by Teri Wilson
Of course, if her plan worked out the way she intended, she wouldn’t have to give that up. She gave Lucy a quick hug, grabbed her coat and darted for the door. “Thank you.”
The Oregon air smelled like pine and felt cool on her face as she made her way down the sidewalk, dialing Sawyer’s number as she went. She tried not to think about the fact that she’d somehow managed to memorize his cell number since he’d been back in town or that she’d had to stop herself from dialing it a few times.
Waterford felt different, now that Sawyer was back. Jamie woke up every morning feeling alive in a way she hadn’t in a very long time, the day stretching before her like an enchanted, shimmering world of possibility. She knew it didn’t make sense. The future—specifically, her future and the future of True Love—was anything but certain right now. Waking up feeling like an anvil had been placed dead in the center of her chest would have made more sense.
But she couldn’t quite help it. Truthfully, she’d enjoyed every moment she’d spent with Sawyer in the past few days, even the moments they’d spent arguing. It boggled the mind.
She refused to let that enjoyment distract from her mission, though. She and Sawyer were not Mary and Harrison. The most important thing was saving True Love—way more important than any doomed attempt at a relationship with Sawyer. She could tell that Sawyer was beginning to reconnect with Waterford, though. She’d even been fool enough to believe that his recent pizza-tossing episode had been a simple sentimental exercise instead of a way to persuade Chuck and his dad to succumb to the dark side.
Still, he seemed more and more at home there every day. If she could just get him to see that Waterford was truly worth saving just as it was, she knew he’d come around. She wasn’t sure when exactly it had happened—probably sometime around the moment she’d witnessed him feasting on Sundae Madness at Jeff’s—but she’d come to the conclusion that deep down, he was still the same Sawyer O’Dell she’d fallen in love with. He just didn’t know it.
All Jamie needed to do was remind him…
Without accidentally falling in love with him all over again in the process.
No problem at all.
She’d have to be the biggest fool in the world to make that mistake.
Sawyer didn’t have a clue why Jamie wanted him to drop everything he was doing and meet her at town hall, but he was ninety-nine percent certain it didn’t have anything to do with signing the Ridley offer.
Make that one hundred percent. He knew Jamie well enough to know that she’d never, ever turn her back on True Love. Still, he did indeed drop everything he was doing the minute she called. Dana had made it expressly clear that he was supposed to keep the lines of communication with Jamie open. He didn’t have much of a choice.
Keep telling yourself that, he thought as he jammed his hands in the pockets of his puffer vest and crisscrossed the quaint maze of blocks in the business district, making his way toward Jamie. He wasn’t Ridley’s lackey. He wasn’t even an employee yet, so he definitely had a choice in the matter. Like so many times before, he simply chose Jamie.
He was beginning to suspect that he always would.
Dial it down, Romeo. She didn’t ask you to run off into the sunset with her. This probably isn’t even a date.
The realization was surprisingly disappointing. Still, his breath hitched when he spotted her standing in the street with her face tipped upward, blond waves tumbling down her back as she gazed at the old church’s spire. The reverence in her eyes made his heart hurt. And he was suddenly very glad his hands were safely buried in his pockets to prevent him from acting on the crazy impulse he had to bury his hands in her hair and kiss her right there in the middle of the street.
He slowed to a stop a few feet away, content to just watch her for a brief, unguarded moment—a sacred sliver of time in which neither of them was hiding behind an agenda. It was as excruciating as it was precious, mainly because he didn’t want it to end.
Then she turned and smiled at him—the most open, easy smile she’d bestowed him since he’d stepped back into her life. For a split second, he was seventeen again.
“Thanks for meeting me.” She squared her shoulders, preparing for battle, and the moment vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
He nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak when there was suddenly an aching hole in the place where his heart used to be.
“This used to be your favorite building in Waterford.” Her gaze flitted back to the town hall’s sturdy brick and aged yellow clapboard. “You drew it all the time.”
He stepped closer until they were shoulder-to-shoulder, both gazing in the same direction for once. “I did it in watercolors, too. It always reminded me of someplace grand.”
“Well, it originally was a church,” she said in her best tour guide voice. “And now it has been repurposed to be a town hall and a theatre.”
Sawyer was beginning to get an idea what her surprise invitation had really been about.
She tilted her head and studied him in a way that made his pulse kick up a notch. “You know, you say you’re a ‘hometown boy,’ but did you actually miss your hometown while you were away?”
“Honestly?” He didn’t realize how ashamed he was of the truth until he had to say it out loud. “I’ve been too busy with work or looking for the next project to do much of anything else.”
Jamie didn’t judge him, though. That had never been her style. Instead, she twirled in a quick little spin on her toes and waved at him to follow her. “Then let me remind you of what you left behind.”
Okay, then.
Sawyer jogged to catch up with her, and what followed could only be described as a determined effort on Jamie’s part to reacquaint him with every square inch of Waterford, with no stone left unturned.
