by Zoe York
Fucking hell.
He stood under the steam until the water temperature started to fade, then he gave his house the finger as he stalked upstairs.
But after he crawled into bed, he didn’t go to sleep. Instead, he called his secret fiancée.
Her voice was full of sleep as she answered. “Morning.”
He smiled at the mumble. “Sorry to wake you.”
“It’s okay.” She slurred the two words together, and the tension band around his head eased at the softness. “What’s wrong?”
“Bah. Stuff. Nothing. Just wanted to say hi before I went to bed.”
“No no, back up. What stuff?”
He screwed up his face, closed his eyes, and unloaded the whole story. She listened without interrupting. When he finished, he sighed. “That’s it. Then I called you because I didn’t know what to do next.”
“Go to bed. That’s what you do next. The hole will still be there when you wake up, and you’ll have more capacity to deal with it. I always need sleep before I fix things.”
“Do you?”
“Fuck yeah.”
He laughed out loud at the unexpected emphatic curse. “Fuck yeah,” he repeated quietly. “Thanks.”
“Adam?”
“Yeah?”
“Is anything else wrong? Are you getting cold feet?”
“I think that’s supposed to be the bride,” he muttered, his hand clenching hard on the phone. “Why? Are you?”
“No.” But the silence that followed told him she had been thinking about it. Wondering if it was a mistake, maybe.
Fatigue clawed at the inside of his eyelids, but this couldn’t be left half-addressed. “We have other options. I was thinking, because the offer is for any Pine Harbour resident or their immediate family, we don’t need to get married. I could buy it as a silent partner.”
“And then I would work for you? And we’d be roommates? What would your brothers say about you buying a business at the same time as buying a house and starting a new career?”
He groaned. Fuck. “That would be a disaster.”
“I appreciate you giving me an out. But I don’t want one. Unless—”
“No. I don’t want one, either. I’m looking forward to you getting here. I really am.” This morning it felt like Isla was the only person in the entire world who understood him. He felt like that a lot. She believed in him just as much as he believed in her.
The next week felt like a year. A disaster year that made Adam second-guess himself at every turn—and reinforced how grateful he was going to be when Isla came back to Pine Harbour with him.
Isla texted him that she’d picked up a marriage license and booked an appointment to get married at Toronto City Hall, and a not-unexpected but still surprising relief washed over him. This plan was going to work.
He checked the bakery sales listing every day, to make sure it was still available, and he thought about contacting Anne Minelli, telling her he was marrying a baker who would want to take over her cafe, but something held him back.
His brothers hearing about it. That was what was holding him back. He didn’t want their opinions. He didn’t want to hear that he was rushing into this, that it was a mistake to get married quickly or at all. Or might be even worse if they would be relieved, which was wild, because that was what he wanted. He wanted them to know he had a partner and didn’t need them anymore.
And yet, he didn’t want them to be the ones to say it.
He was doing this himself. For his own reasons. For Isla. For them, and their unconventional bond.
It was private and didn’t need outside justification or support.
What Adam really wanted—what he needed—was space.
And a wife, he found himself realizing more and more each day.
So when Isla texted him in the middle of another rough shift, he tuned out the pointed “helpful tips” Richard was lobbing his way and checked the message. He was glad he did, because it made his day.
Isla: I got the marriage license!
It was exactly what he needed to hear. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t do everything himself, all on his own, because soon he wouldn’t need to. He’d have a partner who would carry some of the load with him. He didn’t even need Isla to carry anything, just to be there and believe in him.
Adam: That’s awesome. Hey, should I buy you a ring?
Isla: We can get something simple.
Adam: I’ll take care of it.
Isla: You should have one, too. I’ll get that.
Isla: What size ring do you wear?
Adam: I have no idea.
Then he sent a grinning emoji, which matched his face. From across the table, Stan cleared his throat. “You either won the lottery or that’s someone special.”
Adam thought it might be possibly both. “Yep. Her name is Isla.”
“She from around here?”
He put his phone in his pocket. “No. But she’s moving here soon.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Yeah. It is.” He swallowed the rest of the explanation. He couldn’t tell anyone in this building—or in this town—about the elopement until after it was over, or there would be hell to pay.
His brothers would understand him and Isla doing something quiet. They would never understand hearing about it secondhand.
Chapter Nine
For her second wedding, Isla wore a yellow sundress. Adam wore a black suit, and after he picked her up, he stopped at a flower shop. “Wait here.”
When he came out, he was carrying a small cardboard box. Blue and white flowers peaked out the top. He climbed back into the truck, looking a little nervous and a lot cute. “Okay, so…” He shoved the box at her, making her laugh.
“What are these?”
“Random wedding flowers they had inside. I was going to buy you a sunflower or something, and the clerk was working on these. I asked if she could make an extra one, and she sold me this.” He lifted it up. “A bridesmaid bouquet, apparently.”
Maybe that would be more luck. Her hands shook as she took it. And nestled beneath it was a boutonniere for his jacket, in matching blue and white.
