Storybook Romance (9781460320433)

by Manley, Lissa

  What did that mean?

  That bombshell was set aside when she spied Robert Randall arriving. Coraline went over and talked to him as he ordered from Josh. They were about the same age, and they looked good together, him tall, her petite, with their matchy-matchy gray hair. Was there something between them, a romance, maybe? Were they a…couple?

  A couple. Able to lean on and support each other through good and bad, up and down, high and low and everything in between. What would that be like?

  With a wistful smile Allison turned, only to observe Brian Montclair arrive and sweep his fiancée, Melissa, into his arms and plant a huge kiss on her lips. They had only been engaged a short time and were so clearly deeply in love it made Allison’s heart clench.

  She ripped her gaze from the happy couple. She hated feeling so sappy. She had no time or reason for sappiness. Sam had made his feelings clear.

  Lily stopped next to her, a cup of coffee in hand. “They look ecstatically happy, don’t they?”

  “They sure do.” Allison regarded Lily. “You are, too, aren’t you?”

  Lily blushed. “Oh, yes. Tate’s…wonderful.” She grinned. “And so is Isabella.”

  “Yes, you’re a wife and a mother now. That must be amazing.”

  “I couldn’t love Isabella more if she were my own child.” Lily looked intently at Allison. “Haven’t you been spending some time with Sam Franklin and his twins?”

  “Um…yes.”

  “Are you two dating?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “But you like him?”

  “Yes, I do,” Allison said truthfully.

  “I sense a ‘but’ in there,” Lily said with a raised eyebrow.

  “But…I don’t want to fall in love right now. I have to focus on the bookstore.” Sam didn’t want love, either.

  “Hey, I didn’t plan to fall in love.”

  “Why not?” Allison asked, unable to help herself. She needed a shoulder, someone to commiserate with, and Lily seemed like the perfect sounding board.

  “Tate didn’t want more kids and I did.” Lily dropped her voice. “But then he said he couldn’t live without me, and I was toast.”

  “How romantic,” Allison said, a tad bit envious of Lily. She had what she wanted, what would make her happy. And Allison had…Happy Endings. Why didn’t that seem like enough anymore?

  Horrified, she shoved that thought away. Happy Endings had to be enough. “Any regrets?” Allison doubted it, if the look of pure bliss on Lily’s face was any indication, but she had to ask. It seemed important to get a balanced story.

  Lily smiled and her eyes sparkled with happiness. “None whatsoever. I can’t imagine not having him and Isabella in my life.”

  Allison’s chest tightened. “If the SOS plan doesn’t pan out, Sam will have to take a job away from Bygones,” she blurted.

  “Oh, no,” Lily said. “How do you feel about him possibly leaving?”

  “Terrible,” Allison said honestly.

  “Sounds like your heart is telling you something.”

  “Maybe.” She let out a breath. “But I’d be taking a big risk by putting my heart on the line.”

  “Big risk, big reward,” Lily said.

  “Or, big risk, get hurt.” And the love that had been denied to Allison earlier in her life upped the stakes even more. Putting her heart in danger was a huge leap for her.

  She just wasn’t sure she could risk everything—her heart, her dreams for Happy Endings—for something so uncertain. Especially now that Sam had made his wishes plain.

  *

  “I’m going to pick up the bouquet from Love in Bloom.” Allison had been working on the weekly book order and other administrative stuff since 6:00 a.m. and needed some fresh air and sunshine. Desperately. She probably looked more like a mole than a person at this point. Not a pretty thought.

  Viv looked at her from the laptop Allison kept on the front counter. “Good idea. You’ve been cooped up in here all morning. Why don’t you take a walk, maybe get some coffee? I’m going to keep working on the holiday flyers we designed.” She squinted at the screen. “I’m not liking the border width.”

  “Sounds great.” Allison nodded to the counter. “Mr. Fibley’s order is right there if he comes in. He’s been anxiously waiting for his philately books to arrive.”

  “Got it,” Viv said, pointing to the bag. “Fibley’s philately books.” She grinned. “Wow. That’s a tongue twister!”

