My Kind of You (A Trillium Bay Novel Book 1)

by Tracy Brogan

  “What are you talking about?” Chloe called a meeting?

  He tossed the rag onto a nearby table. “Well, it seems that when Chloe and Susie Mahoney compared notes and realized what we so-called adults were up to, they decided to put an end to this feud once and for all. Susie told her grandma June that if she built a bed-and-breakfast in front of Gigi’s cottage, Susie would never speak to her again. And Chloe told Tag and me that if we built it, she’d make sure that neither you nor Lilly ever spoke to him or me again. She was quite persuasive, and having Lilly on her side didn’t hurt.” He slowly walked toward her, all soulful eyes and wistful smile, that bastard.

  “But Peach, none of that was necessary. If you’d just answered my phone calls, I would have told you everything. I started having second thoughts as soon as I was here with you and saw what the Mahoney plans would do to Gigi’s view, and once you’d told me you were interested in that pink house, I told Bryce the deal was off. I just couldn’t tell you that yet, because we had a confidentiality clause in the contract, and I didn’t feel like getting sued.” He came closer still, with all the muscles, and pulled both of her hands into his. “I don’t know what you think you heard on the phone, but that was me telling my brother I’d have to renegotiate with the Mahoneys, and I’ve done that. I gave them an alternate plan to consider, and although they were not easy to convince, I finally got everyone to agree. You’ll keep your view.”

  Her breath went deep as her heart lifted high. “You did? I will? How?”

  “Come downstairs a minute. Let me show you something.” He pulled her with him and she followed, still in a bit of a daze. So they weren’t building a bed-and-breakfast?

  In the kitchen, on the newly completed island, was a drafting notebook. Ryan opened it up and took out several pages that were already detached and spread the drawings out. They were versions of Bridget O’Malley’s little pink house, but with some exterior upgrades, like a new front porch and larger windows. There were some other sketches, too, mostly empty interiors that Emily recognized as the inside of that same house.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, looking at the drawings spread out over the counter.

  “The Mahoney sisters were willing, reluctantly, to sell the land back, but Mrs. O’Malley decided she’d rather keep their money. Apparently she charbroiled a tray of snickerdoodles last week, so the fire chief finally convinced her to move to the retirement community since it’s closer to a hydrant.”

  Emily chuckled and felt a moment of relief on behalf of Mrs. O’Malley. And the fire department, but that didn’t really solve her problem.

  “But that means the Mahoneys still own the land, doesn’t it?”

  His smile was warm, nearly as warm as a tray full of snickerdoodles.

  “Yes, they do,” he said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get them to agree to sell it to you and Gigi, but I told them my company could not, under any circumstances, build them a bed-and-breakfast due to a conflict of interest. Not that Susie or Chloe would have let that happen anyway. But here’s the better news. I managed to convince them to leave the pink house. I told them it would make far more sense to remodel it, and I said I knew of an excellent and reliable someone who might be available to take on that project.”

  He couldn’t be serious. None of this could be real. “You think the Mahoneys are going to hire me to remodel Mrs. O’Malley’s house for them?”

  He nodded and gazed down at her with optimistic expectation in his eyes. “The job’s yours if you want it. Gigi said it was okay, by the way. The feud is officially over, although I don’t think she and June are ever going to be pals.”

  Emily’s mind was spinning at a dozen different speeds and in a dozen different directions. “I’m so confused, Ryan. Why would you do all this? Not just because of me.”

  He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “Yes, of course because of you. Do you not remember the part where I said I liked you? Like, liked you a lot?”

  She did remember him saying that, but those words were mixed in with all the other stuff that had happened in the last few weeks, and now it was hard to put all the pieces together into any kind of coherent thoughts. Especially when his body was pressing up against hers, making it officially impossible for her to stay upset with him.

  “I like you, too, Ryan, but I thought business always came first? Isn’t your company going to lose a lot of money if they don’t build that bed-and-breakfast?”

  His nod was casual. “Yep, we’re losing all sorts of money, and Bryce is none too happy about that, but Peach, that’s just business. This is personal, and I realize now which is more important.” He leaned down and kissed her lips, soft and sweet. It was a tender kiss, full of apology and promise, and she moved against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and returning his kiss with all the hope and forgiveness she had inside.

