Someplace Familiar (Laurel Cove Romance Book 1)

by Teresa Tysinger

  Jack’s steps were slow and deliberate toward his small office. The cold knob chilled his clammy hand. Lord, help me keep my cool. Inside, Claire looked through the same small window Jack had stared out just hours before. There was something childlike about her posture, arms wrapped around her narrow shoulders. Did she wipe a tear from her eye? He couldn’t be sure from where he stood. Memories flashed through his mind—happy ones and others he wished to forget. Then, like storm clouds parting to reveal blue skies, Livy’s beautiful face filled his mind. That cute messy braid. Her unforgettable emerald eyes. The sweet way her lips curled when she spoke of her grandmother.

  Jack sucked in a deep breath and stepped toward Claire. This had to end.

  “Do you have any idea how badly you hurt me?” Why was his throat tightening? She didn’t deserve his emotions.

  Claire closed the remaining distance between them and placed a hand on Jack’s chest. “Oh, that was so long…”

  “Enough. That is enough.” Jack grabbed her wrist and extended his other arm to encourage her to step back. “I was prepared to build a life for you. Our life. And you casually threw it away. For what? Some cheap thrills? You broke my trust in the very worst way. You did that, Claire. All by yourself. You were selfish and careless with our marriage and my feelings, with no regard for consequences. There is no world in which you and I have any future together. Do you understand me?”

  Fury shooting at him through her narrowed eyes quickly faded to a tempered blank stare. But the floorboards creaking under Jack’s shifting weight was the only sound in the office. His chest tightened, and he clenched his fists. “Do you understand, Claire?” His shout sent chills racing up his arms.

  “Yes.” Barely a whisper and she was gone.

  Jack let the weight of his body sink into the old chair in front of his desk. The encounter had lasted only a few minutes, but he might as well have run a marathon. He ached physically and mentally. Saying those things to Claire after all this time should have been therapeutic and brought him relief. And it would have, if he believed this would be the last he heard from her.

  As if on cue, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Reaching for it, he found an unfamiliar local number on the screen. “Hello?”

  The familiar sound of a car door slamming sounded in the background. “You sure know how to put me in my place, Jack Bowdon.” For crying out loud. In the time it took Claire to cross through the store and make it to her car, her temper had swung back and she sounded ready to fight.

  Jack rested his head on a hand propped up on the side of the chair. A headache began throbbing behind his eyes. “Claire, enough. Can’t we just be done with this? Please.”

  “Let’s just get one thing straight, Mr. Perfect. I wouldn’t have gone looking for those cheap thrills if you hadn’t always been so busy with your stupid building projects.” Jack could picture her pointing her finger at him, manicured nail and all.

  He shook his head—never mind that the biggest project was the cabin that was supposed to be their home. There was no arguing with her when she was like this. “Ok, Claire. Whatever.”

  Her rage-fueled huffs silenced. She exaggerated an inhale and exhale. “Jack, dear. I don’t mean to get so angry. My therapist wants me to practice breathing through these situations, but it’s hard. You know I don’t really blame you.” And just like that, the calm Claire was back. This was really something. Jack didn’t know whether to be annoyed or concerned. She continued, “Speaking of my therapist, why don’t you come with me sometime? Maybe it would be a good start to working all of this out and getting back to the good old days.”

  Jack couldn’t stifle an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry you’re struggling, Claire. I really am. But more than a year has passed. I’ve moved on and it’s about time you did, too. So, no, I won’t go. You’re on your own.”

  Jack listened for a reply but only heard a click disconnecting them. Lord, please let that be it. I don’t know how much more of that I can take. He believed God was in the business of miracles, but not hearing from Claire again surely would be a big one.

  ***

  “Well, here we are.” Jen rolled the car to a stop at the top of the hill.

  The sight of the inn pulled a sigh from Livy. She needed at least a few minutes to herself before meeting Jack for dinner at the cafe. Her body was a weight anchoring her, tired from wrestling the thoughts that kept creeping into her mind about Claire.