  Allison laughed. “Yes, it is.” With a wave she stepped out onto the sidewalk, breathed deep and took in the clear blue sky, stretching the kinks out of her back. Ah. Better.

  Deciding to take Viv’s advice—coffee sounded wonderful—she turned left and headed past Love in Bloom and Sweet Dreams. As she crossed Bronson Avenue, she waved to Miss Mars, who was sweeping the sidewalk out in front of the This ‘N’ That. Danny Wilbur, Kenneth Wilbur’s teenage son, drove by in the tan-and-brown minivan he used to help Lily with flower deliveries. Allison waved to him, too, remembering that she’d promised Kenneth she’d research books on Alzheimer’s since his mother, Ann, suffered from the disease and the whole family was dealing with it. She made a mental note to do that when she got back to the store.

  Just as Allison arrived at the Cozy Cup, Whitney Leigh crossed the street from city hall. Her blond hair, which she always wore scraped back into a tight bun, glowed bright in the late-morning sun. She had a laptop case slung over one shoulder and, as usual, wore a severely cut black skirt and matching jacket.

  “Good morning, Allison.” Whitney looked at her watch. “Although, it’s almost afternoon.”

  “Good morning, Whitney.”

  “How’s the bookstore doing?” Whitney had interviewed her a few months ago for a feature in the Bygones Gazette, and Allison knew she was notoriously intent on discovering the identity of the mysterious Main Street benefactor.

  “Well enough,” Allison said, opening the door and holding it for Whitney. She was still walking a thin line between black and red, but she wouldn’t let Whitney know that. “Story Time is a big hit, and the teen creative-writing workshops are going well.”

  Whitney went through the door. “Thanks. Good to hear Happy Endings is cooking along.”

  Allison followed her in, immediately noticing the rich scent of coffee that permeated the air in the café. “Any news on the benefactor?”

  “No, not yet,” Whitney said. “But I’m not giving up until I discover the truth.”

  “Well, good luck,” Allison replied. If anyone could figure out that mystery it was Whitney; she had an investigative streak a mile wide, from what Allison could tell.

  Whitney plopped herself down at one of the small tables near the front. “Thank you.” She flopped the laptop case onto the table and began unzipping it.

  Allison made her way to the counter to order.

  “Good morning,” Josh said. “What looks good?”

  “I think I just need a plain old cup of black coffee.” As in liquid caffeine. “To go, if you don’t mind.”

  “Been working hard?” Josh asked as he grabbed a paper cup. “You looked a little tired at the Shopkeepers’ Society meeting yesterday.”

  “Yeah, I was up late last night working, and up before the crack of dawn.” And she’d lain awake thinking about Sam, so sleep had been elusive. She missed him, and the twins, when they weren’t together. And she had no clue what to do about her feelings for him.

  “Sounds like you’re keeping killer hours.” Josh filled the cup with coffee.

  “Yeah, I am. Running a business is a lot of work.”

  He put the cup of steaming coffee on the counter and then pressed on a plastic sipper lid. “Is that inventory-control software working okay?”

  “Oh, yes, I got that to work after you came and helped.” She picked up the cup and inhaled the coffee-scented steam. “Thank you so much.”

  “Anytime. I love working with computers, so I don’t mind at all.”

&n
bsp; She paid for the coffee and contemplated sitting down for a few minutes to enjoy it. But there was work to be done, so with a longing glance she bypassed all the glass-topped tables and headed toward the door. Helen Langston came in and said a stiff hello on her way to the front counter, her chin held at an imperious angle. Allison returned the greeting, shaking her head at Helen’s standoffish demeanor.

  Then Allison left the café and slowly walked the scant block back to Happy Endings so as to enjoy the day—and her coffee. This was the only break she’d have today.

  She crossed back over Bronson Avenue, mentally going over her extensive to-do list. Research Alzheimer’s. Complete the weekly book order. Get started on her holiday marketing plan. The list was endless.