  Ryan hugged her tighter, then lifted his head to gaze down at her, his eyes searching hers. “I’m not sure what happens next for us. This is all so new, but I just know for certain that I want us . . . to be an us. Because when I said I liked you, I wasn’t being completely honest. The truth is, I seem to have fallen in love with you.”

  Emily’s heart fluttered and rippled and sang the “Hallelujah” chorus. “Me too. Same. I think I’ve fallen in love with you, too, but you live in Sacramento, and I’m moving back here.”

  His expression said, I have more good news. “Yeah, about that. As luck would have it, Tag has found another hotel on the island in need of my consulting expertise. The place is a mess. So it looks like I’ll be sticking around the island for a while. Sacramento will just have to do without me.”

  “Sticking around? For how long?” Please be a long time. Please be a long time.

  His shrug was coy but very encouraging. “It’s going to take me months, maybe even years to get that place back in shape.”

  His answer made joy burst inside her chest like a firework because it was the best news she’d heard since . . . since forever. She rose up on her toes to get closer to those lips of his. “It gets mighty cold here in the winter. I’d be willing to keep you warm, if you’re interested.”

  “Oh hell yes to that. I am. I’m very interested.”

  He scooped her up, carrying her over to the red velvet sofa and covering her face and neck with tickling kisses until laughter overtook them.

  She smiled up at him, happiness flowing through her body. She was home. Back with her family. She had a place to live, a job to do, a wonderful daughter, and a man to love. Life was good. She reached up and traced her fingers along his jaw. “I can’t believe you’ve done all this for me,” she said softly.

  His eyes were full of tenderness. “I’d do anything for you, Peach. Anything and everything. Except, maybe . . . square-dance.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I hope you enjoyed your visit to Trillium Bay! Some readers may recognize similarities to Michigan’s Mackinac Island, which was the inspiration for the setting of this series. Naturally, I took some creative liberties with the details since Wenniway is a fictionalized island. Nonetheless, Michigan natives may find clues to well-known landmarks and island activities, and I offer my thanks to the many Mackinac Island families who shared their experiences with me.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To my tribe of awesome women who supported me through each day of writing this book. Melody Guy, thank you for being on Team Tracy. Your support and expertise guided me. Kelli Martin, thank you for your continued support, for always bringing me joy, and for joining me on spa day. Nalini Akolekar, thank you times infinity for holding my hands when days got tough, even if it meant you had to hold them over the keyboard.

  Thank you to Webster Girl and Tenacious D for believing in me, for bringing me waffles, and for lighting up my life every single day. But I can’t believe I let you talk me into getting a Great Dane.

  Thank you Catherine Bybee and Tiffany Snow for laughing with me (and at me) and for your listening ears and helpful
advice. Love you, girls, and all your rock-star ways.

  Thank you Kimberly Kincaid, Alyssa Alexander, and Darcy Woods for all the encouraging calls, emails, texts, smoke signals, and carrier pigeons. Knowing you have always been in my corner helps me come out of it once in a while. I heart you big. So big.

  To my dear friend Jane, for reading, rereading, and then rereading again. You are the shiny gemstone in the tiara of my life. Or rather, you would be if I had a tiara. Which I don’t, but I should. And so should you.

  And finally, to my wonderful, supportive, energetic readers. You are the reason I do what I do. I hope this story brings a smile to your face, a single tear to your eye, and a few hours of blissful escapism. If you keep reading, I’ll keep writing!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2012 Allie Gadziewski

  Tracy Brogan is an award-winning, bestselling novelist who writes fun and funny stories about ordinary people finding extraordinary love, as well as lush historical romances full of royal intrigue, damsels causing distress—and the occasional man in a kilt. She is a three-time nominee for the prestigious RITA Award from Romance Writers of America for her Bell Harbor Series: Crazy Little Thing, The Best Medicine, and Love Me Sweet.

  Brogan loves to hear from readers, so visit her website at www.tracybrogan.com or visit her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ AuthorTracyBrogan.