Always Be Mine: Sweetbriar Cove: Book Nine Read online

  He lowered the phone with a sharp stab of guilt. He wouldn’t be surprised if she never spoke to him again after his performance tonight. He should have told her about Jordy earlier; at least then she’d have known he was only trying to protect her.

  How could he show her how sorry he was?

  13

  Lila woke the next morning feeling surprisingly zen for a woman who’d been literally pushed out the door by her date and left to find her own way home.

  Driving stick shift, no less.

  She rolled out of bed, pulled on her robe, and wandered downstairs to make herself some tea. It was a beautiful day, and the sun was already warming the flagstone kitchen floors. She ran the faucet to fill her teakettle, glancing out the windows at—

  Lila blinked. The overgrown patio area outside the kitchen door had somehow been transformed overnight. The scraggly weeds were gone, the stone pavers were scrubbed sparkling clean, and there was a border of raised beds, filled with tiny flowering bluebells and spring daffodils.

  She stepped outside, amazed. There was a beautiful wrought-iron table and chairs, and planters filled with fragrant rose bushes, filling the air with a beautiful floral scent. The rest of the garden was still a bare, muddy wasteland, but this was the perfect hidden corner, lush and colorful.

  And somehow, Griffin had managed to magic it out of thin air while she was still sleeping?

  Lila noticed a note on the table, and moved closer. It was handwritten on a single page.

  I’m sorry.

  She looked around, unable to stop a smile. She had to admit as apologies went, this was a good one. And it only got better when Griffin himself emerged from around the side of the house—carrying a cup of takeout coffee and a familiar-looking bakery box.

  “Are you trying to buy your way back into my good graces?” Lila asked, trying to sound cool. Griffin looked like he’d barely slept, with two-day stubble on his jaw and his hair a tousled mess. But, of course, it only made him more handsome, evidence that he’d been out here working while she still dozed in bed.

  “That depends . . .” Griffin gave her a rueful smile. “Can your good graces be bought with caffeine and cinnamon buns?”

  “Maybe . . .” Lila said slowly. But who was she kidding? He’d had her at “cinnamon buns.” “When did you even do all of this?” she asked, nodding at the patio. “You must have been up half the night.”

  “Close,” Griffin replied. “Can I tell you again how sorry I am? The way I acted last night, that’s not the kind of guy I am.”

  “No?” Lila asked, arching an eyebrow. She took the bakery box from him and set it on the table, inhaling the tempting scent of sugar and butter. “So usually you pack your dates out the front door and into a cab once you’re done with them, instead?”

  Griffin winced. “I guess I deserved that.”

  “Or maybe you just didn’t want to introduce me to your brother,” she added. “Am I not the kind of woman you want to be seen dating?”

  “No,” Griffin said immediately. “You need to understand, my brother . . . There’s a reason I don’t talk about him,” he said, taking a step closer to Lila. His expression turned reluctant. “The guy is bad news.”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing dangerous,” he added quickly. “Just your run-of-the-mill fuck-up. Jordy always has some big new scheme. I’ve bailed him out so many times, I’ve lost count. I didn’t know he was going to show up like that, and I’ll admit, I panicked. If he’d seen you . . . It would have been a whole lot of drama, believe me. Tabloid journalists have nothing on him.”

  Lila paused, feeling a pang of empathy. The way he’d gone about it wasn’t exactly great, but she could see where Griffin was coming from—if his brother really was as bad as that. Making that drive home hadn’t been fun, but spending an evening with this wayward brother probably would have been worse.

  “OK . . .” she said, and she took a bite of pastry.

  “OK?” Griffin echoed, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  “Maybe.” She chewed, feeling downright cheerful.

  “So . . . do you have plans today?” Griffin arched an eyebrow in a playful smirk, and Lila remembered how it felt beneath the delicious weight of his body, his mouth driving her wild. She wanted a repeat of the other night . . .

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun first.

  “Isn’t there an event in Sweetbriar Cove?” she asked, recalling the flyers posted around town.