  Just then, she spied a familiar tall figure across the street. Sam. On the sidewalk with Miss Mars in front of the This ‘N’ That. Allison’s heart rate did its little Sam dance, the one that had butterflies flitting around in her tummy.

  Without much thought she veered left and crossed Main Street. “Hey,” she said when she arrived at the This ‘N’ That. “Whatcha doing?”

  “This dear man came over to help me move some of my displays around,” Miss Mars said, gesturing with a crooked hand to some rusty lawn furniture on the sidewalk. “Isn’t that lovely?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Sam replied. “It’s my planning period, so I was on my way to the Cozy Cup for some coffee and I saw Miss Mars here trying to move this stuff by herself. I felt obligated to offer my assistance.” The school was just a few blocks away.

  “As long as I have you here,” Miss Mars said to Sam, “would you mind coming in and bringing that furniture with you?” she asked, pointing to the lawn furniture, which was fifty years old if it was a day. “And, if you could be so kind, could you also move some heavy boxes for me?” She looked up, squinting. “My, it’s quite warm for October. I think I’ll go in and wait for you there, my dear.”

  “Whatever you need, Miss Mars,” Sam said, rolling his sleeves up. “Your wish is my command.”

  “Excellent.” Miss Mars looked up at Sam, who undoubtedly stood a foot taller than she. “I always liked you, Sam, and now I know why.” She turned her sharp gaze to Allison. “I hope you realize what a splendid young man you have here.”

  Allison was incapable of responding. So she just nodded.

  Miss Mars went on, “You’re a very blessed woman, you know. You need to hold on to this one, if you ask me. Which you didn’t. But I’m still telling you. I’m old, so I just tell it like I see it whether anybody really wants to hear it or not.” With that proclamation, she turned and went inside, shuffling along, her snow-white head bent.

  Allison watched her go, her jaw slack, her lips parted.

  “You look like you’re about to have kittens,” Sam said, a smile in his voice.

  Undoubtedly. And puppies and piglets. A regular farmyard, right here in the middle of Main Street. Miss Mars’s words echoed in her brain.

  You need to hold on to this one, if you ask me.

  Someone called her name from her left. She looked over and saw Viv across the street, standing in front of Happy Endings, waving her arms.

  “Mr. Fibley says you ordered the wrong book,” Viv called. “Can you come over here and look into it?”

  Allison waved back. “I’ll be right there.” She turned her attention to Sam. “Business calls. Mr. Fibley is very picky about his stamp-collecting books.”

  “Go. You’re needed.” Sam looked at his watch. “Oh, wow. Me, too. I only have twenty minutes until my next class starts, so I have to get moving if I want to help Miss Mars and get my coffee. I need some caffeine.”

  “You haven’t been sleeping well?” she ventured.

  “Nope.” He caught her gaze and held it. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered, unable to look away.

  “Sam?” Miss Mars called. “Are you going to come help me or keep making goo-goo eyes at Miss True?”

  The words had Allison jerking her gaze away, her cheeks heating. “With that, I think I’ll just move along and take care of Mr. Fibley,” she said, pointing left.

  “Your store is over there,” Sam said with a crooked grin, pointing to his left.

  She looked around. “Oh. You’re right.” Now her cheeks were on fire. He had her so discombobulated she didn’t know which way was up. Or left or right. “Uh…I’m just going to leave now, before I get any more flustered.”

  “Okay. Me, too.” He turned to go into the This ‘N’ That, then stopped and looked back at her. “The kids miss you.”

  Her insides twisted. “I miss them, too.” And him, also. Would that ever change? Probably not.

  “Maybe I’ll bring them to Story Time soon.”

  “Yes, do.” Though she and Sam had insurmountable walls up between them, she wouldn’t cut the twins out of her life. “I’ll pick out some special stories for them.”

  “They’d love that.” He held up a hand. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  She watched him walk away and then hustled across the street to Mr. Fibley, trying not to feel her heart pushing in vain against the wall around it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The day after Allison saw Sam at the This ‘N’ That she was busy all day long and had nary a free moment to think about their conversation. Maybe that was a good thing. She had to keep her attention on realistic endeavors.

