by Olivia Miles
Patty smiled kindly at her. “Grace, it’s good to see you. The store looks lovely. You’ve done a wonderful job with it.”
Grace’s expression was tight. “Thank you.” She stared at the other woman, and Jane shifted in her chair.
“Well, I should go,” Patty said. “It was good seeing you, Jane. I… wish you well, regardless of how everything turns out.”
Jane’s pulse flickered as Grace turned to her quizzically. “What does that mean?”
“Grace.” But her sister wasn’t listening, and from the glint of determination in her eye, it looked like she wasn’t going to let this drop.
“What do you mean?” she asked Patty.
“Grace, I know you’re probably mad at me, and you have every reason to be. You’re sticking by your family the same way I have. That’s what makes all this so difficult.” She glanced at Jane desperately. “I don’t wish this on you, Jane. I’m sorry. I truly am.”
She glanced from one sister to the other, ducked her chin, and hurried from the store. Jane closed her eyes, feeling the dread sink in, sensing Grace’s eyes on her the entire time.
“Jane? Do you have something to tell me?”
She should say no, she should make an excuse, smile brightly, follow Patty’s lead, and flee the scene. But she couldn’t fight it anymore. “Adam’s moving to Denver,” she said flatly.
Grace jutted her bottom lip, digesting information. “Oh. Well, I’d think you’d be glad.”
“He wants Sophie to come with him.”
Grace’s gasp was audible. “But you’re her mother! He can’t do that! Can he?”
“That’s for the judge to decide,” Jane said miserably.
“Oh my God, Jane. Oh my…” Grace shook her head and reached over, squeezing both of Jane’s hands in her own. “How long have you known?”
“A couple weeks,” Jane admitted.
“And you didn’t tell me.” Grace’s eyes crinkled with sadness.
“I didn’t tell anyone.” Well, except Henry, but he already knew from Adam. Her stomach stirred at the thought.
“When are you going to learn that you have to let people in?” Grace reprimanded.
“You’re getting married!” Jane cried. “This is a special time! You’re my sister—”
“And you’re mine,” Grace said sternly. “All your life you’ve been taking care of everyone else. Sometimes it’s okay to let people take care of you.”
Jane nodded, thinking back on the kindness Henry had shown her with his suggestions for the dance studio, the way Sophie lit up when he gave her attention.
She could do this on her own, but Grace was right. Sometimes it felt good to let someone take care of her for a change.
CHAPTER
24
Saturday mornings at Hastings were always busy, and usually Jane avoided the old diner, opting instead to have breakfast at her home or take an early shift at the bookstore before her classes. This morning, however, she’d been awake since three, waiting for the sky to turn gray, for the first streak of light to peek through her curtains. But as much as she waited for the new day to come, a large part of her dreaded it.
Today was the day her ex-husband was getting remarried. And she, well, she was still sleeping on her side of the bed, clinging to her old routine. Today it stopped.
At five, she flung off the blankets and stuffed her feet into her bunny slippers. She sighed, pausing as she always did when she realized all it took anymore to make her bed was to pull up her side of the covers and toss on the pillow sham.
The house was quiet without Sophie’s presence, a haunting reminder of things to come, and Jane struggled to make coffee or engross herself in the early-morning news.
She needed a distraction, and the first place to open in Briar Creek was Hastings.
She dressed in her best clothes—newish jeans, boots Grace had strongly encouraged her to buy at a fall sale last month, and a soft open cardigan that landed at her knees. She rarely wore jewelry, but today she slipped on a necklace and earrings, and she applied an extra dab of gloss to her lips, even though it was barely seven.
She was the first person in Hastings, but already the clatter from the kitchen was a welcome opposition from the eerily quiet streets. The lampposts along Main Street still glowed, and Jane sat at the counter, feeling bold.