  Griffin’s smile turned cautious. “I think it’s the kickoff for one of the festivals. Shrimp-fest, or beer-fest, something like that,” he said. “Why?”

  “Sounds like fun to me.” Lila smiled at him. “Maybe I’ll see you there?”

  Griffin gave a chuckle, like he knew her game. “I guess so. Enjoy the garden,” he added. “Now, I’m going to go take a nap. Rest up for all those town festivities,” he added with a grin.

  “See you later!” Lila smiled, watching as he headed back out front. She took a seat on the chair, and bit into another delicious cinnamon bun. The fragrance from the freshly-plated roses drifted around her in a gorgeous breeze, and she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be.

  The man knew how to apologize, she’d give him that.

  * * *

  After enjoying a peaceful morning in the garden, Lila cycled into town. It was already decorated for the festival, Sweetbriar Cove Spring Fling emblazoned on colorful banners and ticker tape fluttering from every lamppost. Launch party, 6pm. Town Hall.

  “So, what exactly are you all flinging?” she asked, finding Mac fixing more streamers to the front of her gallery.

  “Lila!” Mac hopped down from the stepladder. “What do you think? Too over the top?”

  “I didn’t think you could be ‘too much’ in this town,” Lila smiled, noticing a cascade of paper flowers spilling out of the gazebo just across the street. The place looked like a mix between a grade-school craft project and a fever dream: colorful, wild, and utterly charming.

  “Good point.” Mac laughed. “And as for what we’re celebrating . . . Well, we had a free month between Lobster-fest and May Day, so here we are.”

  Lila grinned. “I’d say you’re kidding, but I overheard some people talking at the bakery about how they were going to fill August with a celebration of shellfish, so . . .”

  “Never underestimate Sweetbriar’s ability to throw a shindig,” Mac agreed. “I’m not complaining, the more tourists who come through, the more my cash registers ring. There.” Mac fixed the last streamer in place and stepped back, and for the first time, Lila looked past the wild decorations and noticed the pottery on display in the window.

  “Are these your designs?” she asked, looking closer at the bright glazes and cheery nautical designs. “I’ve seen them at the bakery. They’re beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” Mac smiled, pushing back her wild, curly hair. “Although, I should tell you, the sailor stuff is mainly for the tourists. You should see my new collection,” she brightened. “How do you feel about spiders?”

  “Ummm, what?” Lila asked, but Mac was already disappearing into the gallery. Lila followed, bracing herself, but when Mac presented the bowls and dinner plates, she laughed. There were spiders painted dancing around the rims, but the friendliest ones she’d ever seen, cavorting with illustrated cockroaches and mice.

  “You have a strange sense of humor,” she said, smiling. “I love it. Do people actually buy these things?”

  “Oh yes,” Mac grinned. “Turns out there’s a lot of people with a twisted eye for ceramics. You should have seen the killer snake collection, I couldn’t get them fired in the kiln fast enough.”

  Lila looked around. Now that she was here, the candy-colored glazes looked irresistible . . . “Do you have anything more sturdy?” she asked. “I’d love some dishes to use for eating outside.”

  “I can make whatever you need,”
Mac said immediately.

  “In maybe a dark, cobalt blue . . . ?” Lila suggested, thinking of the planters. “And lemon yellow. And maybe a set in green, too.”

  “Hold on,” Mac laughed, “let me find you some samples. Why don’t you take a look around and pick out the shapes you’ll want?”

  Mac disappeared into the back, leaving Lila to browse the small shop—and fall in love with every dish and bowl she saw. Never mind Rodeo Drive, she could do some damage to her credit cards right here . . .

  The bell dinged, and she looked up to find Poppy entering, with a baby strapped to her chest. “Lila!” Poppy greeted her with a smile. “How have you been?”

  “Good,” Lila replied. She put her armful of potential purchases down on the counter, feeling self-conscious about her spree. “Wondering why I didn’t find this place sooner,” she added, and Poppy laughed.

