Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set

by Grover Swank, Denise

  It was too much.

  Georgie fought to keep from breaking down, while Adalia wrapped her arm around her sister’s back and whispered in her ear, “Don’t despair. True love always wins, Georgie.”

  Not always. A fact Georgie had on some level known since she was a little girl, even if she hadn’t understood her parents’ relationship yet.

  Adalia excused herself to help the tasting room staff clean up, but Dottie rushed over and pulled Georgie into a tight embrace before leaning back and staring into her face. “I know what you’re planning to do, but it’s not what Beau wanted. He knew what he was doing, Georgie. Trust in that. Buchanan Brewery really does need you.”

  How could Dottie know what she was planning? She couldn’t, which meant the older woman probably had some other crazy idea in her head. “Thanks, Dottie, but I intend to set things right.”

  Dottie gave her a long look. “Don’t make any decisions yet. Just come to the after-party and then sleep on it, okay?”

  Georgie shook her head. “I think I should just go home, Dottie. Besides, it’s for the employees, people who knew Beau, and I’m just the estranged granddaughter who came in and stole everything.”

  Tears swam in Dottie’s eyes. “You are so much more than that, Georgie, so much more. Just give him a bit of time, okay? Because not only are you exactly what Buchanan Brewery needs, you’re what my nephew needs too.”

  Georgie shook her head more vehemently. “No. He needs someone he can trust. Someone who won’t lie to him and take advantage of him. He needs someone who won’t let him down.”

  “Oh, Georgie,” Dottie said, cupping Georgie’s cheek. “That person doesn’t exist. No matter how much we try, we will always let down the people we love. It’s human nature. But it’s how you come back from it that matters.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Just give him more time.” She pressed something into Georgie’s hand and then walked away, calling over her shoulder, “And you will come to the after-party. Not a single one of us will take no for an answer.”

  Georgie opened her hand to see a two-inch, smooth, bright blue, striated stone with a small slip of paper. Dottie had written:

  Blue Lace Agate—good for communication and purification. Just rub your fingers over the stone. All will work out in the end, Georgie. Have faith.

  Love, Dottie

  Georgie only hoped Dottie was psychic too.

  With a sigh, she helped the staff shut everything down. Turned out she was going to the party after all.

  Chapter 38

  All of that, and he wasn’t going to make it.

  River had spent an uncommonly long time getting ready for the closing party, especially since he’d ended up choosing exactly the sort of outfit he always wore, a short-sleeved button-down and khakis, Beau’s watch tucked into the pocket of the pants. Georgie had encouraged him to be himself, and he couldn’t be himself and also wear a suit. But he’d walked out of the room to find Hops with melted chocolate all over his fur. For a moment, he’d thought the dog had had a massive accident that he’d maybe rolled in, but then he’d found the chocolate wrapper by the couch. Turned out his aunt had hidden a dark chocolate bar for him at Easter—Easter—without telling him. Which might have been a nice surprise if he’d found it in April.

  He’d panicked and immediately called Maisie, who’d walked him through what to do, which had involved giving Hops hydrogen peroxide to throw up. He’d needed to repeat it a couple of times before Hops actually vomited out the chocolate, and by then both of them were a mess, and slightly hysterical too. He’d changed his clothes and dropped Hops off with Maisie, who was at the shelter, not wanting to leave him alone after what had surely been a traumatizing experience. (Or at least it had been traumatizing for River.)

  As a nice bonus, one of Hops’s sisters had been back at the shelter. She hadn’t worked out with her foster family owing to some antagonism from a cat who sounded a bit like Jezebel, so she was temporarily staying with Maisie. But he hadn’t stuck around to watch the big reunion. One glance at Beau’s watch told him all he needed to know—he wasn’t going to make it. Or if he did, it would be too late for him to pull Georgie aside so they could talk privately.