There would be talk today, no doubt, murmurs about the wedding at the Forest Ridge Country Club, about sweet little Sophie in her navy blue velvet dress, and poor Jane, left on her own for the day, no doubt hiding her pain behind that smile…
She could have stayed inside all day. In her pajamas with the curtains drawn. But that would be letting them win. Letting him win. And really, what had she lost? A husband who had consistently put his needs before hers? A man who disregarded her feelings, passions, voice? A person who had betrayed her, lied to her, and then tried to take the one good thing he had ever given her?
Good riddance. Today was the official end of her time with Adam. Tomorrow he was someone else’s problem.
She ordered a coffee while she skimmed the menu, deciding to treat herself to a Belgian waffle with chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries. She’d spent far too much of her life shelving her whims. The door behind her opened, and in came the elderly couple from her ballroom class. The wife’s eyes went wide when she spotted Jane, and she muttered something to her husband who, being hard of hearing and clearly grouchy about being whispered to, bristled until his wife said loudly, “Her husband is getting married today! To the woman he was sleeping with! When they were still married! And they have a love child! That’s right, the bride’s pregnant! It’s a shotgun wedding!”
“Where’s the reception?” her husband asked.
“Forest Ridge Country Club!”
“Fancy.”
Fancy indeed, Jane thought miserably.
The woman looked at Jane, tutted loudly, and shook her head, her eyes brimming with pity as she slid into a booth.
Jane smothered a sigh and turned back to her menu. She’d throw in some chocolate sauce for good measure.
She sipped her coffee and listened to the sounds of the diner. It filled up quickly, mostly couples settling at the tables behind her, and every once in a while there was the slight mention: “There’s Jane. Her husband’s getting married today.” Or sometimes, “Her husband’s getting married today to that homewrecker.” That made her smile, even though she did start to wonder how she would turn and leave and face the crowd, who were no doubt watching her with pity or sheer curiosity. She told herself their intentions were in the right place, but it didn’t make it any easier. Someday she’d like to go back to just being Jane Madison. Not Jane Madison, whose husband had made the town fool out of her.
Sharon Hastings came around through the back and tossed her a big smile. “Well, isn’t this a bright spot in my day! Can’t say I see you in here much. What’s the occasion?” Her eyes went wide and she clamped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Jane. Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking—”
Jane laughed softly, shaking her head. “It’s fine.”
“Is it really fine?” a deep, husky voice next to her said.
She turned to see Henry, staring down at her, his blue eyes glimmering with challenge, his brow furrowed. Be still her heart. There it was. That flutter. She couldn’t stop it if she tried, and oh, did she want to, almost as much as she wanted to stop staring at the flecks of green around his pupils, and the slight quirk of his full mouth.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked, already sitting down, and Jane quickly tossed her hair over her shoulder.
She caught Sharon’s eye just as she realized what she was doing. A wash of embarrassment shot through her. For the love of Pete, she was flirting. Primping. Whatever you called rolling your shoulders and smoothing your hair and running your tongue along your teeth, hoping there wasn’t any food caught, and wishing there was still some smidgen of lip gloss left.
Okay, so she was pleased to see him. Bu
t she deserved to indulge a little this morning. Her ex-husband was getting remarried to a blonder, chicer woman after all, and no, it hadn’t gone unnoticed that despite all her time in the dance studio and her strict diet, Jane was somehow a good five pounds heavier than the pregnant woman, whose wedding dress was no doubt a size two.
“How are you doing?”
Jane shrugged under the heat of his stare. “Fine.”
His mouth slid into a lopsided smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m beginning to think fine is your favorite word.”
“What do you want me to do? Fall apart? Break down crying?”
“I guess I just want you to feel you can be honest with me,” he replied.
Well, he was one to talk. It had been two weeks since their kiss, and he was yet to tell her what it had meant.
“If you must know, I’m beginning to feel like everyone in this room is staring at me or trying to pretend they aren’t.”
