by Shirley Jump
“My best memories are all in that place.” Andrea sighed. “Is Carol still planning on selling?”
Emily hadn’t brought up the subject with Carol because she didn’t want to hear the answer. She hoped that once the building was fixed, the innkeeper would change her mind. “I’m not sure. Cole has been doing a lot of repairs—”
“He’s still there?”
Emily tossed a leaf into the water and watched it float away. “He wants a second chance. He keeps telling me things will be different.”
“Maybe they will. Maybe the separation really changed him. I mean, he’s still there, not at work, right? For a workaholic to take that much time off must mean something. Don’t you think?”
Emily wanted to believe that, but she’d had her hopes dashed a thousand times before. And now, with the baby on the way, and Cole’s insistence that they not add kids into their marriage, she didn’t see a way to make it work, regardless of how many hours he spent here.
Not to mention there were things about himself that he had shared with Joe and not with her. His wife. If anything told Emily that their relationship wasn’t on solid ground, that did.
“The fundamental differences between us are still there, Andrea,” she said. “Nothing has changed that. I told him I’m moving forward with the divorce.”
“I’m sorry. I know that’s got to be hard on you.”
“I’m okay. One of the things I’m finding by being on my own is that I’m stronger than I thought.” She watched a lone bird skim the surface of the water, elegant and clean, then make a sudden dive for a fish. “Plus, I’m finally writing that book I wanted to write, and being responsible for me and only me. So even if Cole wanted to get back together, I’m not the same Emily I was before.”
“That’s fabulous. And I’ll get to see that for myself when I get out there in a couple weeks.”
“You’re coming? Oh, that’s awesome! It’ll be so great to see you.”
Andrea sighed. “You were right—I do need a break—and what better place to take a break than at the inn with all of you? And maybe the two of us can convince Carol that she needs to hold on to that place.”
Emily smiled. “She’d be powerless against the combined strength of the Gingerbread Girls.”
“You know it. Together, we were an unstoppable force.” Then Andrea’s voice lowered almost to a whisper. “Even without Melissa.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Emily said. “Because of her letter. I want to go after my dreams before it’s too late.”
“That’s the right attitude. And I’ll be right there with you, soon. Take care, Emily.”
“I will. See you soon.” She hung up the phone and leaned back to turn her face to the sun. The wind rustled in the trees, creaked with the swaying dock and ruffled her hair. She closed her eyes and just let the day wash over her.
“Maybe I should have built a lake at the house in New York. Added a dock, a little boat.” Cole’s voice, behind her.
One of these days her stubborn heart would stop leaping every time Cole was around. But that day wasn’t today.
She thought about what Joe had said. Maybe there was more to the story, more to Cole than she realized. Maybe she should keep an open heart. For a little while longer.
“And if we had a lake at the house in New York, would we go fishing at the end of the day?” she asked, turning toward him. “I can just see you out there in hip waders with a fly rod.”
“What, you don’t think I’d look sexy in hip waders?”
She laughed. Picturing Cole in the long boots, with his jeans and mussed longish hair sent a ribbon of heat through her. That resolve to be done, to distance herself from him, fizzled for a moment. “You...you would look sexy in anything. Except maybe hip waders.”
“I could rock some hip waders. I’ll have to get some just to prove it to you.” He cocked a hip and struck a pose.
She laughed more, and realized how long it had been since she’d laughed about something silly with Cole. Those days had got lost in the stress of building a business, then the busyness of the social life expected of someone in the upper orbit of moneymakers. She glanced at Cole and saw the smile lighting his face, his eyes. No matter what happened in the future, she hoped he managed to find more time and room for laughter. “You’ve looked so relaxed these past few days, Cole. So...happy. I haven’t seen you like that in a long time.”
He gestured toward the space beside her. Emily nodded, and Cole sat down on the dock’s edge. “I didn’t realize how much I was working until I wasn’t there every day.” He glanced over at her. “All those years you told me I needed to take a vacation, and I didn’t. I guess I thought the place would fall apart if I wasn’t there.”
“And is it?”
He chuckled. “Probably. Given how many messages are on my phone, and how often people call me. Like last night. That was a problem with the shipping company that had Doug in a panic. I got it straightened out, then told Doug not to call me unless the building was on fire. I hired good people, and they’ll figure those things out. That is, after all, what I pay them to do, as Irene and you have reminded me.”
“They’re probably all still in shock that you actually took several days off in a row.”
He nodded, then picked up a stick from the dock and flung it into the water. “I should have done it years ago. Maybe then we wouldn’t be where we are now.”
“Maybe.” She watched the stick float for a moment, then disappear beneath one of the ripples in the lake. “There was a lot more wrong in our marriage than the fact that we never went on vacations, you know.”
“But if we had gone on vacation more often, then maybe we could have talked about those other things.” He flung another stick out onto the water and waited until a wave devoured it. “That’s why I’m not going back to work anytime soon. I’m staying until this place is fixed or—” he turned to face her “—until we are.”