  Aunt Dottie had texted and called him half a dozen times. (So had Adalia, whom he’d talked to after his call with Jack.) Georgie hadn’t said a thing, although no doubt she had to be assuming the worst. He had a pit in his stomach at the thought of what she must be thinking, and he also felt the ache of having missed an event he’d helped plan. The end of an era.

  He texted his aunt: I had a situation with Hops. Please, please, please make sure she goes to the after-party.

  She responded with a golden ring icon, which made him cringe a little.

  We’ll see. Most couples don’t get married after two weeks. Some don’t even get married after twenty years. ;-)

  Not that he’d wait twenty years, or even one, if Georgie forgave him. But he wasn’t about to encourage Aunt Dottie.

  He sent a quick text to Adalia too, repeating the story about Hops and the request that she encourage Georgie to show.

  Roger, she responded. But, oh boy, you better turn on the charm. You owe me one.

  As if his stomach weren’t already in knots…

  His call with Jack had been awkward, the way video calls usually are when they’re with near-strangers. Especially near-strangers who didn’t like you. But a phone call wouldn’t have cut it, because he’d needed Jack to see how much he meant it when he said, “I’m in love with your sister.”

  That’s the way he’d answered Jack when the guy had asked if anything had gone wrong with the party planning, and then, after glancing around the loft, where River was calling him from.

  Jack had looked pissed at first, understandably.

  “Did you not read the addition to the employee manual?” he’d asked. “Or did you just fail to understand it?”

  “Oh, I understood it, and we both know why you insisted on making that addition,” River said. “But I’m pretty sure she’s in love with me too. I know about the will now, Jack, and you need to know that I would never, ever sabotage Buchanan Brewery.” He swallowed. “Not just because it’s Georgie’s, but because it was Beau’s.” And because River would never do something like that anyway, but Jack struck him as a guy who liked solid reasons for things.

  “You didn’t know all along?” Jack asked, looking at him as if he were a human lie detector test.

  “I didn’t have a clue. We’d talked about his will before, and he knew I didn’t expect anything from him. He gave me more than enough while he was here.” And as he said it, he knew it was true. Whatever faults Beau had, he’d come by them honestly. He wouldn’t have intentionally made River feel used or disposable, not after all he’d done for him. “He was important to me. That means all of you are important to me too.”

  “But especially Georgie?” Jack asked with that same hint of humor.

  “Especially Georgie.”

  Her half-brother studied him for several seconds before nodding. “What do you want from me?” A corner of his mouth ticked up. “My blessing?”

  “I don’t want to hide that your sister means something to me, and I know she doesn’t want that either. I want that clause about fraternization to go away so we can be together out in the open. No more secrets.”

  He’d chosen the words intentionally, knowing that Jack and his mother had been Prescott Buchanan’s dirty little secret, and it was clear they’d made their mark. He saw the emotion flicker across Jack’s face.

  “My father will never accept you, you know.”

  The way he said it made River wonder just how well the son knew the father, and vice versa. Had they met in secret? Had they had a relationship of some kind? But really it was none of his business, so he simply said what he knew to be true. “I don’t care.”

  Jack nodded, and he thought he could see the glimmer of respect in his eyes. “I’ll do what I can,” he said. Silence hung betwe
en them for a moment, and then Jack shrugged, as if to say, My bad. “I’m sorry I misjudged you. I hope we can get to know each other better when I get back.”

  It was on the tip of River’s tongue to ask when that might be, but Jack had continued speaking. “Lee and I talked about the provision, so you’ll probably need his okay to strike it. Maybe I can get Adalia to talk to him. They seem close.”

  There was a tinge of bitterness in his tone.

  “I’ll talk to her,” River said. “She’s here in Asheville.”

  Surprise flickered across Jack’s face, and it was clear he wanted to ask how that had come about—that maybe he was more comfortable talking to River about it than his own siblings—but someone called out his name. A woman, her voice thick with annoyance. And Jack quickly said goodbye and hung up. Although the quick sign-off had intrigued River, he hadn’t taken any time to think about it—he’d picked up his phone and called Adalia.

