by Olivia Miles
Maybe she should start walking in that direction. Chances were that Gabby would be pulling up at any minute, or she’d pass her on her walk. There was plenty she could say to Kyle (and plenty that she wanted to say, oh yes), but now wasn’t the time.
She glanced back at Kyle. His brown hair was still wavy, cut a little shorter than it was last time she’d seen him. He was wearing a blue tee-shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. Brought out some nicely defined muscles in those arms, too, she thought, then quickly darted her gaze back up to his face.
So he looked good. Lots of men did. It didn’t mean she got all girly and weird about it. Besides, she had a new shop to run and dresses to make, appointments to book. Now wasn’t the time for a relationship.
Especially not with Kyle of all people. She’d made that mistake once in her life. Had a marriage certificate to prove it, too.
A vehicle honked and Brooke jumped, almost forgetting that she had been out here for a purpose, waiting for her sister, who was now waving through the window, a big smile on her face that slipped only slightly when Kyle turned and waved back.
“That’s my ride,” Brooke said, moving toward the street.
“Guess there’s no sense in saying good-bye, now that you’re here to stay,” Kyle said, accentuating her words. His look was appraising as she reached for the handle to Gabby’s flower delivery van. “But then, I don’t seem to recall you saying good-bye last time I saw you, either.”
Brooke pinched her lips and pulled open the door. Leave it to Kyle to remember that detail and leave out the rest, like the reason she’d left him to begin with. She fought back the words that threatened to spill, her heart speeding up with a fresh wave and frustration that only Kyle could spark in her.
She pushed it back, reminded herself that it was in the past. That there was nothing left to talk to Kyle about—well, except one thing. She’d need to stay on his good side if she wanted that loan to come through, so she forced a tight smile and said, “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”
It was a guarantee, living in a town this small, and one she had known coming back here.
But sliding into the seat and being pulled in for a hug by her sister reminded her that this was why she’d come back, that her family was worth it. And that Kyle meant nothing at all.
2
Kyle pushed through the door of Harrison’s Pub and walked straight to the bar. The anchor-shaped clock on the shiplap wall said it was four minutes past five. Not that he needed an excuse. Brooke Conway was back in town, and the words straight from her mouth were that she was here to stay, and that…Well, that called for more than a beer on tap.
He pulled a shot glass from the shelf under the bar, filled it with whiskey, and knocked it back, letting it burn his throat.
“Whoa there,” he heard someone chuckle. He glowered at his older brother, whose amusement at his misfortune was hardly appreciated. “Bad day?”
Kyle raised an eyebrow but didn’t elaborate. Ryan would hear soon enough. Everyone would. And then everyone would be looking at him, watching him, waiting for a reaction, a story to share over a pint.
He wasn’t going to give them one. So Brooke was back in town. They’d gone their separate ways coming up on six years now. Yes, he could state the exact amount of time, without really needing to stop and calculate it, but why harp on the past?
Even if the past had just become the present.
“We need to discuss your plans for the menu,” Kyle said instead. He rinsed the shot glass and set it upside down on the mat to dry, eager to change the subject, and not just to ward off a deeper investigation from his brother. He needed to focus on something he could make sense of, not let his mind trail to things—and people—that he’d rather forget.
“Finally seeing things my way?” Ryan looked downright boastful. With their four-year age gap, Ryan was still of the impression that he held some authority over his younger brother, even if Kyle had been the one running this pub single-handedly, and doing a fine enough job of it, too.
“I told you,” Kyle said, exasperated. “I like the menu the way it is. And so does everyone else. And you’d know that if you had been around here all these years.”
“Still blaming me for getting a real job, huh?”
Kyle shot him a warning look and Ryan had the sense to look almost regretful. This was an argument they’d had many times. Too many. And they never got anywhere. Even as kids, Ryan was the one who focused on facts and numbers and Kyle was the one who was always sketching, stretching his mind to come up with new ideas. Their differences grew along with them, with Ryan going into business and Kyle…ending up here. From the way things were going tonight, nothing was going to change anytime soon. Not between them.
And not with this bar.
Kyle supposed he should count his victories rather than take issue with the old wounds that had a way of opening up every time that he and Ryan had talked over the years, and even more so now that Ryan was back in town. And hell-bent on sticking his nose in the family business. Judging by the way Ryan slung a rag over his shoulder and stalked to the other side of the long bar, the idea that Kyle could have some hidden personal secret seemed to have been forgotten.
Normally Ryan’s insistence to change up the pub they’d inherited from their father, and his father before that, was a source of frustration to Kyle. Kyle liked things the way they were.
Always had, he thought ruefully.
He pushed his mind away from Brooke.
“You know I didn’t push you to come back and take over,” he said with a heavy sigh. What he didn’t say was that he’d wanted to, just as much as he couldn’t bring himself to do that. His father loved his old place, much more than Kyle ever would or could, but Ryan wouldn’t give it the justice it deserved, and the fact that he already had an established life somewhere else at the time was only a convenient excuse.
“The menu is old and tired, just like this place,” Ryan said.