“I’m probably never going to do this again,” he said. “Thought we might as well do it right.”
She set her flowers down in her lap and reached across to pick it up. “Can I put it on you?”
He grinned at her, his gaze a warm invitation. “Please do.”
“You still feel okay about not telling anyone we’re doing this? You don’t want your family here?”
He shook his head. “Eloping feels like the right fit for what we’re doing. I don’t want to make this anything it isn’t.” Covering her hand with his, he pressed her fingers into his chest. “I never want to lie to you. You know my real vow here is to be your steadfast friend, right?”
She nodded slowly. “Same.”
“All right, then let’s do this.”
When they arrived, they didn’t have to wait long. Another couple didn’t have witnesses, either, so they observed each other’s ceremonies. The other couple went first, then it was their turn.
Before they went to the front of the small room, Adam pulled out his phone and propped it on a ledge on the wall.
“Recording this for posterity.” He grinned again. “It’s my first time getting hitched, it’s kind of exciting.”
She slid her hand against his and squeezed his fingers, then told him the same thing he’d said outside the flower shop. “Let’s do this.”
The ceremony was simple and short.
Do you? He did.
And you? She did, too.
They exchanged their rings. The simple gold band around Isla’s finger felt strange but not wrong, and she clung to that feeling. It described what they were doing perfectly.
“You may seal your vows with a kiss.” The justice of the peace beamed at them, and Adam pulled her close, his scent enveloping her. She breathed in the solid dependability of him,
the warm trustworthiness, and closed her eyes as his lips met hers.
His kiss was perfect, too. Chaste but lingering, and when he pulled away, he leaned in again to press his forehead against hers. His dark eyes sparkled and he held her gaze until she smiled at him. It didn’t take long. She knew that this time would be different. This time, she had a husband who wanted the same things she wanted out of their relationship. So what if it wasn’t some super romantic ideal? A true partnership with a friend was better than that any day of the week.
Plus when he kissed her, or slid his hand around her waist like he was doing right now, she knew it wasn’t transactional. Ironic, that the most tit-for-tat relationship of her life would be the one where she didn’t stress about what a touch meant or if someone was keeping score.
“Good luck to the both of you,” the JP said.
They wouldn’t need it. They had something better than luck. They had a plan.
She had spent the last week packing up her apartment, so when they finished at the courthouse, they went straight to her place. She got changed first, her sundress being swapped out for yoga pants and a t-shirt. Then Adam ditched his suit and emerged from her bathroom in jeans.
“What do you think we should do with these?” Isla gestured to the flowers. “It’s probably bad luck to toss them, right?”
“We’ll take them with us.” He lifted the lid off a box from her kitchen. It was full of mixing bowls and utensils, and the bouquet fit perfectly inside the top bowl. “There.”
It didn’t take long to pack her entire life into the back of Adam’s truck, and then they convoyed north. It was dark by the time they arrived in Pine Harbour.
Her second wedding night was going to be spent unpacking.
You need to stop comparing the two marriages. Jackass is in the past now. She made a silent promise to herself that for the rest of the night, she would only think about what was to come.
The bakery.
Her plans.
That was her future, and all she needed to think about.
As Adam had promised, it wasn’t awkward for Isla to wake up on her first full day as his wife and have no idea where her husband was. She had the house to herself, it seemed, so she put on a pot of coffee and happily had a long shower while that brewed.
When she returned to the kitchen, he was back. “Morning,” he said with an easy smile. “You were sound asleep when I got up, so I went to Mac’s to grab some breakfast sandwiches, and then swung past the hair salon to check Catie’s business hours today. She’ll be open in an hour.”
Butterflies swarmed inside her as she peeked inside the takeout bag. “Wow. You’ve been busy.”
“I don’t want to impose at all, but I figured…food is always good. And time spent on reconnaissance—”
“—is seldom wasted.” Isla grinned after finishing the thought. “Excellent recce job.”
“Happy to be your scout as needed. Do you want me to come with you to talk to her about putting in an offer?”
“It might be easier to do it on my own.” She thought about what she would say. So I married a Kincaid brother just so I could show up and ask about buying a building. Not that, that was for sure. “Or it might be easier to have you there as the bonafide local? I dunno. I’m nervous either way.”
“I’m a phone call away. And Catie is nice.” He came to stand next to her and dug out a sandwich. “Want to eat and think on it?”
In the end, fortified with greasy goodness from the diner, she decided to go on her own. She walked, wanting to absorb as much of the town as possible on her way to stake a claim on a part of it.
Would the people who lived in these houses want cookies and tarts? She’d run a number of projections. She knew the population for the area, for the entire peninsula, and how many tourists came up on the weekends from the cities further south. She didn’t need the town of Pine Harbour to support her business for it to be a success. She could focus her production toward weekend events, and she had a line on two local markets as well—and stalls there were a fraction of what they cost in the city.
She had options. She just needed a kitchen.