  Jen must have sensed the tension in her. “I’ll be praying for you, Liv. It’s not an easy position you’re in. Just trust God—and trust Jack.”

  “Thank you, Jen. And thank you for today. I’ll give you a call soon.” Livy’s cheeks tingled in the cool spring air as she made her way into the inn. Prayers from her friend did bring comfort, but they wouldn’t still the churning in her stomach, like riding violent waves on a stormy sea.

  Her room invited her in with a happy amber glow from the westward sun beginning its descent behind the mountains. Livy was due to meet Jack in about fifteen minutes. The anxiety of relaying to him what happened with Claire tamed the excitement of seeing him again after two days apart. How would he react? Had he heard from her?

  Livy swapped her T-shirt for a green knit sweater and worked her fingers through her braid so her hair fell down around her shoulders. With purse and key in hand, she stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut, but not before a final look at the painting leaning near the window.

  Jack had ignited the spark in her to paint again, made her feel alive and special and adored. She couldn’t wait another moment to see him. She made quick work of the short walk to the café.

  A crowd larger than she’d ever seen at Brewed filled the space with the hum of friends and family chatting over their meals. Another couple occupied their usual table near the window. Livy panned the restaurant twice before spotting Jack at a table in the very back. His head was down looking at his phone. She sat down and removed her lightweight coat before Jack looked up.

  He gave a halfhearted smile, eyes brooding over a furrowed brow. “Oh, hey there.” Something was up. She stiffened as the doubts resurged.

  “Hi.” She played up the enthusiasm to hide her concern. “How was your day?”

  “I’m not quite ready to talk about my day.” His short reply left her deflated. He took in a deep breath and managed a genuine smile. “But I sure am happy to be here with you now. It was strange being apart two whole days. I didn’t like it at all.” He reached for her hands across the table and gave them a squeeze. “What sounds good to you tonight? I think their special is chicken salad sandwiches and corn chowder.”

  “That sounds great.” She nodded and asked for an iced tea, too, before watching him cross the sea of people to place their order at the counter. She needed to be on guard and give him the chance to talk—if he would—before she told him about her run-in with Claire. Hopefully, he would confide in her, but she shouldn’t push.

  Livy’s chair faced the back wall of the café, which was decorated with various mismatched and multicolored framed mirrors. Livy found Jack’s reflection in a yellow-framed oval mirror. Meredith wrote their order on a ticket as Jack spoke. Jack said something more. Even through his reflection across the room, Livy noticed Jack’s jaw tense. He had the same look after Claire had called the day before. Meredith looked over to Livy.

  Livy’s seat creaked as she shifted her weight. She couldn’t take her eyes off the mirror—and Jack. What was going on? Meredith shook her head then reached for Jack’s hand. Jack paid and maneuvered his way back to their table.

  No. Livy wouldn’t let her worry get the best of her this time. Just trust Jack. Talk to him.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Jack?”

  Jack’s eyes closed as he leaned on his elbows and rubbed at his temples. “Thank you for caring. I’ve never been good at pretending everything is okay when it’s not. The last thing I wanted to do tonight is drag you down by complaining about my day—but it has been monum
entally awful.” The breath left her. She squirmed at the urge to go to his side and wrap her arms around him. Seeing Jack anything less than happy awakened an instinct in her to mobilize—find a way to both remedy and defend. Make it all better.

  “I’m sorry. What happened?” Livy offered him her hands again. It never occurred to her that his day could be as hard as hers. But her story could wait.

  “Remember yesterday when I received a call from Claire? After I got home, I listened to the message. She simply asked that I call her back as soon as I could. Usually the calls are made from some bar when she’s drunk. She’s sorry for her mistakes and wants to see me. But it was different this time.” Claire surely had been busy today. Livy’s grip on Jack’s hand tightened. “She showed up at the shop today. I didn’t want her to make a scene, so we talked in the office. Thinking of you gave me courage to say some things I’ve really needed to say.” He paused, and Livy’s breath caught again.

