I glared at her. “Want to know what I’m reflecting on?”
She rolled her eyes as if my anger was completely uncalled for. “Abby, let it go. I apologized. But you need to understand that Knox is your one true love. It’s a fact. Everyone knows it, even his mom.”
His mom?
We moved into a standing position, lifting our arms high over our heads. Something in my back cracked and I had a horrible feeling I would feel that later on in the day. My ribs were finally starting to feel better and I couldn’t risk injuring myself again from doing something as simple and- supposedly- painless as yoga.
“You talked to Amy?” my tone immediately softened at the mention of Knox’s mother.
Simone seemed to notice and nodded enthusiastically. “Yup. She comes into the shop anytime there’s a holiday that involves presents. She always asks about you.”
My heart ached. Amy Fitzgerald had been like a mother to me when I was dating her son. She made me home-cooked meals and scolded me and praised me. She was truly the definition of a good mother. Always supportive, giving advice when solicited- and sometimes not- and loving me unconditionally. There were so many times when I was living in New York that I wanted to call or email her, especially after Knox’s dad passed. But I was too much of a coward to go through with it, fearing that she hated me after the way things ended between me and her only son.
I missed her, though. She was like the mother I didn’t have.
Not to say that my own mom didn’t care about me. My mother loved her children in a weird, borderline narcissistic way. She toted us around town to restaurant openings and town functions and parties. But, truthfully, I was honest enough to admit that there were times when each of us felt as though we were more props than offspring.
It wasn’t necessarily “normal”. But it was my life and I could either complain about it or appreciate the fact that I, technically, had two mothers while I was an adolescent.
“Why don’t you stop by and see her? She’s still living in the house.”
I lowered my arms, forgetting we were in the middle of a yoga class. “Knox still lives there with her, right?”
Simone shook her head.
“She lives in that big old house all alone?”
Multiple people in the class shushed me and I got back into position, shooting a few glares before turning back to Simone who said, “Yeah, Knox said she didn’t have it in her to sell the place after his dad died.”
My heart broke for Amy. Losing her husband so suddenly must have completely shattered her. I didn’t blame her for not selling the place. There were too many memories, too much familiarity.
“Wow,” was all I could manage.
“But,” Simone said and reached out, flicking me on the nose. “That’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about you and Knox getting back together.”
All at once, my irritation was back and I spent the rest of the class with a scowl on my face. I was also adult enough to admit that it wasn’t only irritation that was making me scowl. There was still an intense attraction toward Knox and it was throwing me off. I didn’t understand why, after five years, I wasn’t completely over him and the quiet way he spoke, the confident way he held himself. For so long, I told myself I was over him. But all it took was run in on the beach and I was threatening to fall down the rabbit hole again.
On our walk home I spent a good part of it discussing boundaries with Simone until she finally relented and told me she wouldn’t say anything to anyone about what we’d discussed.
“I love you,” I said as we walked arm in arm down the sidewalk. “You have my best interests at heart and I know how lucky I am to have someone that cares about me as much as you do. But I just… need you to back off a little.”
Simone nodded her head and looked around, completely undeterred. “Deal, and I’m sorry if you feel like I betrayed you in any way. I just, well, I know how much you loved him.”
“That was years ago and it’s clear that he and I are both very different now.”
Simone nodded her head and I couldn’t help but feel like I was walking into a trap. “Yes! You’re both different now, more level headed. Things could be so much better now.”
I threw my head back and groaned. The girl was absolutely relentless when it came to matters of the heart. Simone had a way with words, though. She knew how to be honest but not brutal, firm but gentle.
“Listen, just let me figure it out, okay? Promise you won’t say anything to Knox, his mother, or anyone else in this town.”
She hesitated but then nodded her agreement. “Fine, but I’m not letting this go.”
She was telling the truth.
I wasn’t turning a blind eye to what Simone said, and I hated to admit it, but saying that Knox was my one true love really resonated with me. What if it was true? If he was actually the only man I’d ever love, what did that mean for me?
It wasn’t something I wanted to think about.
“Hey,” she said as we were walking past Kalili Jewels. “You mind if I pop in for just a minute? I hired some high school girl part-time and want to make sure she’s doing okay.”
I nodded my head and followed her inside. It was just past ten and the shop already had a few customers. While Simone made her way to the cash register, I busied myself with straightening up one of the displays, admiring the fact that my friend paid such close attention to detail on every piece she made.
“Never in a million years did I think Abby Ashford would show her ugly mug around here again.”
I turned at the sound of a man’s voice, one that wasn’t quite familiar but wasn’t completely unfamiliar either. “Excuse me, but who the fu-” I paused and squinted at the man behind the voice. “Caleb? Caleb Bishop?”
He smiled a lopsided grin and lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah, I guess the facial hair doesn’t do much to make me look like a grown man.”
I launched myself at him with a shriek, wrapping my arms around him and bouncing on the balls of my feet. “Look at you! Caleb Bishop… wow.”
From somewhere in the store I heard Simone laugh.
