by Lisa Hughey
“Tap is fine.” Tracy smiled at the girl. “Thank you, Joy.”
The waitress recited the specials then said, “I’ll be right back with your water.”
She and Thomas chatted about mutual friends and the fact that their parents actually seemed to be getting along and spending more time together recently. They talked about everything and nothing until their waitress dropped off their salads.
Tracy glanced around the bright restaurant with its hip décor and slightly pretentious furnishings. She sighed, missing the rustic interior of the Speakeasy.
“What’s wrong?”
She missed her customers and the other waitstaff. But most of all she missed Colt. Colt who had clearly made peace with being somewhat in the public eye again since he’d allowed Lottie to post his picture on Instagram.
“I’m fine.” Lie.
“C’mon. What’s going on with you? You don’t do depressed.” Thomas ate a bite of salad.
She always wanted people to like her. She went out of her way to be perky and bubbly and always upbeat. She didn’t do depressed, and she never got mad at anyone even if they deserved it. But since she’d been home it had been harder and harder to maintain that air of bubbly happiness.
“I miss Colebury” was what came out of her mouth. Not the whole truth of course but close.
“That little town you holed up in?” Thomas grinned again. “Really?”
Colt. She wanted Colt. However she could get him. But would he even consider being with her? “I met someone,” she confessed.
“In Vermont.” Thomas had quit laughing as he finally realized that she was serious. “Well, this is intriguing. When do we get to meet him?”
“He’s pretty mad at me right now.”
“Who could be mad at you?” Her brother leaned forward, elbows on the table, speaking earnestly. “Your whole life you’ve been a pleaser. Always looking out for everyone else.”
“I lied to him about who I was.”
“Lying isn’t optimal.”
That was putting it mildly.
“Doesn’t he understand why?”
She shrugged. “He does. But there are other considerations.”
But she thought about Lottie and Chuck and how their message was hard work, stubbornness, and love. She could do all three. And she wanted to do them with Colt.
“You’re right,” she said.
“About what?”
“It’s time for me to please myself,” she stated firmly.
“That’s not quite what I said.” Now Thomas looked alarmed.
But Tracy had made up her mind. “I’m going to tell him how I feel.” She was going to go see Colt and tell him. How could she ever expect her own fairy tale if she wasn’t willing to fight for it, for them?
19
Tracy
Tracy threw clothes in her weekend bag.
She stood in front of her underwear drawer studying the lace and silk, wondering if she should try to bribe him with sexy underwear.
Oh my God, she was stalling.
But part of her felt as if she needed to get this just right. When they prepped her dad for a press conference, every detail was considered. Colors, lighting, location to make the perfect impact and send the right message.
She had a jittery unsettled feeling as she tried to figure out what to pack.
What in her closet said I want to move to Vermont and be with you?
She had no freaking idea. She grabbed the John Deere cap she’d stolen from his cabin and set it on her head. She would only admit in the privacy of her own walk-in closet that she’d worn the stupid thing to bed.
Should she dress casually and wear her Levi’s and Speakeasy T-shirt? Remind him of the fun they’d had when she was just plain old Cee-Cee? Or should she dress in her city clothes? Because while she loved living in Vermont, she wasn’t actually going to return to waitressing. She was going to be far too busy between the spin-off businesses and her foundation work. Maybe she should dress as she meant to go on, so there wouldn’t be any misunderstanding.
And maybe she should see her therapist to discuss why she was having so much trouble deciding on an outfit for the most important conversation of her life.
If he was concerned about her clothing choices, then he wasn’t the man for her.
While she continued to waffle, her doorman buzzed her.
She pressed the button. “Yes?”
“There’s a Mr. Vega here to see you.”
Colt? Here? What did she do with that? She wasn’t ready.
“Ms. Thayer?”
Her heart pounded so hard she thought she might be having a heart attack. “Send him up.”
She was still in her suit from lunch with her brother, but her feet were bare.
Maybe this was how this was supposed to play out.
Her doorbell rang.
She peered through the security peephole. It was him. Not that she’d thought her doorman was lying but still. She took a deep breath, tried to calm her heart.
He knocked.
Tracy pulled open the door with a flourish. But then words deserted her. He looked…good. Maybe a little thinner. His tan appeared to have deepened. The scruff was missing from his face and his beautiful brown gaze was guarded.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly, leaning against the door, and just drinking him in.
He seemed to be doing the same to her, his gaze skimming over her suit and bare feet and then fixating on her head. “Is that…my hat?”
“What?” She flushed. Crap. She’d forgotten she was wearing it. She ripped it off her head and shoved it at him. “Here. You can have it back.”
Except his hands were full because he was carrying a dish so he couldn’t take it. Tracy whipped it behind her back.
“Are you going to let me in?” There was a lilt of amusement in his voice.
“Oh, yes.” She opened the door wider and gestured for him to come inside.
