“Call me Jonathan.”
The boy grinned. He wore glasses like his dad. “All right. Jonathan it is.”
“Come on in.” Nate clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Game’s about to begin.”
“Thanks.” Jonathan nodded at the men milling around the living room, most of whom he recognized from the church service on Sunday.
Brett was standing at the kitchen table, wearing a Bruins jersey, eating tortilla chips and guacamole like they were going out of style. “Dude,” he called, motioning Jonathan over. “You eaten yet?”
Jonathan shook his head. Since his conversation with Laura that afternoon, he hadn’t had much of an appetite.
“Try the wings.”
Jonathan picked up a paper plate and helped himself to a couple. They were good, hot and tangy, although they did nothing to expel the feeling of emptiness that had lodged itself in his chest.
“Wanna know the secret?” Brett asked, grinning. “Worcestershire sauce. That stuff is gold.”
“Nice.” Jonathan set down his plate.
“Pizza should be getting here any second.”
“I’m not that hungry.”
Brett shrugged. “All the more for me.”
Jonathan watched Hayden grab an orange soda out of the fridge and plant himself on the couch. “I didn’t know Nate had a kid.”
“Sad story.” Brett glanced around and lowered his voice. “His wife’s appendix burst when she was eight months pregnant. Died on the operating table. Never met her son.”
Jonathan sucked in a breath. “That’s brutal.”
“Tell me about it, man.”
Brett filled his plate with more chips. “Hey, I heard about what you did for Ethan Malone. That was solid, brother. I don’t know what he was doing with that stupid fake ID, but I promise you, he’s a good kid.”
“Yeah, I got that sense when I met with him. I hope the diversion program works out for him. It would be a shame for him to have an arrest record following him around for the rest of his life.”
Brett eyed him carefully. “Seems like working with kids is right up your alley. How’d you end up in corporate law?”
Jonathan frowned. Working with kids was right up his alley? Where had Brett come up with that? Before last weekend, he’d never worked with kids a day in his life.
And how had he ended up in corporate law? As far back as he could remember, that had always been his goal, but he couldn’t really remember why. There was the money and the prestige, but he couldn’t deny that the thought of continuing to work and work and work just to amp up his ego suddenly left him feeling...empty. Cold.
“I don’t know, man,” he told Brett. “I honestly can’t remember. And ever since I got here, I’ve felt unsettled, like everything’s upside down.”
“I felt the same way after my parents died. It shook everything up.”
Jonathan felt a flash of recognition. “Yeah, it’s like I’m questioning my entire life, and I’m finding it kind of...lacking. Like this path I’ve been on for so long just isn’t right.”
“I’ve been there, man. Change. It’s rough, isn’t it?”
“Yes!” Jonathan was relieved Brett didn’t think he was crazy.
“Right,” Brett said, “so this is the point where a lot of people get scared and turn back. They think change can’t be worth it if it’s causing them pain. So, they give up. They shut down. They ignore God’s call and cling to whatever it was that was giving them self-worth or self-esteem in the first place—money, power, whatever. They don’t want to let it go.
“So, I guess the question you’ve gotta ask yourself is whether or not that old life’s gonna keep you satisfied now that you’ve heard that call. Do you want to go back and pretend you didn’t hear it? Or do you have the courage to become a man after God’s own heart?”
Jonathan blew out a long breath. “Dude, that’s heavy.”
Brett laughed. “Tell me about it!”
A few of the guys on the couch called them over for the national anthem on TV. The Bruins won the face-off and took off down the ice with the puck. Jonathan watched but his mind was churning. After a minute he turned to Brett and, in a low voice, said, “I don’t think I can do it. Pretend I didn’t hear it, I mean.”
Brett smiled and swatted him on the knee. “I couldn’t, either, brother.”
“Is it worth it?”
Brett’s smile grew bigger. “Yeah, it’s worth it. It’s hard sometimes, but it’s worth it. A hundred percent.”
They turned their attention back to the game, which was a close one, the Bruins edging out the Leafs by an overtime goal.
After the game, Brett and Jonathan went to the pizza parlor on Main Street to see who was better at pinball. Brett was competitive and they played for over an hour. It felt good to be distracted from Laura’s rejection. It felt good to be distracted from his second thoughts about his career. It also felt like, after so many years of going it alone, he finally had a real friend.
“So, I don’t know what your plans are, but if you wanna come back down and see a certain someone on the weekends and maybe help out with the ball hockey practice again, you’re more than welcome to crash at my place,” Brett said.
Jonathan shook his head. It was agony to think about her—kissing her, holding her, hearing her say it was a mistake. “Thanks, but she doesn’t want me here.”
Brett raised an eyebrow, looking away from the pinball machine as the ball flipped back and forth along the bumpers at the top. “Um, you do realize my sister, Chloe, is her best friend, right? I hear all their female chitter-chatter.”
“She told me. Point-blank. This afternoon. I told her I have feelings for her and she said that getting involved with me was a mistake.”
Brett winced. “Sorry, man.”
