And that…well, that alone was a reason to come back here.
And do what it took to secure that loan.
Inside the storefront, the light fixtures were in dire need of replacing, but she had put off making a call to a handyman until today, knowing how quickly the word would spread if she’d scheduled him any sooner. Old Gus would tell her dad down at the docks by noon, she was sure. The men in town sat out on their boats as often as the weather permitted, under the guise of baiting whitefish in Lake Huron, even though most of the wives suspected it was an excuse for them to get out of the house—not that anyone was complaining. Since Brooke’s father’s retirement from the family’s orchard and winery, he spent nearly as much time fishing as he did traveling.
Only her parents weren’t traveling now. Nope. They’d been sure to tell her that they didn’t have another trip planned for months. They were all hers.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
She made a note in her planner that Gus would be arriving the next morning. With any luck, he could get the fixtures replaced while she hung the mirrors and set up the dressing rooms, in case she needed a hand with any of those tasks. The shop had once belonged to Patsy, and it was conveniently a former women’s clothing boutique—one that Brooke had worked at not so long ago, even if it felt like another lifetime. When Gabby had mentioned that Patsy was closing up shop, Brooke saw an opportunity that she knew might not come along again for a while. She’d hung up the phone with her sister, paced her shoebox of an apartment in Manhattan, and then, with a shaking hand, dialed Patsy herself and asked about taking over the lease.
Two weeks later, here she was. Standing in the space she had slowly transformed. Making it all her own.
She stood back and marveled at the sight. Some people might think it was ironic that she was a wedding dress designer.
One person in particular, she thought, flicking off the light.
*
At four forty-five, Brooke decided it was safe to venture outside. Still, this was Blue Harbor; the population was small. The one time she’d visited since leaving, she’d been sure to stay at her parents’ house and never leave. And as eager as she was to see her family now, to know that at the end of the street was her cousin Cora’s holiday shop, and just off Main was the café that her cousin Amelia now owned and the new bakery run by her cousin Maddie, she also knew that she could pace herself. She had all weekend to visit them. And next week, too. Next month. Next year. She wasn’t going anywhere this time. She was putting down roots.
And speaking of, some flowers were needed to flank her glossy black paned door. Something seasonal yet elegant, she thought. She made a mental note to talk to Gabby about it tonight as she stood back to study the storefront from a distance. The front bay window was covered by a gauzy white curtain, and her sign was yet to be installed, covering the ghost of Patsy’s, which had left a discoloration mark on the brick in its removal.
The sign was scheduled for delivery tomorrow—she’d triple checked and was tracking it by phone—and she’d already started to dream about her opening week window display. Something springy, yet elegant. Maybe with a garland of fresh blooms framing the glass?
She turned at a tap on her shoulder, expecting to see her sister.
“There you are!” she exclaimed with a smile until she caught the mischievous gleam of a man—and not just of any man. “I mean…you. I…I didn’t mean you.”
Kyle Harrison stared back at her, his expression somewhere between confusion and amusement. Immediately, Brooke stiffened. She knew she’d have to face him. Prepared for it, even. Rehearsed it over and over until she almost lost her courage to leave New York at all. But she hadn’t expected it to happen the very first day she ventured outside. Darn small-town life.
“Brooke.” He looked her up and down, making her pleased that she’d dressed up for tonight’s family party in her best jeans, wedge heels, blousy top, and gold necklace to match her earrings. She’d had her hair trimmed and highlighted before leaving the big city—really, sometimes she thought the person she would miss the most in her old life was Felix in the East Village salon that didn’t look like much from the front, but worked magic on the inside.
Not that she should care what Kyle thought of her appearance. He was a part of her past; only now, she saw that he had changed in the years since she’d been back. His face had thinned out, and fine lines had appeared around his eyes. Always lanky and moderately tall, he’d filled out in the shoulders and chest.
Not that she was noticing.
But one thing was the same. That steady blue gaze. She tried to look away, but the pull was too strong.
“Kyle.” She was an adult. Thirty-one years old, meaning no excuses. No sense in making this awkward, especially now that she was going to be living in town. “This is a surprise.”
He cocked an eyebrow. She’d nearly forgotten how he could do that so expertly, with just one brow. “Surprise? You’re the one back in the town I never left. The surprise is on me.”
She couldn’t tell by his expression what he truly meant by that word, but she