  He had a key for Aunt Dottie’s place, but there was no need to use it. The door had been propped open, surrounded by bright paper lanterns that surely posed a fire risk, and there was a huge sign next to it that promised Art and Eccentricities. Another sign, reading Libations and Games, featured an arrow pointing out back. Aunt Dottie had a large yard, flattish for Asheville, and apparently they’d come up with some way to use it. Hopefully it didn’t involve drunk trampoline jumping.

  Maybe he should have stayed for the planning meeting after all. How were he and Georgie going to find a private place to talk in what would surely be a madhouse?

  “River?” a familiar voice called out. Josie stepped out of the door, decked out in a fairy costume complete with wings. “It’s me, Josie,” she said unnecessarily. “I’m wearing this to help create a sense of wonder. Dottie’s letting me do fortunes tonight, but don’t worry, she made me agree to a seventy-five-percent rate of positivity.”

  God help the other twenty-five percent.

  “You’re here early,” she commented. “The only other person who’s here is Lurch, and he’s out back setting up the cups for his mystery brew game.”

  Ugh. They’d gone through with the weird beer mixtures.

  “Yeah,” he said, “I had a situation with my dog.”

  My dog.

  Weirdly, he liked the sound of that. Even with everything that had happened this evening, he didn’t regret his decision to keep Hops—okay, he didn’t regret Maisie’s decision to strong-arm him into the adoption. It felt right. Just like this felt right.

  But he found himself remembering Adalia’s text. What had happened with Georgie? What if she’d changed her mind about him? About them? What if it was too late after all?

  “Don’t you look all broody,” Josie said. “I need to channel that look.”

  “Trust me, you don’t,” he muttered. “Do you need help setting up?”

  “Nah,” she said. “We finished everything up with Dottie earlier. But come in and take a look.”

  He did, feeling a pang of uneasiness as he remembered another night, another party setup.

  And a couple of details were reminiscent of the night of the séance. The Beau statue stood in the middle of the living room. He had on a merch shirt, one of the old ones that looked like an explosion was imminent, and someone had added a pair of Bermuda shorts. An empty can of Beau Brown was wedged into his hand. Or at least River hoped it was empty. From a distance, it looked like it could be a Weekend at Bernie’s situation.

  A large box of crystals sat by the door, along with a sign that said, Take One. Or Two! Find the Crystals that Speak to You. Luckily, the pink crystal dick had not been left out as the recommended method of selection, although he was certain it was hidden somewhere within the house. Small blessings.

  The big dining room table had been set up with pads of paper, colored pencils, and even some paints (which were liable to get all over the place if things got really raucous).

  Honor Buchanan as it was. Imagine it as it will be, the sign said. There was a box for finished pieces.

  Another sign advertised fortune-tellings, the arrow pointing toward the room that had been River’s. Find out your future…if you dare, the sign said. In smaller text beneath that, it read, At least ¼ may learn something devastating.

  He followed the sign and discovered a small two-person beach tent that had been set up within the room, taking up nearly all the available space. Although he knew it to be a fortune-telling tent owing to the scarfs that had been chaotically cast over the top, the ends brushing over the open side facing one of the house’s rear-facing window, it didn’t much look like one. It had a design of waves on the side and the slogan Ride the wave, with a little handwritten sign taped up next to it reading of fate. Any larger employees would have to crouch to fit into it.

  For a second, River just stood there and took it in. Then he turned and smiled at Josie, who’d followed him. “This is perfect.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t mind that we put it in here,” Josie said. “Dottie said it was your old room.”

  And his old tent, it looked like.

  “No, I don’t mind at all.”

  “Your aunt suggested it might be a good idea to allow for privacy. You know, in case someone learns something they don’t like. Wait until you see out back!” she said with a grin.

