by Melody Grace
It had to be.
* * *
Natalie stumbled through the rest of the day in a daze. She made her way back to the store and plunged back into the chaos of serving her holiday customers, but her mind was somewhere else: back in the town square, trying to recall every detail of that dark-haired man.
Who was he? She replayed the moment so many times, she could have sworn she saw Oliver’s face clearly. But was that her memory, or imagination?
She couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
By the time Natalie had served her last bonbon and flipped the sign over the door to closed, her panicked adrenaline had drained away, and she was just about ready to drop. Part of her just wanted to retreat upstairs to her apartment and close all the drapes, but she’d already committed to the party tonight, and she didn’t want to let anyone down.
So, despite her distraction, Natalie loaded up some bags with delicious ingredients and walked over to Lila’s cottage, where the cookie party was already getting started.
“Welcome! Come on in,” Lila beamed, greeting her at the door. “Can I get you a drink? I’m on the soft stuff, but there’s wine and beer, and Eliza is mixing up her famous Irish coffees.”
“Oh, just a soda for me, thanks,” Natalie said quickly. Her head was already scrambled enough, but as she stepped inside, she was slammed with a cacophony of noise and laughter.
“. . . And then she said she wanted six matching flamingos walking her up the aisle . . .”
“. . . a ten-page letter to the editor, demanding equal rights for garden gnome enthusiasts . . .”
“. . . she asked how much the sculpture was, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was my lunch leftovers!”
Natalie tried to catch her breath. The other women were all drinking wine and happily setting out ingredients for their cookies, conversation bouncing between them as Sinatra crooned classic holiday songs in the background. Lila had decorated every inch of the cottage with gold and silver ornaments, gleaming like disco balls on the tree, and there was hardly a spare corner to hide from the holiday spirit and fun.
It was all suddenly too much.
“Natalie!” They looked up, smiling. “You have to hear about this wedding Brooke is trying to plan,” Eliza said, drawing her closer. “I swear, she could have a reality TV show.”
“Bridezillas of the Cape,” Mackenzie agreed, smiling. “Ooh, did you bring that salted caramel? I’m addicted. It would go great drizzled over a chocolate-chip cookie, don’t you think?”
“Only if you leave enough for us to drizzle,” Brooke said with a smirk. “Don’t leave her alone with it,” she warned Natalie playfully. “Guard that caramel with your life.”
“I, umm, actually forgot it,” Natalie blurted. “I’ll go back.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Mackenzie said. “We’ve got more than enough stuff here for a major sugar coma.”
“No, I’ll get it,” Natalie insisted. “And the cookie cutters, too. They’re right on the counter, I can’t believe I missed them. I’ll be right back!”
She turned and hurried out before anyone could protest, rushing through the front door and back outside into the chilly winter’s night.
Natalie gasped for air, breathing hard. All the noise and celebration . . . it felt like overload to her frazzled nerves.
She turned and walked quickly back across the square. She just needed a moment to collect herself—and her forgotten supplies. Then she’d be back to normal again.
Normal . . .
Natalie bit back a hollow laugh. Ever since she’d thought she’d glimpsed Oliver in the crowd, she’d felt anything but normal. Seeing even a man who vaguely looked like him had sent her spinning back in time, feeling helpless and alone all over again.
But things were different now, she tried to remind herself. And she wasn’t going to let old memories ruin her new, hopeful plans.
She had friends here. A life. She wasn’t going to scurry back into hiding because her eyes were playing tricks on her.
This was her fresh start. He wouldn’t spoil it for her now.
She reached the shop and quickly unlocked the door, heading back into the kitchen to pick up those last forgotten supplies. Sure enough, the cookie cutter shapes were on the counter where she’d left them, and she detoured to the pantry to grab enough butter and sugar to make a vat of salted caramel that even Mackenzie would be satisfied with.
Better make that two.
Natalie smiled, finally feeling better. She stuffed the supplies in a bag and headed back towards the door.
“Hey, baby. I’ve been looking for you.”
She stopped. And just like that, all her bright possibilities, all the thoughts of a fresh start and moving on, crumbled into ashes around her.
Because Natalie’s eyes hadn’t been lying. Her imagination wasn’t playing tricks on her. He was standing right there, in the middle of her shop.
Oliver.
17
Natalie stared at Oliver in disbelief. Her heart pounded in a sick lurch as the two halves of her life collided right in front of her.
Pieces she’d hoped to keep separate forever.
“Cute place you’ve got here,” he said, giving a casual look around. “I’m glad to see you’ve been keeping busy.”
He was dressed smartly, like always: designer jeans and an expensive tan coat open over a cashmere sweater. Freshly shaven, dark hair styled in a disarmingly floppy cut. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it, but seeing him now left Natalie cold as ice.
“I . . .” Her voice wavered, caught in her throat. She tried to keep cool, to act like she was just fine, but somehow, it felt like she was right back there in the past with him: waiting on the words that would determine her fate. She searched his expression, desperately looking for clues. Was he angry? Irritated?
Was his even smile a sign of some plan he had, or the cover for exploding rage?
“How did you find me?” she asked at last.