“It was Dad’s menu, and as I said, the people like it.” Kyle could hear the same old resentment creeping into his tone, and he checked himself.
“If they like it so much, then why does the Carriage House always have a bigger crowd?”
“A different crowd,” Kyle corrected, thinking of the posh and cozy pub in the back of the quaint Main Street inn that attracted locals looking for a social spot and tourists hoping for something authentic yet upscale. “Dad never cared about that scene.”
“Dad isn’t here anymore,” Ryan said, not unkindly. They fell silent for a moment. There was a loud burst of laughter from the guys near the window. The television screen seemed especially loud.
“Well, Dad entrusted the place to me,” Kyle said firmly.
“To us.” Ryan squared him with a look.
“Yeah? Well, nice of you to finally make an appearance.” Kyle hated this, the arguing, almost as much as he hated the fact that his brother wasn’t completely wrong. He’d been running this place for years now, or keeping it going at least. And his brother had bigger hopes for it. Bigger ideas. He didn’t know who was right anymore. He just knew that he’d had enough change for one lifetime.
“I have an objective opinion,” Ryan said firmly. “You need to take a step back and look at what’s going on here. You’re too close to it to see that you’re not doing the business any help by not changing with the times.”
“Why don’t you go back to your office job in Cleveland and leave the pub to me?” Kyle asked.
“Because I missed the view of the water. Because I was bored, and life was passing me by.”
“Because your girlfriend dumped you,” Kyle teased, even though he knew it was the other way around, or at least, mutual.
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Ryan said, and even though it was their usual brotherly banter, Kyle couldn’t help but feel the sting, especially after just seeing Brooke.
Brooke. Back in town. He still couldn’t believe it. Just like he couldn’t be
lieve how good it felt to see her again, to see the light in her eyes, and the lift of her smile. And her voice. He’d nearly forgotten it, or tried to, at least.
He’d thought he was over her. But, then, he’d thought a lot of things. And how had that all turned out?
*
Brooke’s parents were already waiting for her on the front porch when Gabby pulled onto the gravel driveway lined with happy yellow tulips. Her younger sister Jenna shot up from the steps and bolted across the yard, her ponytail made her seem more youthful than her age. Even though she’d come to visit New York a couple of times, Brooke still couldn’t believe how much Jenna had changed. She was a young woman now, well into her twenties. An adult with a music career and an apartment of her own. And oh, how Brooke had missed her. She’d missed all of them; she just hadn’t let herself feel that way until now.
“You’re here, you’re really here!” That was her mother, of course, pulling her into her arms, her scent so familiar that tears prickled the backs of Brooke’s eyes.
“I’m here, Mom,” Brooke promised. “To stay.”
“Oh, let me look at you.” Miriam pushed her away only long enough to give her a good once-over. “Is it a requirement in New York to be so skinny?”
“Maybe in the fashion industry,” Gabby said, jumping to her defense. She gave her a little wink. “Besides, I think you look beautiful. I will be borrowing those jeans, by the way.”
Brooke laughed and gave her father a long hug. Swapping clothes with her sisters was a small perk that she’d nearly forgotten about. Being the middle sister, she usually had the best of both worlds, but now that they were all grown and roughly the same size, it would be even easier.
“When do your things arrive?” her mother asked as she looped her arm through Brooke’s and led her up to the house.
“Monday,” Brooke said.
“Well, let me know if you need any help.”
Help. Another perk of being home. She’d gotten used to doing everything on her own, not depending on anyone, not trusting anyone either.
“Considering what I paid the moving company, I’m hoping they can handle most of it. And there’s not much to unpack. Mostly just a bed and sofa and some linens and clothes. And fabric, of course.” She’d been collecting it for years, never able to resist something that caught her eye, even if she didn’t have a purpose for it in that moment. But now, she did.
“You and your fabric.” Her mother laughed. “Even when you were little, you were always cutting up old clothes, sometimes before I had a chance to pass them down to Jenna!”
They all turned to Jenna, forever good-natured, who shrugged and smiled. “I never minded.”
Now their mother gave her youngest daughter a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. Besides, I got a lot of good stuff. Brooke always had expensive taste.”
Brooke laughed. “And I always took care of my things. Speaking of…” She looked at her parents hopefully. “You don’t by any chance still have my old bike in the garage?”
Her father looked pleased. “Of course we do! Might have a few cobwebs on it, but I’ll go out and dust it off myself. Should fit easily into the back of Gabby’s van.”
Brooke felt her shoulders relax. With Blue Harbor being so small, it was customary for locals to ride their bikes from spring through fall, until the first snow fell. Tourists rented bikes and often took them out on the ferry to Evening Island, where no cars were allowed. She hadn’t needed a car in New York, of course, and she wasn’t in the position to be investing in such a large purchase right now.
“Are the cousins coming?” she asked. She had seven in town in total, all girls. There were the four Conway girls, whose father was Uncle Dennis, her father’s brother, and then there were the three Clark girls, on her mother’s side.
“No, we thought it would be just us tonight,” her mother explained, as they entered the house.
“We wanted you all to ourselves,” Gabby chimed in.
