tried to snatch it back.

  She exchanged a look with Maddie, and sighed. “It’s a contest, Candy. Best café in the state.”

  “And you’re entering! Can I vote?”

  Amelia opened her mouth with a comeback before realizing that none was needed. She swallowed the lump in her throat, humbled. That was one thing you had to say about Candy. She cared. A lot. And while it may have felt a bit intense at times, she really couldn’t say that she’d prefer it another way.

  Except when Candy was barging into her kitchen, that was.

  “I think so?” She looked to Maddie for confirmation, who just nodded. “Yes, I guess that the entire town can vote!”

  She had just assumed that based on her photos and description, she would collect the online votes she needed, but now, she realized that she needed the community’s support.

  Just like she needed Candy’s.

  “You’ve just given me an idea, Amelia!” Candy pressed her lips together firmly, but her eyes were positively dancing. “I am going to make it my mission to get every single person in town to vote for your café.” She shook the contest sheet. “Can I keep this?”

  All the information she needed was available online, anyway, so Amelia nodded. “Sure.”

  Maddie gave her a hooded look when Candy left a minute later, waving her sheet and muttering to herself about flyers.

  “You have to admit, she likes to be helpful,” Maddie remarked.

  Amelia laughed under her breath, but a fresh wave of hope filled her again. If enough people voted, she just might win. And if she won, Matt—and the planning committee—might just be swayed to see what really brought people to this town year after year, and it wasn’t a concrete block on the waterfront.

  Who would have known? Maybe Candy was going to be the one to save this town after all.

  After all, she’d already saved their family in many ways, even if it wasn’t easy to admit.

  *

  Matt sat in the lobby of the Town Hall, an old building that blended in with the others: white with black shutters, and even window boxes filled with bright red geraniums. He tapped his foot anxiously against the worn floorboards and eyed the mayor’s office door before checking his watch again. He’d arrived early, but then he’d been advised by the spectacled assistant that there would be a delay, so he’d been waiting for close to an hour, and that did little to help his nerves.

  Finally, just when he’d been about to stand and stretch his legs, the door opened and his former neighbor Mr. Hudson—now technically Mayor Hudson—emerged.

  “Sorry about the wait,” he said with a tired smile.

  Matt accepted his extended hand and shook it. “It’s good to see you again.” He’d always liked the Hudsons. They were friendly neighbors who took pride in their garden—Mrs. Hudson was forever tending to her roses, and giving a friendly wave when Matt emerged from the house. They’d had two golden retrievers that were Mr. Hudson’s pride and joy, even if they seemed to loyally follow at his wife’s feet as she roamed their manicured lawn, stopping every once and a while to pull a weed.

  The mayor closed the door to his office and motioned for Matt to take a seat. “When I saw that I had a meeting with Matthew Bradford on my calendar, I have to say that I was intrigued. How long has it been?”

  “More than twelve years,” Matt replied, adjusting his tie.

  The mayor, he saw, was dressed casually, in khakis and a seersucker shirt that was rolled at the sleeves, and Matt now wondered if he’d overdressed, looked like he was trying too hard, or if Amelia was right, if life in the city had changed him.

  He frowned slightly, refusing to go down that path just now. He had a sketch in his portfolio, and a vision that he was excited about. Now to just get the mayor’s approval, and he’d have all the support he needed when it came time to present his plan in a town meeting.

  “How are your folks?” the mayor asked, and for a moment, Matt felt an old wound tear open.

  His father had landed on his feet—eventually—and still worked at the same construction company he’d started at once they settled in Minneapolis. His mother kept busy in her vegetable garden and working part-time at the library. She was content, and by now, the small house they lived in was home for them. Or so they said. There was no mention of how holidays used to be, with all the festive energy that came from a big table and lively conversation, the excitement that Matt and his brother and cousins shared each Christmas Eve. Now their holidays were quiet, just the four of them, and even though it had been that way for a long time, it still felt wrong. Sometimes, when his mother set out the small turkey on Thanksgiving, he wondered if she remembered the holidays that they used to share, with so much food that they all had leftovers for a week. Or if his father remembered the Winter Carnival, and the tree-lighting in the town square.

  He cleared his throat. “They’re well, thanks.”

  Then, with all the confidence he could muster, he leaned forward and spread out his plans. “As you know, Blue Harbor has never had a full-service resort. It would be the first of its kind, and in addition to adding tax revenue to the town, I thi
nk it would be enough of an attraction to lure tourists year-round.”

  The mayor looked thoughtful as he studied the list of amenities planned for the project. “You certainly kept the winter climate in mind. The spa alone could draw tourists looking for a relaxing escape.”

  Matt pushed back his excitement and nodded. “And the lakefront location is key, as I’m sure you understand.”

  “It’s certainly a more modern look than we’re used to,” the mayor said frankly.

  Matt had prepared himself for this sort of pushback. “I think you’ll find that it’s part of the appeal. Similar properties in other well-known resort areas have had great success over the years.” He slid a paper across the desk and waited while the mayor read it, his eyebrows rising at what he saw.

  Matt decided to push the topic. “There are plenty of older buildings in town. Plenty of landmark status inns for tourists to fill. This wouldn’t compete with existing business. It would draw new people to town. People who may not have considered Blue Harbor in the past.”

  The mayor seemed to mull this over as he peered closer at the papers.

  “I know it’s not traditional,” Matt pressed, “but it’s new. And it’s a little different. Sure, there are stone walls instead of picket fences, and it’s not made of wood, but it’s fresh…and well, I think it could benefit the town.”

  “And you,” the mayor said wryly, glancing up at him.

  Matt held up his hands. “I’d like to think of it as a win-win. I care about this town, Mayor Hudson. My biggest regret was having to leave it. I’d like to think that this is an opportunity to help grow the town, not change it.”

  The mayor leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers in thought. “There’s a town council meeting next Friday. We’ll put it to a vote then. In the meantime, can I get copies of these?”

  Matt nodded eagerly. “Those are yours to keep. And I look forward to the meeting. Thank you, Mayor. For…the opportunity.”