  He headed over to the plate glass door at the back of the living room and looked out. More of those paper lanterns were everywhere, and he had to admit it looked kind of nice beyond being an obvious fire hazard. There was a tub of tiny flashlights just beyond the door, and he could tell they’d been bedazzled with a generous hand.

  Take one. Make your inner light an outer light, the sign read.

  Lurch stood by a large table of drinks and refreshments—which were luckily not limited to earth tones—making his mixed beers like Frankenstein had his monster, and setting them out on a small side table in red plastic cups. Seeing him, Lurch waved and grinned. He must’ve been sampling what he was pouring, because he’d drawn a smiley face on his bald head with a Sharpie.

  While there wasn’t a trampoline, someone had gotten a giant bouncy castle, which was surely just as questionable. There also looked to be some sort of raffle station, with prizes laid out with buckets in front of them.

  His grin grew wider. This was crazy. This was magical. This was Aunt Dottie, through and through, and not the darker side of her that had been on display that night at the séance. Tonight was about celebration. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the watch. Remembered what his aunt had told him about it. “You guys really went all out, huh? This is going to be the best party Asheville has ever seen.”

  If Georgie came.

  “Just wait until the donkey gets here,” Josie commented. “Aren’t you going to pick your crystal?”

  He reached into the box and picked a pink one, sending up positive wishes as he pocketed it.

  “Can you do me a favor?” he asked, and Josie lit up as if he’d offered to do one for her.

  Chapter 39

  Dottie had tried to get Georgie to leave for the after-party with her, before everyone else took off, but Georgie had dug in her heels. She was still digging them in, although Adalia had taken over where Dottie had left off. There’d been an actual look exchanged between the two as Dottie left, as if she were passing on the baton. But Georgie could be stubborn when the situation required it. She didn’t want to go to the party in the first place, and if they were among the last to arrive, then surely they could leave that much sooner. “I need to straighten up my office.”

  “Please,” Adalia groaned dramatically. “Your desk is so clean you could lick ice cream off it. Let’s go. I’m dying to see the crystal statue in person.”

  Georgie’s brow lifted. “He’s supposed to be wearing clothes now, but with Dottie, there’s no guarantee.”

  “Well, I should hope not,” Adalia said. “I want to see it in all of its glory.”

  Shuddering, Georgie said, “Do I need to remind you that it’s a
naked statue of our grandfather? I saw it in person and my retinas are probably permanently scarred. I’m not sure you should risk your art career.”

  Adalia’s smile fell.

  Georgie felt awful for being so flippant. “Sorry, Addy. Your career’s not over, you know.”

  With a weary exhale, Adalia said, “This isn’t about me. It’s about you.” She made a face. “Wait. This is about me. I want to see the crystal dick sculpture, and I need you to make it happen.”

  So Georgie grudgingly agreed to leave, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep stalling for long. Most of the staff had already left.

  * * *

  The street was lined with cars and Dottie’s entire purple house was lit up. K-pop music boomed from the backyard, seeming wildly incongruous with the location, and the front was filled with paper lanterns—total fire hazard—and a mini Stonehenge, made with three-foot-tall stones and a small water garden in the middle.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Adalia asked as they walked toward the driveway.

  Georgie gave her the side-eye. “If you’re asking if we can time travel to seventeenth-century Scotland by touching the stones, then I find that an acceptable alternative to attending this party.”

  Adalia rolled her eyes. “And I thought that I was the dramatic one. You’re supposed to be the voice of reason.”

  And ordinarily she would be, but she’d held it together for hours, and all she wanted to do was go home, open a bottle of wine, and drown her sorrows. Of course, the only bottle of wine she had in her possession was the second bottle River had left, which made it even more bittersweet. She stopped, then took a slow step backward. “I think I’m going to just head home.”

  “No,” Adalia cried out. “You’re already here. You should at least come in and make an appearance.”

  Georgie cringed. “No…I think it would be better if I just go.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Georgie. Just come inside.” Adalia grabbed her arm and started to tug.