Jonathan raked a hand through his hair. “I think I moved too fast. She said we’re looking for different things.”
“I’ve known Laura for a long time,” Brett said slowly, “and I don’t know about that.”
“No?”
Brett fed another quarter into the pinball machine. “Stay the course, brother. I have a feeling she’ll probably come around.”
Chapter Sixteen
Laura woke up to insistent knocking on her door. She rolled over, sticking her pillow over her head, confident that whoever was knocking, it wasn’t Emma, who had access to her room through the adjoining door.
She hadn’t slept well at all last night. She’d been having weird dreams about Gram and her wedding to Conrad...except it hadn’t been Conrad she’d been marrying in her dream, it had been Jonathan, and instead of cubic zirconia, he’d given her a huge diamond ring.
“Get up, Laura. Get up now!” her mother called through the door.
A spike of adrenaline shot through her. Was it Emma? Had something happened?
She leaped out of bed and pulled the door to the hallway open. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Although it was barely seven o’clock in the morning, her mother was dressed to kill in a Chanel suit, heels and makeup that even a model would envy. “I’m leaving, darling. Daddy needs me.”
Laura’s mind immediately leaped to a series of worst-case scenarios: heart attack, cancer, car accident on one of Hong Kong’s steep, winding roads. “What happened? Is Dad okay?”
“There’s a business junket in Dubai, and all the clients’ wives are going. Your father needs me to keep them entertained.”
Laura’s mouth dropped open. “What? Are you kidding me right now?”
“I know you wanted me to stay for the summer, but I can’t. I’m sorry. Some things are more important than this dusty old inn.”
“But what about Carberry Hotels?”
Her mother sniffed. “That was all for you, darling. Daddy and I don’t need the money. But if you don’t want
it... I need to get back to my real life.”
“The money isn’t important to me, Mom, but the inn—” Laura stopped, took a breath. “You know this isn’t what Gram would have wanted.”
“Your grandmother’s gone,” her mother said. “It doesn’t matter what she wanted.”
“It matters to me,” Laura said quietly.
Her mother sniffed again, touched her hair. “I don’t know what to tell you, darling. Maybe if you were still married, you’d understand. But when your father needs me, he needs me. I’m not going to turn my back on him for this old place.”
Okay, she could understand that. Almost involuntarily, she glanced down the hall at the door to Jonathan’s room. “Have you told Jonathan yet?”
“Yes, darling. I told him. He’d just come back in from a run.”
Laura helped her mother carry her giant suitcase down the stairs. Jonathan came down a few minutes later, dressed in a suit, his own suitcase in hand. “Eleanor,” he said, pure business. “You’re headed out?”
Laura’s mother gave him her hand for one of those limp, fingertip-only handshakes. “Sorry we sent you on a wild-goose chase.”
“I’ll talk to Nate before I go,” he said. “You never know, the church might want to sell.”
Laura felt her stomach drop. He was leaving—he was really leaving.
The inn, the deal—that was what mattered to him. Not her, not Emma—his deal.
He offered to help Eleanor take her suitcase to her car, but her mother had ordered a town car that hadn’t yet arrived.
Now that she was of no use to him on his deal, Laura half expected him to extend his hand to her in a businesslike manner, too, to brush her off with an easy compliment and a quick goodbye, but he surprised her. “Laura, can I talk to you for a second outside?”
She followed him onto the back patio, the air cool, the dunes empty, the sound of the waves hitting the shore loud and hypnotic.
“I don’t want to leave like this,” he said. His eyes were dark and pleading.
Then don’t.
Instead of saying it, though, she stared at him, intentionally playing dumb. Everybody left her. If it wasn’t now, it would be only a matter of time. “Like what?”
He ran a hand through his hair. His tie was red, the same one from the night they’d met. “I need you to know, my feelings for you—I don’t take them lightly.”
She kept quiet, waiting to hear what else it was he had to say.
“I don’t just like you, Laura. I’m falling in love with you.”
She let out a gasp, took a step away. “Don’t,” she said. “You can’t say that to me as you’re walking out the door.”
“Tell me to come back and I will. I’ll come back tonight.”
“And then what? Wait for the next time you leave?”
“We can figure this out. Please. Give me a chance. Give us a chance.” His eyes were begging her to give their relationship a chance.
He stepped toward her but she backed away, shaking her head. “There is no us, Jonathan.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You and Conrad, you’re exactly the same.”
“Is that his name? Your ex? Conrad?”
She clenched her jaw, looked away.
“I’m not him, sweetheart,” he said, his voice gentle. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Well, what do you think’s going to happen, Harvard? He used my feelings for him to get me to do what he wanted me to do,” she said, thinking about Jonathan and Boston, Conrad and New York. “Tell me you’re not trying to do the exact same thing.”
He reared back as though she’d slapped him. “I’m not trying to get you to do anything except give this thing between us a chance.”
“I told you already,” she said, turning away, her voice intentionally cold, intentionally dismissive, “there’s nothing between us except chemistry. At least not on my end.”