“I haven’t seen you since, what? Graduation?” I said, awestruck at the transformation that was Caleb Bishop.
Gone were the geeky, wire rimmed glasses that he wore all through school and were replaced by chic, black rimmed hipster glasses. His brown hair was slicked back in a perpetually tousled kind of way and the scruff on his face gave him a bit of an edge. But one thing was certain: Caleb looked damn good.
“You look great,” he gestured up and down with his hand and then almost immediately shook his head. “I wasn’t checking you out or anything. You just… you look good.”
I smiled. Good to know at least one thing didn’t change. He was still just as shy now as he was in high school.
Caleb and I had worked on the school paper together all four years of high school. It was fun and we always gave each other the best feedback. He really had been a good friend, always offering me an ear when my parents were stressing me out or if I was having issues with Knox. I appreciated his quiet demeanor and his writing skills. After graduation and after leaving the state we lost touch the way some high school friends do. But I still thought of him from time to time and hoped he was doing well.
High school hadn't been easy for Caleb. Being skinny and awkward had made him an easy target for bullies and he’d often come into class with a ripped shirt or snapped glasses, sometimes with sopping wet school books because some asshole poured soda on them.
“You do, too. How are you? Catch me up. Girlfriend? Boyfriend? I hear your dream came true, Mr. Port James Tribune.”
“I’m good. No girlfriend, definitely no boyfriend. Working there is crazy, but I’m loving every second of it.
In high school, he’d always talked about his goal of becoming a journalist in town. It was his endgame. The Port James Tribune was a good gig and one of the most popular newspapers on the south shore. “Wow, th
ings really went your way, huh?”
He nodded. “Yeah, surprisingly. I’m still living in town over by The Pelican. I wanted to stay close to my dad, you know?”
I remembered hearing that Caleb’s dad was still owning and operating The Pelican, a popular bar among the Port James locals. I’d met Joseph Bishop a few times and he was always supportive of his son’s dream of being a journalist. The two seemed to be two peas in a pod.
We made small talk for a while and I filled him in on my career in New York and he told me about his journey through college and finally landing a job at the PJT. It felt good to connect with him again and I felt guilty for not reaching out sooner, but I’d been so preoccupied with finding a new normal that I didn’t think to get in touch.
“So,” he said after a bit. “I’m assuming you spoke to your mom.”
I nodded my head, knowing what was coming next. “She may have mentioned something about an interview.”
“My boss is pretty adamant about it. Everyone wants to hear from you, Abby. You’re the town’s golden girl. I’m not here to pressure you into it, but I’d really love to hear from you.”
“I don’t know…” I trailed off, unsure. Did I want that kind of attention? I’d been radio silent on social media because of what happened in New York and I didn’t want to risk stirring the pot. But if my stalker was all the way back in New York how would he know about a small newspaper article in another state?
“Just consider it,” he said as we stepped outside of the shop and onto the back deck. Business was picking up and I could barely hear him over the raised voices of customers who wanted to know if it was sterling silver or nickel.
“Give me your number,” I said and handed him my phone. “I’ll think about it.”
I hated to admit it, but I must have done something right by going to that yoga class because the second I got back to Robbie’s I passed out on the couch, not even stirring when he threw a blanket over me. It was the first solid five hours of sleep I got in more than a week. I awoke late afternoon feeling refreshed and with more energy than I could handle. Opting to skip out on coffee, which was very rare for me, I made a few phone calls to my mother, Dr. Van Sant and a detective back in New York who was working my case.
As expected, there were no new leads. I knew there wouldn’t be. He was too smart, too quick to disappear. Plus, there were some serious crimes in the city, and I was smart enough to know that mine took the back burner.
Trying not to dwell on the fear that I would never have any answers, I showered and spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up Robbie’s house, finding out that he had canned food that expired three years ago. I finally unpacked my suitcases, not knowing what the future had in store for me. All I knew was that I couldn’t live out of suitcases and, for the time being, I needed to be home and surrounded by my family.
But not having a home of my own made me restless. Taking a deep breath, I smoothed my hands down my legs and looked around. I was staying in a guest bedroom, sitting on a bed that wasn’t mine, in a house that didn’t belong to me.
God, what a pity party I was having.
It was true, though. I was so mixed up, all I wanted to do was scream out my frustration. I was happy to be home, happy to be bonding with my brothers and Simone, but not having my own space killed me. My whole life had been upended by some unknown freak with an agenda and I simultaneously wanted to punch my ex boyfriend and shove my tongue down his throat.
I stood and looked at myself in the full length mirror. Taking notice that the bruise around my eye was finally starting to fade and the cut on my lip was gone, I tried to smile only for it to come out as a grimace. My blonde hair was piled on my head in a messy knot and there wasn’t an ounce of makeup on my face.
“My sister is such a beauty,” Robbie said, appearing at my door.
“She’s my sister, too,” Logan appeared next to him, shouldering his way in front of Robbie and holding up a brown paper bag. “Chinese?”
If there was anything in this world that could make me feel better, it was chicken lo mein.
