The Story of Us: Sweetbriar Cove: Book 11 Page 2

  She grabbed her coat and a Tupperware box of her favorite truffles and headed out. It was a brisk, dark November evening, and the streetlights were bright, lighting her way across the town square. She pulled her scarf up around her ears, enjoying the crisp taste of autumn in the air and the decorations already adorning every lamppost and tree in town. This place clearly liked their celebrations, which was good news for her. More events equaled more tourists, and hopefully more business for the shop. She was already planning her Thanksgiving gift boxes and the seasonal treats she could whip up this time of year. Pumpkin flavors, rich nutmeg, and of course, her grandmother’s famous Mexican hot chocolate: rich with cinnamon and a touch of spice . . .

  By the time Natalie arrived, the town hall was already packed, and sure enough, they’d taken the potluck to heart. People were setting up folding chairs and blankets, passing around bags of snacks and dishes from home.

  “You made it!” Alice waved her over to where she was sitting with her boyfriend, Jackson, and a group of people. “Everyone, this is Natalie. She’s the one with the new chocolate shop I’ve been raving about, Coco.”

  “Wait, what?” A woman with blonde hair whipped her head around, eyes wide with excitement. “There’s a place selling candy in town and I don’t know about it? How is that possible?”

  “Because you’ve been so busy with your new cookbook, you’ve barely come up for air.” Another of the group smiled at Natalie. This woman had curly red hair and a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m Mackenzie,” she said, introducing herself. “And that’s Summer, our resident baker. At least she was, but maybe there’s competition now . . .”

  “Oh, no,” Natalie said hurriedly. “I only make chocolate. Give me flour and baking powder, and I’ll give you a cake like a hockey puck.”

  “Hey, if it’s a solid chocolate puck, then sign me up.” Summer grinned back at her. “Welcome to town. Here, grab a chair—”

  “And some of this popcorn,” Alice added, taking a handful. “It’s addictive, I can’t stop.”

  “Thanks.” Natalie smiled and cautiously took a seat—±and a taste of the sweet, salty snack. “Mmm, there’s some fennel, right?”

  “Yes!” Summer exclaimed. She took one of the truffles Natalie offered in exchange, and bit into it. “And these have . . . lavender, right?”

  “Oh my God,” Mackenzie laughed, looking between them. “Food geeks! You two are a match made in culinary heaven.”

  “If you’d prefer, I can stop bringing things . . .” Summer teased, but Mac cut her off with a yelp.

  “No! I take it back! Geek away.”

  Summer grinned and gave Natalie a conspiratorial look. “Watch out,” she said, “once people know how delicious these treats are, they’ll be volunteering you to bring them to every event for the next ten years. I can’t even leave my house without bringing a batch of sticky buns.”

  “Thanks for the warning, but maybe it’s all part of my plan,” Natalie replied, smiling. “Give you all a taste to get you hooked so you have to come check out the store.”

  “Ooh, devious, I like it!”

  More people arrived, and soon Natalie was swept up in a chorus of friendly introductions. Her head spun as she tried to keep everyone straight: there was Poppy, the romance author, and Eliza, who ran the local newspaper, and Riley and Brooke, who’d just eloped on a beach in Mexico.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t have a proper celebration!” Mac complained, greeting them. “You’re the queen of wedding planning.”

  “Exactly,” Brooke replied, beaming. “I could tell I would get swept up, obsessing over every detail, and I didn’t want this to feel like work!”

  Natalie was content to sit back and let everyone gossip and catch up around her. To her relief, the fact she made chocolate was the only thing people were interested in, and all of them vowed to come visit the store as soon as possible. “How do you resist just sitting around and eating all day?” Mackenzie asked. “It sounds like heaven to me.”

  Natalie smiled. “Believe it or not, you get immune after a while. Don’t get me wrong,” she added, “I had the biggest sweet tooth growing up. But now with the store, I find myself craving savory things more. I’d take a cheeseburger over a slice of cake any day!”

  “Immune to chocolate?” Mackenzie replied, blinking. “That’s . . . impossible.”

  Natalie laughed and looked around. The audience was slowly hushing now, and the big projection screen was unrolling at the front of the hall: the movie was about to begin. She bobbed to her feet. “I’m just going to get a soda. Anyone want anything?”

  There was a chorus of “no thanks,” so she ducked through the crowd to the table of refreshments, set up with a donation jar. Natalie paused, digging in her pockets. She knew she had some change somewhere . . .

  “I’ve got it,” a male voice said, stuffing a crumpled dollar bill in the jar.

  Natalie turned. “Thanks,” she said—and then found herself staring up at a handsome stranger, his shoulders broad in a soft plaid shirt.

  Natalie’s breath caught. He had sandy hair, an easy smile and deep brown eyes—

  No, not brown. Milk chocolate, with flecks of caramel . . .

  “Hey,” he said, seeming to recognize her. “It’s you.”

  Natalie blinked. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Maybe he’d dropped by the shop . . . ?

  “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I’ve been meeting so many new people, I can’t keep track.”

  “Oh.” She could have sworn she saw something like disappointment flicker on his handsome face, but then the man smiled again. “We never got around to introductions. I’m Luke.”