“Cole, I can’t—”
He put up a finger, pressing it to her lips. She closed her eyes, inhaled his familiar cologne, and with it, the desire for the man she had married. “Don’t say that. I know you want to file. I know you’re done. But I started something here that I want to finish, and if we’re going to be staying in the same place, all I ask is for a few more days. After ten years, a few days isn’t much, Emily. Is it?”
She shivered as the wind kicked up, and tugged the zipper of her sweatshirt higher. “Then tell me the real reason you don’t want to have kids, Cole.”
He opened his mouth, closed it again. “I never said I didn’t want to have kids, Emily. Just not now.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have a reason why. It’s just not the right time.”
Why wouldn’t he open up to her? Tell her at least what he had told Joe? She wanted to tell him she already knew, but didn’t want to betray Joe’s confidence, either. The urge to yell at Cole returned, but where had fighting ever got them? All that anger had created a wall, and people didn’t communicate through walls. So she took a deep breath instead.
“When will be the right time?” she asked softly. “Because I’m ready now.”
More ready than you know.
“I don’t know.” He waved his hand vaguely. “Down the road someday.”
She got to her feet. If he wasn’t going to be honest with her, then she was wasting her time hoping for a change. “Just go back to the office, Cole. Staying here and repairing the plumbing or fixing the porch isn’t going to change anything between us.”
“You don’t know that, Emily. If we talk—”
“I came here to get away, Cole. To think, without you around. I don’t want to talk anymore. I told you last night that I’m done.” She threw up her hands. “Why can’t you be done, too? Then we can move on. Both of us.”
He scrambled to his feet before she could leave, and reached for her hands. When Cole touched her, the familiar zing of electricity ran through Emily. Would there ever be a day when that didn’t happen? And why, oh why didn’t her heart and body get the message from her brain?
“Fine. But before we leave this place and move on to lawyers and court dates and divorce papers, I want to ask you to give us one more chance.”
“Cole—” She turned away.
He tipped her chin until she was looking at him again. “Give me one more chance at least. Give me the next few days, and let’s see what happens. No talk of divorce or separation or anything other than just...getting to know each other again. Having those talks we never had.”
She knew she should say no. She even opened her mouth to say the word, but it got stuck in her throat. Maybe Cole realized he needed to open up, too. If he did, then there was a chance they could make this work. A small chance. “And at the end of that time?”
“If we realize we are too far apart to put this back together, that there’s really nothing there to keep us together, then I will go back to New York and file myself.”
Maybe if she agreed, he’d finally quit fighting a battle he was never going to win. And maybe she would stop looking at him and longing for the man he used to be. She hesitated, her gaze going to the lake, now as serene as a mirror.
“Okay,” she said, because that darn bubble of hope refused to die, no matter how much her common sense tried to overrule it, “we’ll try it.”
A smile winged across Cole’s face, and Emily wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have given him that hope. Maybe she should have just told him to forget it, that she was having a baby he’d made it clear he didn’t want, and it was silly to delay the inevitable.
“Be ready at six,” Cole said.
“Why?”
Cole caught her chin, let his thumb trace a light touch along her bottom lip. Her heart skipped; her breath caught. “I want to take my wife on a date. One that should bring back some memories. Or at the very least, give us some new ones to share.”
He turned to walk away, and she thought how much she wanted those. Her hand drifted to her abdomen. Oh, yes, how very, very much.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
COLE HADN’T BEEN this nervous since he was fifteen and asking a girl on a date. The date had been a stumbling, embarrassing event, ending with him spilling popcorn on her at the movies. Back then, he’d thought the stakes could never get higher than asking one of the most popular girls in high school to a movie.
He’d been wrong. Tonight’s date would set the tone for whatever came next. He knew that as well as he knew the sun would rise tomorrow. If tonight went badly, it would add another brick to the wall between them. Too many bricks, and he knew the wall would be impossible to tear down.
When he’d proposed the date, he’d started thinking about calling for a limo or a private plane, taking Emily off to an elaborate dinner in Manhattan or a weekend on one of the Virgin Islands. Then he thought about everything she had said and that they had talked about, and realized that in order to solve the problems in the present, he needed to go back to the past.
The problem was that Cole had worked very hard to leave his past in the rearview mirror. As soon as he could shed the things that had held him down, he’d breathe a sigh of relief. Emily had never understood why he didn’t want to visit his mother. Why he rarely went back to his hometown.
He’d met her family, and though they were far from perfect, they were a sight better than his parents had been. How could he explain to Emily that he never talked about his childhood because all it did was remind him of the very place he never wanted to be again?
All these years, he’d kept that to himself. Maybe that had been a mistake. Either way, he was here tonight to try to make things better, no matter what that took.
At six on the dot, he strode up the new steps of the porch and pressed the inn’s doorbell. He adjusted his tie, shifted from foot to foot on his shiny dress shoes. A second later, Emily opened the door and gave him a curious look. “You rang the doorbell?” she said.