Henry shifted his gaze to the right and then to the left. “Welcome to my childhood,” he muttered, glancing down at the menu.
Jane frowned, realizing how it must have felt, to grow up listening to people talk about you, say things about your mother. It was a powerless feeling, and one she didn’t enjoy, but it wasn’t one she could hide from anymore. Not like Henry.
She glanced at the clock behind him as he placed his order, and her heart skipped a beat when she spotted the time. Six hours to go until the ceremony. She couldn’t wait for it to be over with.
“How’s Sophie doing?” Henry asked, and Jane hesitated, searching his face for a hint of… something… in connection with that kiss. It seemed he was making a deliberate effort to keep the conversation neutral. She supposed she should be grateful for that. She was already on edge this morning, and potential disappointment was probably better left for another day.
“She’s good,” she said, deciding not to dwell on her daughter’s current whereabouts. Sophie had been so excited for today, and it had taken every ounce of willpower to pretend to match her daughter’s enthusiasm.
“No more visits from the tooth fairy?” He grinned, and Jane skirted her gaze from those lips. To think they had been on her, on her mouth, her neck, her skin… She pinched her lips tight.
“Not yet, but she does have a wiggly one.”
“Another to add to your collection,” he said, smiling warmly.
“We’ve—”
“How’s class?”
Jane laughed, but Henry seemed saddened somehow, or distracted maybe. He held up a hand. “You first.”
She had been going to say they’d missed seeing him around, but something in his eyes, the guarded way he watched her, made her rethink that. He was holding back, and sometimes the unspoken was the most obvious form of communication.
She wanted to ask, What happened the other night? “How’s the article coming along?” she said instead.
”I’ve been tied up a lot with the house, but… the article’s been a nice distraction. There’s a lot to like about this town, I’ve found.”
“Briar Creek has a way of luring people in and keeping them here.”
Her grin faltered. Something in the set of Henry’s jaw told her nothing could keep him here, or bring him back. Not even Ivy, and probably not her.
Henry shifted in his seat and took a long swig of his coffee. It was easy to fall into the routine small-town life could offer. There were fewer choices about what to eat, where to eat, where to go. Everywhere you turned was a friendly face or, more accurately, someone who knew you. Or thought they knew you.
He bit back on his teeth. He could idealize it all he wanted, but no amount of wishful thinking could undo the dark side of this town.
Ivy wanted him to stay, of course. She hadn’t come out and said it, but she would, in her own subtle way. But just as she was compelled to make a better life for herself here, he was determined to do that elsewhere. He loved her, but it wasn’t enough to make him stay.
Nothing could make him stay.
He shifted his eyes over to Jane as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He swallowed hard, fighting against the tightening in his groin at the curve of her lips, the way her lashes fluttered ever so softly when she blinked, the way her eyes came alive and crinkled at the corners when she smiled at him.
He pulled in a breath, ready to come out with the heavy, hard truth of the day, but Sharon Hastings was sliding his toast to him then, and the moment was lost.
“I’m surprised to see you here, actually,” Jane said, her smile slipping a notch. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be going to Adam’s…”
Henry set his fork down before he’d even taken a bite of his omelet. Here it comes. He turned to face her square in the eye, feeling a pang rip through his chest at the curve of her mouth, knowing that what he was about to say would steal that smile from her lips. “I am, actually. I thought I’d stop by before I started getting ready.”
Jane did a poor job of masking her surprise. “Oh. I see. Of course.” She shook her head, a pink blush crawling up her cheeks as she reached for her mug with both hands.
“Jane.”
She continued shaking her head as she sipped her coffee, her eyes darting to him before glancing away again. He set a hand on her arm, but she stiffened under his touch, and he pulled away.
He ran the hand through his hair and heaved a sigh that rolled through his shoulders. Yep. Asshole of the year. Right behind his best buddy Adam, of course. Wasn’t this what she’d expected of him? Wasn’t this what she’d feared? He’d let her down, just as he knew he would. It was inevitable.