He walked in and stopped, looking around at her penthouse condo. She wondered what he thought of her mix of antiques and more modern furnishings. She had a view of Boston Harbor. It was a far cry from his casual, comfortable cabin.
He paused when he saw the open Louis Vuitton bag. “Are you going somewhere?”
She hadn’t had time to plan, to script out what she was going to say. But this was her moment. “Actually—”
“Wait. Never mind.” He held up his hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
He hadn’t let her finish. Why didn’t it matter?
“I need to tell you something.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. His solemn expression should have worried her except there was a look in his eyes, a yearning. For her? An unexpected hope beginning to grow in her heart.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“I went to Chuck and Lottie’s party,” he said haltingly.
“I saw the pictures.” She clasped her hands together. She didn’t bring up that he’d allowed his face on social media but it was present in her mind. “Was it as wonderful as it looked?”
“Even more so.” He began to pace, still holding that dish. “They missed you.”
She had wanted to be there, but she hadn’t thought that she could handle seeing Colt and she didn’t want to take away from their special day.
“At Chuck and Lottie’s party, with their happy family around them, raising a glass to their successful relationship, I knew I wanted what they had.”
As he spoke, her hope grew. Tracy pressed her hand over her mouth, tears brimming in her eyes.
“With you, in case that wasn’t clear,” he said when she just continued to look at him with tears in her eyes.
She gave a watery laugh. “I would like that too.” That was an understatement. “But we’ll have to work out logistics.” There was no way she could run the business from the cabin. As much as she loved that space and the time she’d spent with him, she needed more room. Of course maybe she was getting ahea
d of things. He hadn’t asked her to move in with him. She would want to keep the penthouse for when she had to be in the city.
“I know.”
She would have to find a place to live in Colebury. Her mind was racing with details. But the one that she kept returning to was that he wanted her.
He wanted her.
Colt
Colt took a deep breath.
“I thought about doing something big and splashy and public to show you what I wanted but then I realized that it would likely need to be run through your father’s press office and I know how much you value your privacy. I know you wouldn’t want your private business broadcast to everyone.”
She looked shocked. “You would have done something like that for me?”
“I would do anything for you.”
Truth.
“I listened to Chuck and Lottie’s story. They worked on it. That was the message, over and over again. Sometimes life hadn’t been easy. It had been messy, and complicated, but they had come through it together. And I realized that I wanted that with you.”
She hesitated. “I need to confess something.”
His heart stopped.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
His heart burst into thunder at her words. She was in love with him.
Before he could say anything, she continued, “I know you don’t believe in fairy tales.”
“Stop.”
Her face whitened. Shit. He was screwing this up.
“You’re right. I don’t believe in fairy tales. But love, true love is all around us. I believe in love like Chuck and Lottie. It will take work but I’m willing to take that chance.”
As if she couldn’t believe him, she wrung her hands. “What about the media pressure? Sometimes we’ll have to appear at public events. My family isn’t just going to go away.”
“The past few weeks have been rough.” Colt still held onto his pan, like a good luck talisman—he wanted to get out his words and then give her the present. His heart in a dish. “But I didn’t reach for a drink. I reached for a whisk.”
She laughed again. The most beautiful sound in the world. “A whisk.”
“Yes. I’ve been cooking nonstop.” Nothing like heartache to spur a creative frenzy of new dishes.
“That’s wonderful.”
“I’ve especially been working on this one recipe. Trying to get it perfect.”
He held out the pan.
Now it was her turn to stop him. “Wait.”
Wait?
“Don’t you want to know where I was going?”
“Not unless you were planning on coming back to Colebury.”
“You’re in luck. I was coming back to Colebury.”
Wait, what? “You were?” He couldn’t wrap his brain around her words.
“Yes.” She finally took the dish. “To try to convince you to let me come back.”
She was blowing his mind right now.
“I…thought you’d want me to move to Boston.”
“You were willing to move back here?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“Well, there’s a problem,” she said.
His heart stopped.
“I don’t want to live in Boston anymore.” She clutched his pan to her chest. “It’s too loud, too chaotic. I’d rather fall asleep listening to the crickets…with you.”
“Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“Yes.” She held up two fingers in the scout promise gesture. “I promise not to cook for you.”
He laughed. “Open your present.”
“Ooh. I do love presents.”
She took off the lid to reveal a tin full of cinnamon rolls with a thick layer of frosting.
“Cinnamon rolls?” She pulled one from the pan and took a quick bite and hummed in appreciation.
“Gluten-free. I kept tweaking the recipe trying to get it right. But I need a taster. I’m looking for someone who will take care with my heart.”
“I’ve found you a match.” Tracy put the pan down and threw her arms around his neck. “If you think you can handle me.”
“I can handle anything as long as I’ve got you in my life.”