  “Mac is the best. She’s got holiday gifting locked down for everyone.”

  “Gifts!” Lila lit up. “I didn’t even think about that.”

  The baby gurgled, and Lila found herself drawing closer. “This must be Emma?” she asked, reaching out to touch her tiny fist before she could stop herself. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “No, help yourself. In fact, want to take her for a moment?” Poppy asked, already lifting her out of the baby sling. “My back could use a break.”

  “Really?” Lila asked, inhaling in a rush.

  “Please.” Poppy deposited her in Lila’s arms, and then stretched. “You wouldn’t think someone so small could weigh so much, but it’s seriously like carting a ten-pound sack of sugar around.”

  Lila held the baby carefully, shifting Emma’s warm weight against her chest. She gurgled happily, grabbing hold of a piece of Lila’s hair in her chubby little fists as she flashed an irresistible smile.

  Lila was hit by a pang of longing so sharp, she could almost taste it.

  She’d thought she’d escaped the feeling, and sure, this year she’d managed to distract herself enough that it had almost faded into the background, but here it was again, reminding her with a full-body ache just how much she wanted this.

  “Cute, huh?” Poppy must have seen her awestruck expression. Lila nodded, swallowing back the rush of emotion.

  She’d always thought it was such a cliché, when other friends and co-stars had talked about their biological clock suddenly switching to on, but that was before she knew what it was like to have that craving in her own bloodstream. Then, a couple of years ago, everything had changed. Suddenly, she found she couldn’t leave the house back in LA without seeing babies everywhere. Photos of her cousin’s newborn twins on social media made Lila burn with envy, and sitting next to a mommy-baby group in a café, she couldn’t drag her eyes away.

  Emma let out another burp, and Lila instinctively patted her back. “See, you’re a natural,” Poppy said as Mac returned.

  “If that’s a hint for her to babysit, you’ll have to try harder,” Mac grinned. “Last time I took a shift, Emma didn’t stop bawling. Seriously, the girl didn’t even pause for breath. I would have been impressed if I wasn’t losing the will to live.”

  Poppy laughed. “Welcome to my world! It’s not all cute knit onesies and blowing bubbles.”

  “But it’s worth it, right?” Lila asked, still holding Emma tight.

  “A million times, yes.” Poppy smiled. “So, how did you enjoy dinner last night?”

  Lila blinked, but maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised. Word of her date with Griffin had obviously travelled fast. “Dinner was delicious,” she answered slowly. “Declan’s a great chef.”

  Poppy smirked. “And the company?”

  Mac looked back and forth between them. “Well, this sounds way more interesting than glaze tones,” she said, putting down her samples. “Who? When? And why haven’t I heard about it? I saw Aunt June this morning, and she swore there was no fresh gossip.”

  “Good!” Lila exclaimed. “The last thing I want is to be a town laughingstock.”

  “You mean, most envied!” Poppy corrected her. “Griffin is pretty much the hottest single guy around. I was trying to recruit for the bachelor auction tonight, and came up with nothing.”

  “Griffin?” Mac perked up. “She’s right, he’s hot. Lucky you.”

  Lila blushed harder. “There’s nothing to be lucky about. Our date was . . . interrupted last night. Everything’s really new,” she added. “And casual. New, and casual, and private.”

  “OK, we’ll stop tormenting you then,” Mac said, grinning. “But way to go.” She winked.

  Lila paused. “Wait, what was that you said about a bachelor auction?” she asked Poppy, already getting a deliciously evil idea.

  “It’s part of the kickoff party tonight,” she replied, lifting Emma back into her arms. Lila watched her go with a pang. “We all get to bid on the guys to spend the evening with, for dinner, or heavy lifting, or whatever you like. I had to strong-arm Cooper into volunteering—”

  “Jake too,” Mac added. “Under strict promises that I won’t let Aunt June win him for the night.”

  Lila paused. “Well, if you need anyone else, Griffin will be happy to do it.”

  They both stared. “We are talking about the same Griffin?” Poppy asked with a smirk. “Tall, handsome, allergic to town events?”