Downstairs, we grabbed paper plates and a roll of paper towels before tossing everything in the center of the table. Logan supplied the food, Robbie supplied the beer and I brought my appetite.
“I can’t believe you listen to country music now,” Logan said in disgust as Sam Hunt sang a ballad about tailgates and lightning on Robbie’s phone while we sat at the kitchen table.
I slurped a noodle into my mouth before pointing my chopsticks at my oldest brother. “Wasn’t Simone saying something about how she’s been on a Sam Hunt kick lately?”
Robbie cast his eyes down before shoving an entire chicken finger in his mouth. “I wouldn’t know, we don’t talk much.”
“Bullshit,” Logan coughed and then looked at me from across the table.
I dabbed the paper towel against my mouth before setting it down. “You and Sim have gotten awful close lately.”
Robbie’s eyes shot daggers at me across the table before turning to look at Logan. “Ask our sister who she ran into the other day.”
Logan didn’t miss a beat. “No, we’re talking about you.”
I laughed and stuck my tongue out at my oldest brother.
It struck me how much I missed them. I missed joking around and laughing instead of stressing over deadlines and dealing with bridezillas. My brothers were two of the best men I’d ever known, and I knew how fortunate I was to have them as not only my brothers but my protectors, too.
“We’re friends, that’s it.”
“Friends that kiss?”
“Friends that fuck?” Logan asked with raised eyebrows.
“Jesus Christ, the two of you are vultures. Vultures,” he emphasized the word before standing up with his plate and moving toward the living room.
I pouted at the table while Lo said, “Aw, come on! Don’t be such a big baby. You’re supposed to be setting an example for your little brother and sister.”
“Right. You guys are fucking relentless.”
We left the conversation at that, laughing and joking around, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something going on between Robbie and Simone. I wasn’t worried, I’d be able to pry the information out of my friend soon enough. Simone was, for the most part, an open book. She wore her heart on her sleeve and was a self proclaimed “emotionally intact intellectual”. I’d figure out whatever was going on between them.
After all, I would be home for a while.
Chapter 6
The next morning, I was in the middle of brewing a pot of coffee when a few sharp knocks at the door made me nearly jump out of my skin. It was the first morning I’d woken up alone in the house. Robbie, whose business was picking up for the summer season, left a note saying he’d gone in early to finish up a big order. Which was fine. I could handle being alone.
Totally fine. Not stressful at all.
“Totally fine,” I said now as I wiped my hands on my shorts and moved through the living room, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs. Stepping up to the door, I took a look through the peephole only to find it effectively blocked.
Is it him? How did he find me? There’s no way he could have- wait.
“Knox?” I called softly and pressed my ear against the door as I waited for a response.
“How’d you know?” He laughed, and I unlocked the door.
“You always used to cover the peephole with your thumb. Creep,” I said, the corners of my lips turning up. Down, girl, I thought as I looked him up and down.
“You look well rested,” he said and leaned a shoulder against the door frame.
“I feel good, or, as good as I can.”
He held up a brown paper bag with the Sundown Seafront Cafe logo on it. “Will this make you feel better?”
I took the bag and opened it, inhaling the delicious scent. “A double chocolate muffin? You must really feel like a dick.” I laughed and turned around, hearing his footsteps
as he followed me. Whenever a fight occurred while we were in a relationship, Knox would always apologize with a double chocolate muffin. I had a weakness for anything chocolate, so it was an almost instant fix to whatever argument we were having.
A sheepish look crossed his face. “I shouldn’t have brought any of that up the other day. I was an asshole.”
I offered him a small smile. “Bribing me with muffins and apologies, Fitzgerald?”
“Whatever works,” he responded and lifted on shoulder in a half shrug.
We sat down at the kitchen table and I dug into the chocolate ecstasy. Knox sat down next to me and we just… talked. Reminisced. Caught up.
“So, City, tell me about New York.”
I laughed at the nickname, ignoring the small flutter in my stomach at the endearment. “It’s… different,” I finally said. “It took some time to adjust and at first I thought it was so loud. But I suppose the anonymity is nice.”
Knox nodded his head and then smiled, cocking his head to the side as he stared at me. “It’s hard to picture you there.”
I wanted to respond and tell him that it wouldn’t have been hard to see me there if he’d just gone with me, but I kept my mouth shut. The past was the past and there was no reason to dwell on it. It was five years ago and I couldn’t change the things we said or the way we ended our relationship. All I could do was focus on the fact that I had a second chance at life, at coming home and seeing what Port James had to offer, because no matter how far I went, Port James was always going to be home. No matter how much I loved the city, I could never feel like I was totally myself. Yes, the anonymity was nice and I’d finally gone somewhere where no one knew the Ashford name. The pros were great, but even I was smart enough to know that, at this point, the cons were outweighing them.
“I did alright,” I responded modestly.
“Oh, trust me, I can tell.”
I rolled my eyes at his line and then laughed before switching gears and asking him about work and what life had been like over the last few years.
Keep Me Safe: A Small Town Suspenseful Love Story (Port James Book 1) Page 4