They started at the duck pond, where a pair of cruiser bicycles were waiting for them. One of them belonged to Jamie and the other looked suspiciously like one Sawyer had seen recently in Rick’s garage. Sawyer couldn’t remember the last time he’d ridden a bike that hadn’t been bolted to the floor of a gym. He climbed aboard and pedaled after Jamie, appreciating the difference within seconds. The wind rippled through his hair, numbing his face as they made a wide loop around the water, weaving in and around oak trees, branches tipped green with the promise of new spring growth.
They zipped past couples walking hand-in-hand and parents with small children whose fingertips were nestled in homemade knitted mittens—the kind Sawyer’s grandmother had made for him when he was a boy. The old lampposts lining the path had been painted bright cherry-red since he’d moved away, and new park benches perched at the water’s edge. Ducks lingered nearby, waiting for someone to take a seat and toss them some cracked corn.
From the duck pond, they made their way to the park, traveling down the bike lane that hugged Main Street. Jamie’s hair streamed behind her in lustrous gold ribbon as she led the way.
They parked their bikes beneath the shade of a willow tree swaying in the gentle Pacific breeze, and Jamie surprised him with a picnic lunch hidden in the wicker basket hanging from her bike’s handlebars. He could tell at first glance that Rick had nothing to do with the meal. Instead of gourmet fare, they dined on PB&J, apples and kettle chips, which had been the exact lunch Jamie always brought to school in a brown paper sack. It was the best meal he’d tasted in years, even though swallowing proved difficult with such an aching longing in his throat.
Next up was a walk through the tea garden on the banks of the old waterlily pond, as breathlessly beautiful as a Monet painting. Huge orange and white koi fish splashed at their feet, and the water seemed to dance with silvery light. A tour of Waterford wouldn’t have been complete without a stop at True Love, though, which Jamie saved for the grand finale.
The shop had long closed by the time they arrived, but the courtyard was lit with the welcoming glow of hundreds
of twinkling fairy lights. Jamie wound her hair into a slouchy cashmere beanie and grinned at him as she took a seat at the café table closest to the fountain, where flowers floated in the water, swirling with pink and red petals.
Sawyer sat down opposite her and tried to remind himself that they weren’t on a date. She’d been perfectly honest about her intentions, and they were in no way romantic. She was on a mission to remind him what he’d left behind when he’d moved away from Waterford.
Mission accomplished.
A keen sense of loss burrowed deep in his gut—an open wound that somehow felt as fresh as if he’d packed up and walked away yesterday instead of fifteen years ago. He’d missed this place more than he’d realized, but it was more than that. He’d missed her.
He still missed Jamie.
He wouldn’t have thought it possible to miss someone who was right there, close enough to touch, but it was. He missed the warmth of the small of her back against his palm. He missed the smell of her hair, cool and lush, like frosted rose petals. He missed kissing her…of course he did.
But most of all, he missed knowing she was his. She wasn’t anymore, and it was all his fault. He couldn’t blame Eric the councilman for his interest in her, nor could he blame Matt the dentist. He couldn’t even blame the past, because the real barrier standing between them didn’t have anything to do with choices they’d made yesterday. The biggest problem was firmly rooted in the here and now.
He balled his hands into fists under the table and tried not to imagine them tearing down her bookstore, brick by beloved brick. He was so caught in that image that it startled him when Jamie slid something toward him. It was the box—the one from the newspaper article with The Story of Us printed across the front, like the title of a book. Jamie glanced down at it, so he opened the lid and found a bundle of old letters inside.
Sawyer read them, one by one, in the soft light of the courtyard. At first, he kept glancing up at Jamie, because it felt strange reading such private correspondence between two people who were clearly very deeply in love while she watched. There were more than a few parallels between Mary and Harrison and himself and Jamie. Surely she’d noticed.
But the more he read, the more lost he became in their story. And it wasn’t until he reached the end and their fate became clear that he was able to breathe again.
At last, he looked back up.
Jamie took a deep breath and motioned toward the fragile paper in his hand. “They wrote to each other throughout his time away in the war. And then when he got back, they started True Love books. Her father originally owned this building, but Harris loved books so much he got the entire property and the rest is…”
Her voice drifted off, and Sawyer finished for her. “History.”
Jamie nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
He glanced around, and even though he’d known True Love for as long as he’d known Jamie, it felt like he was seeing it—really seeing it—for the very first time. “This is just such a special place. The store, the courtyard, the tree…”
It towered above them, its branches shimmering in the moonlight.
“I’ve always thought so. And then to find these Valentines from old customers—I mean, people who went out, picked out a card and wrote in their appreciation for True Love Books.” She sighed. “It just makes it that much more special.”
Their gazes locked, and a deep calm came over him. For the first time since he’d come home, it finally felt like they were seeing eye to eye. Maybe…just maybe…
Sawyer’s pulse thundered in his ears. Was it crazy that he was thinking about kissing her again? Probably. Yet even though he knew it was a terrible idea, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking about it too. Yes. Yes, she was. He would have bet his life on it. Her cheeks flushed pink, and then her lips parted, and all of Sawyer’s breath stalled in his lungs.