20
Several months later
Tracy
Tracy glanced out the big picture window in her home office.
Dusk was falling—the November sky a cloudy gray. Flurries swirled in the air and began collecting at the bottom of the white picket fence.
Beyond the fence, the apple and pear trees were bare. To the right of the long drive, long rows of cleared land had been prepped and covered for planting in the spring.
Tracy checked her Cartier watch and closed down her laptop for the night. The Fairy Tale branding decisions could wait until morning.
She and Colt had moved into a larger space—together. The one-room cabin hadn’t been big enough for Colt’s new venture and her business needs, since she was the CEO and main planner for the wedding offshoot of her Fairy Tale Beginnings business. She’d even launched a division specifically for renewing vows and anniversary parties.
Her life was full and busy. She did occasionally miss Boston, but they’d gone into the city for dinner with the BBC a couple times and of course a few meals with her parents.
She marveled at how much things had changed in the span of a few months.
Colt burst through the front door of their new home. New to them anyway. The hundred and seventy year-old farmhouse was gorgeous with wide planked floors, high ceilings and beautiful crown moldings. It also had drafty windows, an ancient boiler, and appliances from the last century. Everything was functional but they needed to upgrade.
Snowflakes lingered on his eyelashes and in his hair. “I made it before Preston got here.”
“Yup.”
A local contractor, Preston Kelly specialized in remodeling and restoring historic properties. Tracy wanted Preston even if they had to wait until he had time in his schedule. He was the perfect choice to renovate their big old 1850s farmhouse. They didn’t want to lose the charm of the original building, but the kitchen needed to be completely redone to update it with commercial appliances for Colt’s new ventures, writing cookbooks under his own name and blending spice rubs and creating sauces for sale. He was specializing in recipes for people with celiac disease.
Colt wrapped her in his arms, lifted her off her feet and twirled her around.
She yelped and then laughed breathlessly. “What was that for?”
“Being your awesome self.”
That sounded like he was going to need a favor later. She wrapped her arms around his Canada-goose-covered shoulders and hugged him tight. “Is there something you want from me?”
A heated sensuality lit his deep brown gaze. “I always want somethin’-somethin.” He pushed her up against the old pine cabinets and clasped her cheeks in his very cold hands.
“Youch!”
He bent his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up,” he murmured against her lips.
The moment their lips met, she sighed.
He kissed her like it was the first time. Like he was suffocating and she was air. She melted against him, so much in love with him that sometimes she couldn’t believe her good fortune.
She poured her gratitude and love into the kiss, which turned heated in a split second.
She finally pulled away and tried to fluff her hair back into submission.
“Leave it,” he said huskily. For him, she would.
“You’re always messing me up.”
“You’re so easy to muss.” He teased, but then his face softened. “You’re so beautiful.”
She shrugged. “Genetics and really expensive facial cream.”
“Nope. You are beautiful to the bottom of your soul.”
That compliment she would take. He saw her. The good and the bad. And he loved her anyway.
It was the same for her. She saw his commitment every day.
Tra
cy leaned into his embrace and gave thanks that she’d chosen the Speakeasy all those months ago. “Guess what?”
“Hmm?” He kissed her again.
“Chuck and Lottie agreed to be my first testimonial for Fairy Tale: Happy Ever After…Again.”
“Nice. Your Fairy Tale world domination is nearly complete.”
She laughed. She didn’t want world domination, she just wanted everyone to be as happy as she was.
Colt stripped off his jacket and hung it on a peg in the mud room off the back door.
“How did the interview go?” Colt had agreed to be interviewed by Skye Copeland, who worked at the local television station. He’d been connected with her through Alec’s brother, Benito. Colt specifically wanted to raise awareness for philanthropies that tackled childhood hunger and inequalities in the restaurant business. Many people who worked in restaurants were one illness or injury away from disaster.
He grimaced. “It was fine.”
Fortunately, after the initial hoopla, the press had left them alone. They had the occasional reporter in town to cover regional news or festivals. Last month the town had been packed for the new Colebury Beer Fest.
“I’m sure you killed it.”
“Still not a fan of the press or their questions.” But he would do it for a good cause, which impressed the hell out of her.
Tracy and Colt had done a prep session before the interview to get him ready. It was his first public appearance since his meltdown. But living with her, it wouldn’t be his last.
Colt grinned. “Answering invasive questions was good practice for Thanksgiving.”
Even though the house wasn’t ready, they were hosting Thanksgiving for both the Vega clan and Tracy’s family.
It would be the first time their families had met. They were both nervous and excited.
Tracy had spent time with Colt’s family. She loved the crazy chaos of their get-togethers. Her parents were in for a wild ride because meals with his extended family were nothing like the quiet dinners at their house.
“We’re both going to slay Thanksgiving.”
Which was good, since she was planning to use the full house madness to put some pressure on her father to change his stance on childcare tax credits.