When she turned onto Main Street, she saw the cafe ahead on the next block. It was a corner building, very pretty, and she wanted it with an intensity that surprised her. Adam had been keeping tabs on it covertly, and they knew there weren’t any other interested buyers.
Now she just needed to brass it out while she introduced herself to the realtor.
She stopped in front of Catie’s Cuts, which was conveniently located across the street from the cafe. She could keep her eye on the prize and say whatever needed to be said here.
A sign in the window declared the salon open, and it didn’t look like there were any customers inside yet. She pulled the door open and stepped inside. It smelled nice, like a fancy salon in the city, and the faintest strains of spa music played. Just enough to set a mood, but quietly. Unobtrusive.
From the back, a woman’s voice called out. “Be right there!”
That gave Isla another minute to look around. There was a single stylist chair on one side of the room, and two hair dryer chairs at the back. On the other side of the room was a desk clearly dedicated to the real estate business, although it looked like that was where hair clients probably settled up, too. It left a lot of open space, and the proprietor hadn’t tried to fill it. Despite the folksy feel of two businesses in one, the whole aesthetic was quite modern, like a city loft.
It gave Isla some hope that her plans for the cafe might work. A spare, bright, modern take on a bakery.
That dream grew a little more when the stylist slash realtor appeared, and she was the human version of her salon. Orange eye shadow, blunt blonde bob, and wide, welcoming smile. “How can I help you?”
“I have questions about the cafe for sale?”
“You’ve come to the right place. I’m Catie Berton. Have a seat.”
“Isla Petersen. I just moved here. I married Adam Kincaid.” There. She did it. She said the ridiculous thing.
“Oh, wow! Congratulations!” Catie’s gaze dropped to Isla’s bare hand.
Rings. Right. She’d done this before. She needed to actually wear the ring Adam had bought her.
But then the realtor lifted her gaze, and her smile was just as big as it had been before. “When did you get married?”
“Well, that’s the thing. About the bakery, and the…offer. For Pine Harbour residents and their families. Adam and I started dating in the summer. And we eloped so I would be eligible to buy the bakery.” It sounded so obviously a scam, Isla’s pulse ratcheted up. But she wasn’t going to lie, other than the fib about dating. They’d had dinner. Twice. Went dancing. Slept together. That counted. “I’m here to find out more about that offer.”
Catie pulled a printed information sheet out of a file folder and slid it across. “Here’s the listing. There are some addendums to the discounted listing price for Pine Harbour residents that you should know about. The bakery cannot be sold again for five years, so there is a commitment there to keep it open. It must operate at least five days a week for at least partial food service. A temporary closure for renovations is allowed.”
“Is there any requirement that a marriage…” Isla’s tongue felt thick in her mouth. Be real?
Catie didn’t seem to notice. “There is no requirement that a marriage needs to have lasted any length of time.” She pointed to another line. “It is simply any long-term (five years or more) Pine Harbour resident, or any member of their immediate family (children, spouses, or legal dependents).”
“I meet all of those requirements.” Five days a week of partial food service would be a challenge, but she could do it. She would find a way. It was too good to turn down. She took a deep breath. “Do you need more information from me? I would like to make an offer.”
“Here is the paperwork for that. Your spouse will need to sign it, as the long-term resident, and the seller is asking for a business p
lan to be attached as well.”
That Isla could do, and not even feel a little bit like a fraud while she did it. She handed over her business card. “I’ll get this to you by the end of the day. Thank you. And in the meantime, you can check out my Instagram account. I did pop-up bake sales in Toronto all summer.” Four of them, supported by her school. Minor details. “That’s how I plan to use the cafe. As a daily bake sale.”
Catie picked up her phone, and Isla knew the minute she’d won the realtor over. “You make these Rice Krispies squares?”
“I sure do.”
“Wow. They look amazing.” The other woman beamed. “I look forward to presenting your offer to the seller. Good luck. And welcome to Pine Harbour.”
She nearly ran all the way back to Adam’s house. Their house, now, because this was actually going to happen.
He was in the front yard, cutting back overgrown bushes, when she skipped up the driveway. “That looks like it went well,” he called out.
She pulled the papers from her satchel. “We have work to do!”
He immediately set down the chainsaw he’d been holding. “Awesome.”
“You can finish—”
“Later.” He pulled off his work gloves. “Show me what you need.”
“I already have business plans. They want to see that. The offer is basically a forgivable loan, without any payments. So I can buy the cafe for a dollar, on the understanding that I operate it for five years. I need to…” She read the exact language. “Have consistent, regular food service, five days a week. Holiday and seasonal reduction is allowed, but year round partial service is expected.”
“That’s detailed.”
“She wants her cafe to still serve the community, and I…” Isla clutched the papers to her chest and spun around in a circle. “I get it. Oh, Adam. This is really happening.”
“What do you need from me?”
“You need to sign it as my spouse. And we need to get it notarized. I told Catie that we eloped so I could make this offer. So it’s time to tell your brothers, if you’re ready?”