“You’re upset,” he said, looking at her squarely.
Still she refused to meet his eye. “What? No. Just…” She blinked rapidly as the color in her cheeks rose, and it was then that he noticed the way her eyes shone with tears. But her smile, God help him, her smile was never brighter.
It was that smile that got him every time. That smile that made him want to pull her against his chest and never let her go. That smile that made her impossible to forget. No matter how much he wanted to.
“Jane, please let me explain.”
“It’s fine. It’s fine.” She stood, her smile widening against the tears that began to fall, and she furiously wiped them away with the back of her hand, fumbling in her bag for her wallet. She tossed a twenty-dollar bill down on the counter—certainly far too much even with a generous tip—and started shoving her arm into her coat.
“Jane, please. Let’s talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, head bowed as she fumbled with the buttons. He tried to see through the curtain of hair that fell over her face, shielding her from him, but she was determined to shut him out. And maybe he should let her.
“Have a nice time at the wedding,” she said, her eyes suddenly hard with one last flash on his before she turned on her heel and marched to the door. Henry watched in dismay as heads at every table swayed to watch her exit and then swiveled back to him. He glowered at them, then quickly slapped another twenty down on the counter, grabbed his jacket off the back of the stool, and hurried after her.
His heart was thundering in his chest, with anger at himself, at this town, at the impossible situation he was put in. The murmurs started as he reached the door, and he swung it open, ready to run out and chase after her, but he turned, one hand on the door, and faced the room first. “The show’s over! But please, don’t let that stop you from gossiping about it long into the afternoon.”
The entire room fell into a hush, but Henry didn’t linger for further reaction. Jane was already halfway down the block, her long legs moving at a speed he struggled to match, even at a light jog.
“Jane, wait. Jane!”
She didn’t stop until he caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to whirl around and face him head-on. “Leave me alone,” she snapped, but the tears streaking her face made him want to do anything but that. She ran a hand over her face, pushi
ng back the strands of hair that whipped in the wind and clung to her wet cheeks. “I’m sure they’re all talking about this right now,” she said bitterly, jutting her chin to the corner.
Henry shoved his hands in his pockets and gave her a shrug. “Who cares if they do?”
“I thought you cared about stuff like that.” Jane sniffed.
“I did,” he admitted. “But now I see that I shouldn’t have. Let them all think what they will. I’m not going to worry about them. I’m worried about you.”
She gave him a long, hard look. “You’re worried about me. I told you; I don’t want your concern. I don’t need you to take care of me.”
His eyes roamed her face, noting the way her tears suddenly stopped; her posture straightened just a notch, but noticeably. Her skin was pale in the cool sunlight, and her eyes were electric.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Jane,” he said, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat and looked away, down the street to the town he’d sworn he’d never come back to, to the town he would soon be leaving again.
He should have kept his distance. Done the right thing from his first day back. Instead he’d let himself dare to believe and hope that this time around it could be different. And maybe it could be, maybe the town had changed, but he hadn’t. He was still the same scruffy kid from the rundown house. Still letting people down. Still wishing for things that weren’t rightfully his and never would be.
“Do you really want to go to this wedding?” she asked, and his heart skipped a beat at the pain in her voice.
“I think I should go,” he said honestly, grinding out the words, struggling to lock her gaze.
She held his eyes for a bit and then lowered hers to the ground, nodding slowly. “The thing about you, Henry, is that you can always be counted on to do the right thing. You’re loyal. No one can fault you for that.”
Except her, he thought. He opened his mouth to say something and then clamped it shut again. Jane was backing up, walking toward her car, and every nerve in his body was on edge, wanting to run after her, to get in her car and go to her cozy, welcoming home, to sit at her kitchen table and hear her laugh, and stare at the photos on the wall and wish that he could have been a part of them. To kiss her soft mouth, breathe her sweet scent.