  Sam almost never said what he meant, littering their conversations with subtle suggestions, opinions, and jabs for Livy to decipher, but Jack wasn’t playing any games.

  “Livy, you make me feel stronger than I have in a long time. I finally feel like I deserve to move on past the heartache I’ve held on to so tightly.” A sincere determination resonated in his voice.

  Confidence rose up in Livy as his words sank in. They were healing one another’s heartache.

  Meredith called out their order number, and Jack retrieved their meals. Livy would need to fill him in on her ordeal, too. He returned with two plates and sat with arms crossed on the edge of the table. “Is this too much for you?”

  “No, it’s not too much, Jack. This is your life, so I’m interested.” Sure, it was unnerving to know Claire didn’t like her, but maybe it wasn’t too abnormal after a divorce.

  “It dawned on me standing there in the office with Claire, that I never told her face to face what her actions did to me. Throughout the divorce I was just so numb. So, I told her. It was hard and I let my anger get the best of me, but it had to be said. Now there’s no way she doesn’t know that it’s over.” His eyes darted back and forth across Livy’s face. Then his shoulders slumped, as if deflating in front of her, and his gaze fell to the table.

  “What did she say?” Livy gritted her teeth. What she’d give to have another shot at telling Claire what she thought now.

  He offered her a timid smile that bore deep into her—but it didn’t reveal hope, really. “Well, she walked out. But the relief only lasted a moment, because just a few moments later she called from her car. At first she was very defensive and gave me a few of the same excuses as before—that I was too busy and never available for her. She was angry and put the blame back on me. Then, like she has been doing off and on since she called last night, she changed her tune again on a dime. She admitted that she’s been seeing a therapist. She actually asked me to come with her to talk this out together.” His laugh reminded Livy of someone who was being swindled and knew it. He fixed his eyes on Livy for a long moment, as if searching her for something. The confident, charming Jack had faded.

  Anger toward Claire swirled with worry for Jack in the pit of Livy’s stomach. “Well, is that something you’re interested in?” Jack didn’t owe Claire anything. Livy tried to remain as impartial as possible, but her care for him made her completely biased.

  “No. I tried to be kind, but I was firm. Too much time has passed for this to be an us thing anymore. She’s on her own.” A warm and intense smile came over his face as his eyes locked on Livy’s, but it didn’t last longer than a second. He sipped his tea.

  From the little bit she’d seen during her own encounter with Claire, Livy could only imagine Claire’s reaction to not getting her way with Jack.

  “I was expecting her to blow up. Protest. Maybe even give me more of that fake sweet talk.” He shook his head. “But she just hung up without another word. I’ll tell you, Livy, the whole thing has left me pretty unsettled.”

  “I know what you mean.” Livy muttered the words as she took a bite of her sandwich.

  Jack froze and stared at her.

  “How would you know what I mean?” A deep wrinkle formed between his brows.

  “Well, I thought Meredith might have said something to you about it, but Jen and I ran into Claire today at the grocery store.” Livy searched Jack’s face for a reaction.

  He sat up straight, rubbing the side of his face hard with one hand, visibly irritated. “What did she say to you, Livy?”

  “Well, she made it pretty clear that she’d heard about you and I seeing each other. Apparently people around town have told her. And she said that even though you weren’t married now, you would be.” Livy wrinkled her nose, bracing herself for Jack’s response.

  He let out a belly laugh that drew looks from the other patrons. Livy startled, almost knocking over her glass.

  “That’s really rich,” he finally managed. “It’s so far-fetched that it’s actually funny. I guess that’s why she showed up today at the store. After hearing about you, then actually seeing you, she must have been jealous. Desperate.” He shook his head, still chuckling under his breath.

  “Well, she can be pretty intimidating.”

  “Oh, believe me, I know. There was something about her today that left me with chills up my spine.” Jack rubbed a thumb over the back of Livy’s hand, and his blue eyes softened.