Brooke was glad to hear it. It would help her ease in, even though she’d gotten the worst part of her return over and done with already. The reason she’d dreaded returning. The reason she’d stayed away.
The reason she’d left to begin with.
But all those uncomfortable feelings went away as soon as she stepped foot into the front hall of the old Colonial she had lived in for the better part of her life. Home. She was home. She would know it with her eyes closed, by the smell of the lemon-scented soap her mother used to wash the floors, and the hint of basil from the herbs that she grew on the kitchen windowsill.
She took it all in, even though it was exactly as she’d left it. The same pictures hung on the wall. The same coat rack stood in the corner. The same stairs with the landing and the big picture window where her mother hung a giant wreath each year during the holiday season.
“I’ve forgotten how beautiful this place is,” she breathed.
Her mother chuckled, but her smile was proud. “Please, it’s getting run down. The water heater went out this winter and we’ll need to replace the doors soon.”
“Not the one where you carved our heights?” Brooke asked in alarm, not sure how that suddenly came back to her. Each year, on their birthday, Steve Conway would get out the measuring stick and call them over.
Her father shook his head. “No one will ever touch those doorframes. I wouldn’t even let Gus touch up the trim.”
Brooke smiled. “Well, it smells delicious.”
“All your favorites, of course!” Her mother beamed. “You girls settle in and I’ll finish up. I thought we could eat on the porch tonight? It’s warm, and I have sweaters if the breeze picks up.”
Of course, she had sweaters, because that’s how she was. Nurturing, caring, always there when Brooke had needed her. She could have trusted her mother with any news, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to share everything, maybe because she didn’t want to disappoint her further. She could still never forget the look in her parents’ eyes when she’d told them she had left Kyle.
Her mother had tried to talk her out of it, encouraged her to give it time, but Brooke, for maybe the first time in her life, hadn’t wanted to listen to her mother’s advice, and her mother had known not to press the topic.
Relationships take work, was all she said. But she’d said something else too. Something that had been a blessing of sorts: Follow your heart.
Gabby waited until they had settled in the living room before giving her a coy smile. Brooke had been sure to keep her too busy chatting about all the other news in town on the ride over for her sister to have a chance to bring Kyle up sooner, but Brooke knew that it was coming. Still, she braced herself.
“So…how was it seeing Kyle?”
Jenna’s eyes burst open as she leaned forward. “You already saw Kyle? How’s that for bad luck?”
Brooke darted her eyes to the doorway, but from the clamoring going on in the kitchen, she knew it was safe to assume they couldn’t be overheard.
Just in case, she lowered her voice. “I bumped into him on the street when I came out to wait for Gabby.” She shrugged, trying to keep her tone light. “It was inevitable, wasn’t it?”
“You seem okay with it.” Gabby’s look was guarded, as if she were waiting for Brooke to break into tears at any point, or stir up old arguments that she had once confided in her sisters.
Brooke sighed and let her gaze fall on the collection of framed photos her mother kept on the built-in bookcases. She gave a small smile, looking back at the best moments of her youth. There was one of them all lined up in front of their pumpkins at the orchard, and another of them all sitting under the Christmas tree. There was one of Jenna at the piano that was sitting at the opposite end of the room, and another of Gabby holding a big bouquet of flowers she’d picked from the yard.
Brooke realized with a start that there was one photo missing—it was her engagement photo. The one tha
t used to be kept in an etched silver frame beside the one of her parents…
But, of course, it would be gone. Long gone. Even though her parents had held out hope that she and Kyle would patch things up, as soon as she decided to leave town and pursue her career, they had accepted the fact that it wouldn’t happen. Since then, she never asked about Kyle and they never mentioned him. They all knew well enough that if she wanted an update, she would ask, and she had refrained, even when some days, like on their wedding anniversary each year, she did start to wonder.
She looked back to her sisters, who were watching her expectantly. “There’s nothing to say. Kyle and I haven’t been a part of each other’s lives in a very long time.” She couldn’t resist the opportunity to find out a little information now, though, just so she was prepared. Back in New York, she had the luxury of not knowing the details of his life, but here in Blue Harbor, she would eventually find out. Best to get it over with from the start. Best to know what she was dealing with, too.
She fiddled with the strap at the back of her shoes, hoping to look casual. “He’s still at the pub?”
The pub had been a sore spot, might have even been the root cause of their breakup, some might say, but she knew that it ran deeper than that. Kyle did too. He’d been happy to settle down in the small town they’d lived in all their lives, and she…well, she wanted more, she supposed.
“Yep. And it’s exactly as you remember it,” Jenna said.
In other words, a local joint that catered more to the beer-drinking, sport-watching, middle-aged men in town. The food had never been the appeal, and most patrons went to have a few drinks, share a few laughs, and shoot pool.
It was dark. It was dated. And it was depressing.
And chances were, it was a money pit.
“I’m a little surprised it hasn’t gone out of business yet,” Brooke murmured. With tourism being such a large part of Blue Harbor’s economy, the restaurant scene was competitive and lively, and Harrison’s had never pulled in many out-of-town guests.
“They have their regulars, of course,” Jenna said with a wrinkle of her nose.