Oliver turned back to her. “You mean, after you pulled your little disappearing act? What were you playing at, sweetheart? I’ve been so worried.”
He stepped towards her. Natalie flinched back. “How?” she insisted, needing to know what she’d done wrong. What mistake had led him straight to her doorstep again.
A smile played on Oliver’s lips. “That gala you catered. You won yourself some fans. Kelsey couldn’t stop raving about your little candies. And once I knew you were on the East Coast . . . it wasn’t hard to track you down. You should have said something,” he added, his expression turning to one of concern. “If you needed money, I could have helped you out. You don’t need to go working those awful waitressing jobs again.”
The gala.
Natalie felt an ache of regret. All this, because she’d been in the wrong place for just a few moments too long. “I wasn’t waitressing,” she said, hating how her voice still trembled. “And even if I was, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’d rather serve a hundred tables than ever depend on you again.”
Oliver’s handsome face looked wounded. “Why are you being like this?” he asked. “Disappearing on me, refusing to answer my calls. I’ve been so worried, I thought you had some kind of breakdown.”
Natalie swallowed hard, just imagining the story he’d spun. She’s unstable, it’s such a shame, he would have said, as everyone rushed to offer their sympathies.
“Is that what you’ve told people?” she asked.
“Well, what do you expect?” He took another step closer. “This isn’t like you, Sara. Changing your name, running away . . . Clearly, this is a cry for help. And cutting off your family, too. You’ve put your mom through hell. Is that what you wanted?”
“No . . .” Natalie shook her head, hating that he could still make her feel guilty.
Hating how all her strength seemed to drain away just by looking at him again.
“I know you and I have had our problems, but this is too much,” Oliver contin
ued, his voice turning scolding. “You’ve been so selfish, worrying everyone. And for what? If you needed some space, you could have just told me. I would have given you anything you wanted, you know that. But instead, you did this to hurt me. To make a big drama out of things and wound the people who love you most.”
“It’s not like that.” She shook her head, trying not to let his words sneak under her skin. “My family knows I’m safe.”
“And I guess I’m not family.” Oliver shook his head. “Well, message received, loud and clear. You could have just told me. You didn’t have to be so cruel.”
Natalie opened her mouth to protest, to reassure him, even before she knew what she was doing. But she caught herself just in time.
This was what he did, she reminded herself. He twisted everything around. Made himself out to be the victim until she was the one apologizing to him.
“Well, now that you’ve found me, what do you want?” Natalie asked. She forced herself to fold her arms across her chest, trying to look more confident than she felt.
“What I’ve always wanted.” Oliver furrowed his brow. “The best for you, baby. Why do you think I traveled clear across the country to find you again? I had to see that you were OK.”
“You’ve seen it. I’m fine. Great, even,” Natalie said. “So, you can go.”
“You think this is fine?” Oliver blinked at her. “Working in a shop in this nothing town, run off your feet all day, serving other people? You deserve so much more, Sara. You deserve to be treated like a princess, the way I always treated you. Please, Sara—”
“Stop calling me that,” Natalie managed, tears stinging in her throat. “My name is Natalie now.”
“No, it isn’t. Whatever happens, I know you.” Oliver looked at her calmly. “You’re Sara. My Sara. Nothing’s going to change that.”
His words sounded like a promise—or a threat. Natalie shivered. “I need to go,” she said, taking a step towards the door.
Oliver moved to block her path.
“I have people waiting for me,” Natalie said, fear rising in her chest. “They’ll be worried.”
Oliver looked at her like she was crazy. “You think I’d hurt you? Sara, I don’t know what’s happened, but you’re clearly not yourself. You need help. You need to come back home, to the people who love you—”
“No!” Natalie blurted. “What I need is for you to leave me alone!”
Her voice echoed in the empty shop, and she felt a desperate surge of anger. Why had he come after her? Would she ever be able to leave her past behind?
“You don’t mean that,” he said, looking wounded. It was his best puppy-dog expression, all hangdog eyes and vulnerability, but Natalie wasn’t falling for it this time. She knew it was all an act, and she wasn’t playing along.
“It’s over, Oliver,” she told him fiercely. “I don’t want to be with you, I don’t even want to talk to you again. So please just accept we’re done, and go.”
“OK, calm down. You’re getting yourself all worked up,” Oliver said in a soothing voice. “Maybe I should call someone to come help. A doctor, maybe . . .”
“No!” Natalie said, louder this time. “I don’t want your help. I have a life here,” she continued fiercely. “I have friends. I’m doing just fine without you.”
She knew as soon as the words left her lips that they were a mistake.
Oliver arched an eyebrow. “Friends, huh? Like that nice, upstanding man you’ve been dating. Oh yes, I know all about him. But does he know who you really are? What you’re really like underneath this act of yours?”
She shivered. “Don’t . . .”
“You’re a failure, Sara. You mess things up. You can’t help it, it’s just what you do. But you don’t have to pretend with me,” he added, looking smug. “I’ve seen you at your worst. I know how selfish and bad you can be—and I still love you. Nothing will change that.”
Natalie shook her head. “Stop it!” she yelled, feeling cornered. “Stop saying those things. You don’t know me at all. Just leave me alone!”