  “Do you think she’s upset enough to do something…crazy?” Livy leaned in across the table, the words barely above a whisper.

  “I don’t think so. She obviously has no problem dragging you into it, though, which is truly the last thing I wanted. And just when we were having such a good time, you and me.” Jack returned a boyish grin. Livy couldn’t help returning a flirty look.

  “So, where do we go from here? What if Claire doesn’t back off?”

  “I honestly don’t know. Tell me you don’t scare easy?” They both laughed.

  But Livy’s stomach still flipped. Was she replacing one complicated relationship with another, just different sorts of complicated? She took in a deep breath. One thing was certain—Jack was a man worth standing her ground for.

  “I can’t promise I’ll always know the right thing to say or do. I’m pretty bad with confrontations, but I’m in this with you, Jack. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Jack’s eyes twinkled above a wide smile, looking for the first time that evening like the Jack she’d known the past several days. The old Jack. They finished their meals, both sitting taller and laughing more. Livy told Jack about her failed trip to Asheville in the rain, Marge and the gallery, and how she’d spent so much time painting.

  “What did you paint?” Jack asked as they were finishing their coffee.

  “Would you like me to show you?” Livy bit her bottom lip.

  His eyes widened. “Oh yeah. I’d love it.”

  Hand in hand, Jack and Livy walked to the inn as the last bright orange sliver of sun sank beneath the horizon. The spring sky, clear and clean after the rain passed, swept with strokes of brilliant pinks and purples. The town’s buildings and trees were silhouetted, intricate cutouts in a masterful creation.

  “This is my favorite time of day.” She tucked her arm under his, their steps falling into rhythm. Jack just sighed long and slow—sounding much more content than at the beginning of the evening.

  Together they climbed the slight hill toward the town square. Though thankful that dinner ended on a high note, Livy’s stomach fluttered waiting to show Jack the painting. Slowly she was peeling away layers of herself before him—each time bringing with it the hope of acceptance and fear of rejection.

  ***

  Staccato creaks sounded through the quiet inn as Jack followed Livy to her door. He’d seen each guest room countless times, of course. But there was something exciting about being inside the space where Livy lived. Jack stood close behind Livy as she unlocked the door. The braid falling over her shoulder exposed the soft skin of
her neck. Together they stepped into the cozy room lit only by a small table lamp. The same sweet scent of lavender he’d often admired on her cloaked the small quarters.

  “Well, this is it. Home sweet home—for now, anyways.” She hung her keys just inside the door.

  She was a neat tenant, with things stored where they would be had this been her actual home. There was no sign of living out of a suitcase. She attempted to discreetly stuff a black bra into a dresser drawer. Jack politely turned to focus on an old framed photo of the inn, his pressed lips reflecting back at him in the glass. Why did it have to be black? He had a thing for black lingerie.

  The room illuminated as Livy flipped a few switches. A makeshift painting station came into Jack’s view at the window, her coveralls draped over a wooden chair. A canvas, maybe two feet by three feet, leaned against the windowsill. He knew that view. It was the mountain range from the tall windows of his house, the same view he and Livy had admired together on their first date.

  “This is amazing.” He joined her at the window, his words just above a whisper. He didn’t know a lot about art, but he knew good art when he saw it. And this was good. He’d never seen such a unique style before. The strokes were long and smooth in some places, short and thick in others. There was no denying the subject, but the abstractness invited imagination. The freehand lines of the cabin melted into fluid forests, eventually becoming vivid sky. He could imagine Livy’s hand moving with grace over the canvas. Maybe one day he’d see for himself.

  “It’s for you.” Livy rubbed a hand across his back. “I won’t soon forget that night, and I didn’t want you to either.”

  “That’s not possible, honey.” Her thoughtfulness and talent amazed him. Her cheeks were cool in his hands, her mouth hot on his lips. Jack lowered himself into the chair in front of the desk, closing their difference in height. Livy nestled close to him with her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

  “Your aunt doesn’t make me swoon quite like you do when she calls me honey,” Livy said between soft pecks.