There was a long moment of silence, and Laura was tempted to look back at him, but she resisted the urge. If she looked at him now, she’d cave, and she couldn’t. She couldn’t. She had to be strong. For her. For Emma. She had to prove to herself that she wasn’t going to get tricked into loving someone who didn’t love her back ever again.
“Okay,” Jonathan said finally, his voice defeated. “I had to try.” After another long moment of silence, he added, “Tell Emma I said goodbye, will you?”
She nodded, her back still turned toward him, not trusting herself to reply out loud.
She heard the sliding glass door into the parlor slide open, then slide closed. She sat heavily on the steps of the patio, watching the light at the end of the jetty blink on and off, off and on.
I’m falling in love with you, he’d said.
And then he’d left anyway, to see if he could salvage his partnership by talking to Pastor Nate.
She was crying, and she was angry about it. Why had she been stupid enough to let herself care about him? She’d known what would happen. She’d always known that his career would win out in the end.
I’m falling in love with you.
The patio door opened again and she turned before she could stop herself, but it wasn’t Jonathan. It was her mother, looking thoughtful.
Laura sat up straighter, wiped the tears from her face. “Is he gone?”
Her mother nodded. “He’s gone.”
“Good.”
Her mother rested an awkward hand on Laura’s shoulder. “You know, darling, all your father and I ever wanted for you was to be happy.”
Laura snorted. “Can we please not do this now?”
“I know you blame me and your father for what happened with Conrad, and maybe I should have made my objections more clear—”
“What objections, Mom? You wanted me to get married at the country club! With a big, frilly dress!”
“Yes,” her mother said, “because when you commit your life to someone, darling, you shouldn’t do it quietly and then slink away into the night as though you’re ashamed. The fact that you two didn’t want any fanfare was worrisome.”
Laura pressed her lips into a thin line.
Her mother touched Laura’s cheek. “What I said the other day about your father being proud of you was true. We’ve always been proud of you, darling, and that didn’t change with your divorce.”
Laura closed her eyes, trying to work it through, but the pieces wouldn’t click into place. Because they’d sent her away. She remembered the shame of being left behind, the sense of crippling unworthiness, the feeling that, no matter what she did, she would never be enough.
“I always felt like a disappointment to you.”
Her mother laughed, a strangled noise that sounded like it was full of glass. “Oh, darling. Would you believe I never felt good enough for you?”
Her mother’s phone chirped, and she looked at the screen. “That’s my driver,” Eleanor said, getting to her feet. “Take care of yourself, darling.” Laura stood and her mother leaned in to air-kiss both of Laura’s cheeks.
“You, too, Mom.”
And as she watched her mother teeter away in her designer clothes and her heels, Laura realized that she wasn’t even angry that her mother was leaving. She was sad about losing the inn, but at least she knew that, in her own way, her mother loved her.
Maybe instead of focusing on everything that had happened in the past, she could simply choose to look forward. Forgive her parents—and Conrad, even—for what they hadn’t been able to give her and find the people who could give her what she needed today.
Her mother’s words echoed in her head: When your father needs me, he needs me, darling. I’m not going to turn my back on him for this old place.
The place, the person. The person, the place. Mayb
e her mother’s leaving was a blessing in disguise. She’d wanted to keep the inn to keep her grandmother’s legacy alive, but her mother was right—Gram was gone. She wasn’t coming back. But Jonathan...
Jonathan was here, and he was falling in love with her, and she’d shoved him out the door.
She’d been so busy comparing him to Conrad and her father, right from the start, and for what?
To protect herself.
Because he was a thousand times the man Conrad had been, and she’d been terrified that if she fell in love with him, he wouldn’t love her back. So terrified, it seemed, that when he’d handed her his heart on a platter, she’d knocked it to the ground and crushed it under her feet.
What had she been thinking?
She loved him. She needed him. If she and Emma had to move, if he had to work more than she might like... Well, he was right—they could figure it out.
She didn’t care if she had to go to Boston or Hong Kong or New York. She had to get him back.
* * *
Jonathan collapsed into a chair at the Cape Cod Coffee Co. on Main Street and put his face in his hands. He’d wanted Brett to be right about Laura so badly. He’d hoped—man, how he’d hoped—that by telling her how he felt, he could change her mind about saying goodbye.
But he hadn’t convinced her. She hadn’t changed her mind. And now he had to go back to Boston without her or the deal that could have saved his career.
And... He didn’t want to leave. He liked this town, he liked these people, but most of all, he liked himself when he was here, and he just, really did not want to go.
“Can I get you anything?” a teenage barista asked him, hovering by the side of his table. The girl had blond hair and braces, her sunny disposition a perfect match to the shop, which was bright and airy, with wooden tables, wooden chairs and a variety of colorful surfboards mounted on the walls.
“Just coffee,” he said. “Black.”
The girl nodded, but she was looking at him strangely, as though she knew him from somewhere, but couldn’t quite figure it out. He took out his phone, hoping she’d take it as a cue to stop staring, but instead she said, “Um, you’re that guy, aren’t you? The one who helped Ethan Malone?”
Falling for the Innkeeper Page 15