Oliver stepped back, looking startled. She’d never yelled at him before. She would never dreamed of even raising her voice. When they’d very first started dating, he’d told her about growing up in a loud, chaotic household, with his parents fighting tooth and nail. After that, every time she’d tried to argue or stress her point, he’d winced and told her how hurtful he found it. How it brought all the bad memories back. And of course, she’d rushed to soothe him. Reassure him they wouldn’t be a couple like that.
Sure enough, now his expression turned pained. “Please, don’t yell at me,” Oliver said. “You know how it brings bad memories back.”
“Then you better leave,” Natalie said coolly. “Otherwise, I might just have to keep yelling.”
Oliver paused then and gave her a slow, quizzical smile. “Maybe you’re right,” he said softly. “Maybe you have changed. I rather like the new you,” he remarked. “What do you call yourself now? Natalie.” His voice caressed the word, making her shudder. “It suits you.”
And then before she could say a word, Oliver reached in and brushed a lock of hair from her face. She flinched like she’d been burned.
“Relax, darling. You’ll see I’m right, when all of this falls apart. I mean, look at your family, DeAnna . . . they all abandoned you in the end. They saw who you really are, and soon enough, all your shiny new friends here will see it too,” he murmured. “But I’ll always forgive you, Sara. I’m the only one who will.” He turned and walked out. The bell let out a cheerful ding as the door shut behind him.
Natalie was left alone.
She sagged back against the counter, shaking.
He’d found her.
Here, in Sweetbriar Cove, where she’d thought she would always be safe. Protected. But now, with just a few words, Oliver had stripped all that away. She looked around, feeling sick to her stomach. Everything in her shop suddenly looked fake, like a theater set she’d built, trying desperately to pretend it was the truth. The cheerful holiday decorations she’d labored over seemed cheap. All the warmth and promise of the season was gone.
Oliver was back . . . and it didn’t sound as if he was giving her up any time soon.
Natalie’s phone buzzed in her pocket, making her jolt. It was Luke.
Gatecrashing the party. Where are you?
She swallowed hard. The party. She’d forgotten it was even going on. She grabbed her bag and quickly locked up again, striking out across the square. She didn’t linger to hear the carolers this time, she just kept her head down, trying not to think about Oliver’s cruel and terrible words.
By the time she reached Lila’s cottage again, Natalie’s stomach was tied up in knots. She opened the gate and paused on the front path. The drapes were open, and the lights glowed warmly, illuminating everyone inside: Eliza and Mac and Alice, crowded around the fireplace; Jackson arguing amiably about something with Griffin. The others passing around a plate of cookies.
And Luke.
He was leaning against the mantle, a mug of something in one hand, smiling at the conversation. He looked happy, so relaxed and sturdy, it made Natalie’s heart ache.
She’d thought she’d left the past behind, but now Oliver had torn all that apart.
They saw who you really are, and soon enough, all your shiny new friends here will see it too.
Natalie bit back a sob. She felt foolish for ever believing she could escape her old life. No matter where she went or what she did, it was still haunting her; a dark shadow trying to pull her back, keeping her trapped in her old mistakes.
She couldn’t face them. Not tonight.
Natalie turned and hurried away, tears stinging hot in her eyes. Just this morning, she’d felt like everything was right in the world, and now, she couldn’t see a way ahead.
What was she going to do now?
18
Something was wrong.
Luke wasn’t sure how he knew it, but
he felt it in his gut: something had changed. Natalie had been blowing him off all week, claiming she was run off her feet at the store, and even though Luke knew things were chaotic for her right now, she hadn’t even wanted him to stop by to deliver a foot rub and a goodnight kiss.
“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to keep everything under control here,” she’d said, looking distracted, when he’d dropped by the store. “I’ve got way too much on my plate right now, can we just take a raincheck until the weekend?”
It made sense. The store had been packed, and Natalie did look exhausted, but still . . . Luke couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
“What if she decided we were moving too fast?” he asked Jackson when they met for breakfast at Earl’s. “I came on pretty strong, just putting my feelings out there. She could be trying to slow things down.”
“Or she’s trying to run a business during the busiest week of the year. Relax, dude,” Jackson said, yawning. He grabbed another slice of toast and slathered on some butter. “Everyone gets cranky around the holidays.”
“I don’t know . . .” Luke hesitated. “This isn’t just a bad mood. It’s like she’s trying to keep me at arm’s length.”
His brother snorted.
Luke looked over. “What?”
“Are you getting all wound up over a girl?” Jackson asked, teasing.
Luke shoved him.
“No, seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Jackson said, sounding delighted. “Not even with Jess. Big brother’s in looove.”
Luke didn’t argue. Because who the hell was he kidding? He was hurtling headlong in love with Natalie . . . A woman who was now ducking all his calls.
Had he screwed everything up before it had even begun?
“You want some advice?” Jackson asked.
“Would it make a difference if I said no?” Luke replied, sighing.
His brother grinned. “Probably not. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about women—” Jackson began.
Now it was Luke’s turn to snort. “You mean from your long history of deep, meaningful relationships?”