Then Jamie’s cell phone vibrated its way across the table, severing the invisible, delicate thread that had somehow connected them together again.
She flipped the phone over to glance at the screen, and Matt’s name flashed on the display.
“You can take that if you want. I can…” Sawyer held up a hand, surrendering before he’d even begun to fight for her. He had no right. Not when he was actively involved in the destruction of everything she held near and dear.
“Um, no.” She flipped the phone back over. “No.”
Sawyer studied her, but he couldn’t get a read on her expression. She’d closed up again, just like one of the books she loved so much.
“Were you ever tempted?” He nodded toward her phone as it stopped vibrating. “To go to Texas with Matt, start over someplace new?”
“A little,” she said, and her smile turned bittersweet. “But I couldn’t tell if it was because of how I felt for him or if I was just…”
“Lonely?” Sawyer guessed. He knew the feeling well.
“Reliving not going to Columbia with you way back when,” she corrected.
Sawyer sat back in his chair, genuinely surprised. He’d never realized that had been an option. “Do you wish you had?”
She arched a brow. “Do you wish you’d stayed?”
Right this second? Yes. He bit down hard on his tongue to keep himself from saying it.
“Don’t answer that.” Jamie shook her head.
“Really?”
This conversation had begun to feel like the heart-to-heart they should have had fifteen years ago. Maybe it was time to be fully honest with each other and put all their cards on the table.
“I mean, you didn’t stay and I didn’t go, and because of those decisions, we are who we are today,” she said, and in way, it was the most honest truth of all.
But it did nothing to relieve the empty feeling in the pit of Sawyer’s stomach. If anything, he felt worse, because he’d just experienced his best day in recent memory, and throughout it all, Jamie’s words from the beginning of the tour had been swirling in his mind.
Let me remind you of what you left behind.
He gave her his most tender smile. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you turned out pretty well.”
“Yeah?” She brightened, lightening the mood. “Jury’s still out on you.” Then she pulled a face and winked, so he’d know she was only kidding.
But in the end, Sawyer wasn’t so sure.
Chapter Fourteen
Sawyer spent the following day manning his caffeine cart and chatting up local shop owners. With the Fire and Ice Festival just days away, business was brisk. The booths at the town square were really taking shape, and Sawyer’s street corner was right in the center of things. In between handing out flavored lattes and hot chocolate, he helped unload boxes from nearby trucks and nailed signage in place. The hum of activity kept him busy enough to keep his thoughts from straying to Jamie Vaughn.
Mostly.
He kept sneaking glances in the direction of True Love Books, but never caught sight of her. He told himself it was just as well. They both had work to do, and since a large portion of that work involved systematically trying to undermine one another, common sense told him that they shouldn’t be spending any more time together. As lovely as yesterday had been, it hadn’t changed anything. Jamie was still planning on doing everything in her power to save True Love and keep the Waterford Business District exactly as it was, and Sawyer was still trying to persuade the shop keepers and the town council to approve Ridley’s re-design.
Still, every time he caught a glimpse of blond hair or polka dots out of the corner of his eye, he whipped his head around. They were never her, though. They were just Jamie-esque mirages—products of his own wishful thinking.
He really needed to get a handle on himself. Ridley was his client. With any luck, he’d have a permanent job there once the Waterford project was officially approved. Jamie had managed to convince him that True L
ove Books was more special than he’d realized, but he couldn’t do anything about saving it. His hands were tied.
So really, from now on, they’d be better off avoiding each other. Spending time together would only lead to trouble. At least that’s what he told himself until later that evening when the time for Rick’s wine tasting rolled around.
He’d only been joking when he’d told Rick he wasn’t going. Of course Sawyer would be there to try and help his friend out with Lucy. Rick most definitely needed it, so Sawyer was one of the very first guests to arrive.
Rick had set aside about half of the restaurant for the wine event. Cheese platters and fresh flowers covered just about every surface, and red and white cellophane bags of hand-crafted chocolates were waiting by the exit as parting gifts. Decked out in a new suit instead of his chef’s whites, Rick busied himself lining up an extensive offering of wines—from crisp, cold whites to fragrant, full-bodied reds and everything between.
Sawyer watched him and tried his best not to sigh. The poor guy. If Rick would just put half as much effort into actually expressing his feelings to Lucy as he did in trying to manufacture the perfect environment in which to woo her, they’d probably be engaged by now.
At least she’d shown up. That was something. Glass in hand, Lucy perused the wine selection while Sawyer peered past her, hoping she’d come with Jamie. Those two were thick as thieves. But alas, Lucy had arrived all on her own. Good news for Rick, obviously.
Not so much for Sawyer.
You’re trying to avoid Jamie from now on. Remember?
He was. Definitely.
But then he caught another flash of golden hair in his periphery, and this time it was no mirage. It was Jamie—walking into the room wearing soft pink silk and looking more beautiful than Sawyer had ever seen her.
He forgot instantly about all the ridiculous promises he’d made to himself about keeping his distance from her. He couldn’t do any such thing. Nor did he want to.