“Yup. I’m here to take my wife on a date. I thought I should do it right.”
A small smile curved across her face, and amusement danced in her eyes. Score one for Cole. “Well, then, maybe I should call my dad and have him come over and grill you.”
Cole laughed. He put up his right hand. “I promise not to drive too fast, to drink or to take advantage of you tonight. And I will have you home by curfew.”
The smile widened. She put out her arm and he slipped it into the crook of his. “Then let’s go,” she said.
“Your wish is my command, madam.” He led her down the porch and over to his rental car, opening the passenger’s side door of the Mercedes and waiting for her to sit before coming around to the driver’s side.
“What, no limo?” she said when he got behind the wheel.
“I thought we’d do this old school. No limos, no helicopters. No red carpets. Just a good old-fashioned date.” He rested his hand on the key fob, then looked over at her. “Like we used to have. Before...everything.”
The smile lit her eyes. “That sounds perfect, Cole.”
He put the car in gear. They swung out of the inn’s drive and headed down the tree-lined road. Night was beginning to fall, and the waning sun dropped a dark gold hue over the treetops and streets. The pavement gleamed from an afternoon shower, making wet leaves cling to the tar in clumps.
“Where are we going?” Emily asked.
He shifted his gaze to her. She’d worn a dress, a simple deep green one that hugged her curves and showed off her amazing legs. She’d paired the dress with black heels and a long black trench coat that he’d given her for Christmas three years ago. Her hair was up, and a few loose tendrils dusted her neck and jaw. All in all, the effect was...devastating. Half of him didn’t want to take her anywhere but to bed. Then he remembered his promise not to take advantage. He redirected his attention to the road before his hormones overruled that decision. “It’s going to be a surprise,” he said, “but we aren’t going far.”
“No dinner in the city? Hmm...I’m intrigued.”
“Good.” He took a left, then a right, and after another mile, he pulled into a parking lot and turned off the car. A few other cars filled the lot, while a bright white sign above announced their destination.
Emily turned to him, her eyes bright and excited. “You brought me to the Barrow’s Cove Diner? This was my favorite place to eat when we were here in the summers. My mom and dad would bring me here on Friday nights. It was the one night we all ate as a family.”
Cole grinned. “I know. I remember you telling me about that. But we’re not going there quite yet.”
He got out of the car, came around, opened her door, then put out his arm. She slipped hers into his again, and when he covered her hand with his own, Cole realized how much he had missed the simple act of touching his wife. When had it become more usual for them not to touch, than to have contact?
“It’s still light out. Let’s go for a short walk before dinner.”
“A pre-feast calorie burn?”
“Something like that.” He took her hand with his, and though she tensed, she didn’t pull away. Score another point for Cole. He liked to think he was making progress with Emily, but at the same time he sensed she was holding something back. “Remember that game we used to play when we were young and poor?”
“What game?”
“The one where we picked out a house on the street and imagined what we would be doing if we lived inside there.” He remembered those days, strolling down the streets of New York at the end of the day, the two of them dreaming and wishing. In those days, it had seemed as if anything was possible, if only they believed hard enough.
“Back when we thought we’d never live in anything bigger than a bread box.” She laughed. “We’ve kind of moved past that, haven’t we, Cole?”
“Humor me, Emily.” He didn’t want to talk about how they weren’t living in that giant house together anymore, how they were probably going to sell it and move on to separate residences. For this night, he wanted to pretend it was the old days, when the only thing they could afford was dreams.
She put a finger to her lip and studied the houses on either side of the street. “That one,” Emily said, pointing to a small dark blue Cape Cod–style house with white trim. “To me, that house spells traditions. If we lived there, I’d be in the kitchen, cooking dinner and wearing an apron over my dress—”
“And pearls, don’t forget the pearls,” Cole said.
“Those and high heels, of course. The house would be perfectly organized and clean, and my cooking would be impeccable. Then you would come home from work—”
“Precisely at five.”
“And kiss me on the cheek, then sit in the recliner, put your feet up and read the paper while I finish dinner.”
“That sounds like a great plan to me.”
She gave him a gentle slug. “Yeah, good for the guy. Not so good for the woman. So don’t get your hopes up, buddy, because it’s never happening. Besides, I still can’t cook.”
“You made a hell of a chicken potpie the other day.”
“With your help.” She gave him an appreciative nod.
“Well, if we lived there, I’d help you make chicken potpie, Em. As long as you wore high heels a lot.”
She shook her head, dismissing his words with a smile and a laugh. “Your turn. Pick a house.”
He gestured toward a boxy white Georgian-style house. “In that house, I live a life of leisure, playing video games all day and eating Cheetos.”
“And who is funding this life of leisure?”
“My bestselling novelist wife. Her first novel, Falling in Love with a Gamer, hits the top of the bestseller charts and makes us all wealthy beyond our dreams.”