  Kenneth Wilbur came in to order some of the books on Alzheimer’s she’d suggested, and Pastor Garman stopped by to browse the religion section, and the pet section, too, telling her his family was considering getting a dog and he needed a book on dog breeds. A stream of other customers came and went, and sales were steady. She also spent a few hours working on the holiday marketing plan in her office while Viv manned the front.

  At about seven-thirty in the evening, Allison was still working, just about ready to fling her computer out the window onto Main Street. Her email account wasn’t working, and she could not for the life of her fix it.

  A headache loomed, right between her eyes.

  A knock on the front door almost had her jumping out of her skin. Who could possibly be here at this hour? Main Street was normally dead at this time, especially during the week. All the businesses were closed.

  She got up and her back twinged—ouch!—obviously mad at her being hunched over the computer for the past few hours. She stretched it out as she walked, wincing, wondering if she had any aspirin in her purse. This job’s long hours were killing her physically. She needed a break, but she wasn’t going to get one anytime soon. She’d deal. For Happy Endings.

  When she got to the door, she peeked through the shut blinds.

  Her breath caught. Sam stood there, waiting. Why was he here?

  She opened the door. “Sam. I wasn’t…um, expecting you.”

  “I know. I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by. I took the kids to Teresa’s and saw the light on here, so…” He shrugged. “Here I am.”

  She stepped back, her knees shaky. “Come on in. So the kids are okay?”

  He entered. “They’re fine.”

  She swung the door shut and locked it. “Oh, good.”

  His gaze roamed over her. One eyebrow crept up. “Nice outfit.”

  “Oh, thanks.” As soon as the store had closed, she’d changed into pink fleece pants and a blue sweatshirt, and she had pulled her hair back in a haphazard ponytail. “It’s going to be a long night, and I wanted to be comfortable.”

  “You look adorable,” he said, smiling.

  She swallowed and made a show of looking him over. “Well, so do you—just like the basketball coach you are.” In her mind, his well-fitting black athletic pants and zippered top were just as attractive as any suit and tie. Maybe because that was Sam at heart—a coach—and she loved that part of him.

  He roamed his gaze over her. “Exhausted?”

  “Yep,” she said, stretching. “My back isn’t happy with
me.”

  Lines formed above his nose. “You’re spending too much time at your desk, I take it?”

  “Probably.” She shrugged. “Comes with the territory.”

  He studied her for a couple seconds, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Well, Miss True, then it’s a good thing I stopped by.”

  She frowned.

  “I’m taking you away for a break.”

  “What?” She shook her head. “No. I have to work.”

  “You can take a small breather,” he said, taking her by the arm. “I’m a coach, well versed in how to pace oneself, and I insist you get out and stretch your legs.”

  She dug in her heels. “Sam, I have so much to do—”

  “You’ll get it done faster and more efficiently if you take care of yourself. Just listen to the coach, all right?”

  She reluctantly let him pull her along. “Wh-where are we going? It’s dark.”

  “I know my way around in the dark.” He unlocked the door, opened it and propelled her through. “We used to run around at night all the time when we were growing up.”

  “We used to pretend we were secret agents,” she said with a chuckle. “You were Boris and I was Natasha.”

  “You and Lori used to fight over who got to be Natasha.”

  “Ha. Yeah. I remember that.” At that point she’d just liked Sam as another kid who was fun to play with. Funny how that had changed.

  He went left, taking her with him. “Let’s go to Bronson Park.”

  “You’re not letting me out of this, are you?” She made herself sound a bit peeved, but she actually liked that he wanted to take care of her. No one had done that, well, ever. She’d always had to look out for herself.

  “Nope.” He tightened his arm around her. “So just go with it. You’re working yourself ragged.”

  She relaxed just a bit. “I have to.”

  “I know, and I admire you for that. Hugely. You’re committed to the bookstore, for good reason. But you aren’t doing yourself any favors by abusing yourself.”