“I came back because of my mom.”
“Ah. Well, maybe you’ll stay for a different reason.”
“I’m not staying.”
Willa clicked several buttons on the computer then asked, “Then how long should I book you in for?”
“Don’t you need my name?”
“It’s Noah, right?”
I opened my mouth and then shut it again. She really did know my family. “Right.”
“That’s what I thought. All I need now is a credit card and the length of your stay.”
I fished out my wallet and handed over my card. “Can we leave it open-ended for now? Or do you need a definite date?”
Willa picked up my card and began typing in the numbers. “We can leave it open.”
“Okay, good.”
“Mhmm.” She went back to filling in the rest of my details, and once she was done, she ran through the times that breakfast and evening coffee were served, along with what was and wasn’t available for guests in the way of rooms in the house.
I listened quietly as she ran through her spiel, and once she was done, she handed me a key and brochure.
“You’re on the second floor in the Shakespeare suite. Would you like some help with your bags?”
“No. No. That’s fine, thanks. I really appreciate this.”
“Of course.”
I turned and headed for the front door to collect my things, and just as I was about to step outside, I heard her call out, “How did you hear about Wilhelmina’s?”
I paused and looked back at her. “Uh, through an old friend. You probably know her. Laurel Anderson?”
“I do. Laurel’s lovely.”
I thought about the way Laurel’s dress had clung to the curves of her body and had to agree. “She is.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Willa’s lips. “Okay, well, everything’s set and I’ll just assume you plan to stay until…whenever you go.”
I had no idea what that smile was about, and I wasn’t about to ask—the last thing I needed was any speculation over when I planned to leave. Instead, I headed out to the car to collect my things, ready for a good night’s sleep.
6
Laurel
“JAKE? JAKE! ARE you home?” I pushed through the front door, kicked off my heels, and tossed my keys on the entryway table.
It had just turned seven, and I was exhausted. It’d been a long day from beginning to end, but as the familiar smell of pepperoni pizza hit my nose, I closed my eyes and inhaled.
Ah, my son was a saint.
“I’m in here,” he called from the kitchen.
As I made my way down the hall, I shrugged out of my coat. “Pizza? You do love me.”
I rounded the corner to see Jake standing over by the fridge with a bottle of Coke in his hand. He’d changed out of his black slacks and shirt, and was now in his favored jeans, t-shirt, and backward baseball cap. At six foot two, my baby boy wasn’t so much a baby anymore, and every time I remembered that, it hit a little harder.
“Yeah, you’re not so bad. You know, as a mom and all.”
I scoffed and draped my coat over the back of the kitchen chair. “High praise coming from you.”
I took a seat, and when he placed the Coke on the table, I poured us both a glass. “Did you catch up with Caleb?”
“Yeah, his dad finally said that he can come and work with me and Ryan for the summer. I thought for sure he’d be stuck at the grocery store.”
I cracked my neck from side to side and then sat back in my chair. “You have to remember, Mr. Wilson relies on Caleb to help him—”
“For free.”
“Well, he is his son, Jake.”
“So? How’s he ever gonna make any money if he’s always doing free labor for his dad? Most parents would pay their son to work at their store, but not Mr. Cheap Ass.”
“Jake. Don’t talk like that.”
“Sorry, but it’s true.”
It was, but I wasn’t about to bad-mouth one of the local business owners. This place was too tight-knit, too in each other’s pockets, and one wrong word or miscommunication and your life—or business—could go down the tubes.
“He said yes, though, right? Now Caleb can earn a little money before he goes away to college at the end of summer. That’s good.”
“I guess.”
“It is. And you know how Ryan gets around this time of the year. Another pair of hands and eyes won’t hurt you.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck, a dead giveaway that he was anxious about something. “Don’t remind me. Bud-break brain really is a thing. I swear, he goes from the coolest boss in the world to the highest strung.”
“It’s a stressful time. One cold night and the whole crop can go to waste. That’s a lot of pressure when you wait all winter for the vines to bloom.”
“I know. It’s just funny. Ryan’s usually so chill, so it’s weird when he acts all tripped up.”
I smirked and reached for my drink. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. But maybe keep that opinion to yourself when he’s waking you up at three a.m. to go and turn all the fans on.”
Jake chuckled as the timer on the oven buzzed. “No lie. I’d like to keep my head on my shoulders, thank you very much.”
He removed the pizza from the oven and cut it into slices, then he put two on a plate and slid it on the table in front of me.
“You’re too good to me.”
“I really am. But also, you worked your ass off today. I wasn’t about to let you come home and cook dinner.”
A saint. He really was a saint. “Well, it’s much appreciated. Pizza is such a better option than what I had in mind if you weren’t here.”
“What’s that?” he asked as he took the seat opposite me.
“Peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
Jake screwed his nose