  “That’s the one.” Lila smiled. “He owes me a favor, so . . .”

  Mac snorted with laughter. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I like your style.”

  “Griffin Forrester, bachelor number ten.” Poppy laughed. “What do you think he’ll have to say about it?”

  Lila grinned. “I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

  * * *

  Lila stayed a while at the gallery, chatting to Mac and selecting the perfect colors for her new outdoor servingware. She wasn’t quite sure why she was ordering enough pottery for twenty, but ever since laying eyes on that new garden area this morning, Lila had been having visions of late-summer dinner parties, the scent of lavender and laughter wafting through the air as she set out heaped dishes of pasta and poured leisurely glasses of wine.

  After spending the past few months in seclusion, she was craving company and friendship now. Her so-called friends in LA had dropped out of contact, but to be honest, Lila didn’t blame them. She’d made the choice to disappear, while their lives whirled on as usual: the same routine of VIP parties and exclusive yoga retreats and shopping in Beverly Hills. Without their old interests in common, it was hard to think of what they’d talk about, if any of them even called. Lila smiled, imagining catching Sukie or Lara up on her busy day spent stripping paint off the antique coffee table she’d found at the local thrift store, followed up by an afternoon reading old recipe books and making a chicken pot pie from scratch.

  No, Lila didn’t miss the life she’d left behind, but she was finally ready to fill the empty spaces with some real bonds. A sense of belonging. Community. She’d hidden away too long, and if she was just brave enough to venture out, she might find those friendships waiting for her right here in Sweetbriar Cove.

  Plus some other attractions, too . . .

  She was walking back across the town square when she saw a familiar face by the coffee stand that made her double-take. It was a director she’d worked with, years ago, but he was the last person she’d expected to see in the middle of Sweetbriar Cove. “Dash?” she called, moving closer. Instinctively, she smoothed down her hair and fixed on a bright smile, even before she realized what she was doing.

  He turned, looking about as surprised as she felt. “Lila!”

  She greeted him with a hug and did the Hollywood air-kiss routine. Dash was one of the good ones, a talented director—and a genuinely nice guy. They even realized what they were doing.

  “What are you doing out here? Scouting for a new location?” she asked.

  “No, I’m here for play, not work,” he replied. “My fiancée, Ellie, grew up here.”

  “That�
��s right.” Lila remembered the gossip from book club. “Congratulations. And for the job. I heard you’re doing the next big superhero movie, right?”

  Dash looked bashful. “Maybe. They’ve offered, but I don’t know . . . A project like that, it’s all special effects and green-screen. A part of me just wants to do something small again. Real characters, real emotion . . .”

  “Well, either way, I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” Lila said honestly. Working with Dash had been one of the high points of her career. It had only been a smaller romance movie, but it was one of the performances she was most proud of.

  “What about you?” Dash asked, accepting his coffee from the vendor. “What’s next? I’ve wondered where you’ve been hiding.”

  Lila gave a breezy shrug. “I’m . . . taking some time off,” she said vaguely. She didn’t know if Dash had followed the gossip and didn’t want to dredge up the past.

  “Resetting, I get it.” Dash nodded. “Well, let me know when you’re back in the game. It would be great to work together again.”

  Lila nodded, just as Dash saw somebody behind her and waved. “It was great to see you,” Dash said. “I have to go meet Ellie, but call me if you’re in town for long. We should catch up.”

  “Great,” Lila said as he bounded over to an idling car and climbed in the passenger side. He waved at her through the window as they drove away, and it was such a blast from her past, that Lila almost felt as if she’d imagined the whole thing.

  Hollywood seemed like it was on a different planet, not just a plane ride away, waiting for her return. But did she even want to go back there? Lila had been avoiding that particular question for months now . . . and she could keep avoiding it a while longer, she decided. They could live without her for now—despite what her publicist and agent claimed. She had plenty of other things to occupy her . . .

  Like a hot date tonight at the town bachelor auction.

  14