  “Natalie.” She reached to shake his outstretched hand. His palm was warm against hers, and Natalie felt an unexpected surge of heat roll through her body, radiating from his touch.

  She dropped his hand and backed away, feeling flustered. “The movie’s starting,” she blurted—and bumped straight into the buffet table. She grabbed a punch bowl to keep it from spilling, and nearly knocked over a soda bottle instead.

  Real smooth.

  “I, umm, should go . . .” Natalie said, hoping he couldn’t see her blush. “Enjoy the movie!”

  She escaped back to her seat before she could embarrass herself any more, but still, she couldn’t resist glancing around to find him in the crowd.

  “All good?” Alice asked, offering more popcorn.

  “Fine . . .” Natalie nodded, still searching for Luke, but there was no sign of him, and soon, the lights began to dim and the title credits began to roll on screen.

  She exhaled in relief—but at what, she wasn’t sure. The movie played out in front of her, but Natalie barely registered it. She could still feel the warmth of Luke’s brief touch glowing through her body, still see the smile sparkling in his eyes.

  What was that?

  She flushed, glad her reaction was hidden in the dark. It had been so long since she’d responded this way to a man that she’d figured that part of her was asleep, hibernating for her own protection, to keep her safe until she could make it on her own.

  But now, Natalie remembered the way Luke’s smile had lingered, and she felt that telltale kick in her bloodstream; the shiver of anticipation she remembered from years ago.

  Maybe she was finally waking up.

  2

  Luke Kinsella dreamed of his mystery woman again, like he had done for months since they’d met. The scene replayed over, so familiar now he wasn’t sure where memory ended and the dream began. It was dusk in the town square, and he followed her, calling. She turned, looking surprised—like she did every time. “Yes?”

  “You dropped something.”

  She looked like she’d stepped out of a different time, dressed for a costume party in a gold 1920s beaded flapper dress, with her dark hair pinned back at the nape of her neck. Up close, her eyes were thickly lashed, soulful in the dusk light. There was a wary expression on her face
as she looked him over, until Luke opened his hand, and she relaxed.

  “My earring!” she gasped, and her hand went up to touch her naked lobe. “Thank you, I didn’t even notice it was gone.”

  “No problem,” Luke replied, handing it over.

  The woman slowly smiled back, and even in the dream, Luke felt his world tilt off balance, switching onto a different track before he even knew what was happening.

  “Costume party?” he asked, and the woman smiled.

  “No, I just figured I’d stop by the speakeasy on my way home.”

  “Say hello to Gatsby for me,” Luke joked.

  “You know, I never understood that book,” she said, her voice turning thoughtful. “He had a chance to start over, remake himself from scratch, but he couldn’t ever leave the past behind.”

  “Maybe that was the point,” Luke replied, like an echo. “It’s hard, letting go of the things you thought you wanted. Time passes, and before you know it, everything’s all tangled up.”

  The woman nodded slowly. “But when you do let go . . .” Her smile returned, the one that knocked Luke out, full of sparkling possibilities. “Everything gets a little easier. No, not easier,” she corrected herself. “Simple.”

  Simple.

  The word echoed through him, settling deep in his bones like a balm, but Luke knew somehow that he was running out of time.

  Sure enough, the woman gave a bashful smile. “What am I saying? I’ve already kept you. Thank you for returning this,” she added, fixing the earring back in place. “It’s my favorite.”

  He wanted to tell her to wait, ask her to stay, but like always, Luke could only stand there as the woman leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her lips soft against his skin. And then she was gone, a flash of pale gold against the sinking sun, and Luke was left standing there alone, trying to figure out the scent that lingered where her touch had been.

  Chocolate, he remembered, through his dream. She smelled like chocolate and—

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  The blare of his alarm woke him with a start. For a moment, Luke forgot where he was and rolled over—slamming straight into the wall.

  “Owww!”

  That was enough to remind him. He sat up and looked around at the room full of boxes: half his worldly possessions, piled high around the small studio apartment at the back of his grandfather’s house.

  Oh. Right.

  Luke sank back into the pillows with a groan. This was what he got for upending his life: breaking off a five-year relationship, and crashing out of his business, too. He knew his family was freaking out; he’d been fielding worried phone calls ever since he packed up his truck and headed for Sweetbriar Cove, and the only thing he could tell them was that he was doing the right thing.

  Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  She didn’t remember him.

  Luke couldn’t believe it. He’d thought he was imagining things when he’d seen her at the town event last night, but no, it really was her: his mysterious dark-haired woman, finally in the flesh.

  Natalie.

  He finally knew her name after wondering all this time. But clearly, she hadn’t wondered about him at all. Luke winced, remembering it now. He’d waited for the flash of recognition on her face, for them to laugh over their last meeting and pick up talking right where they’d left off, but instead . . . ?

  Nothing.

  Nothing save for a blank look and her bolting just as soon as she had the chance, that is. Luke hadn’t wanted to stick around after that; he’d walked the long route back to Grandpa Earl’s alone, wondering how he could have misread things so badly. Sure, they’d only shared a brief conversation on a twilight street, but in those few moments, she’d given him the answer he hadn’t known he’d been searching for. A sign. That there was more to life than the same old routine.

  More to love than simply settling for a relationship he knew in his heart wasn’t right.

  It hadn’t been pretty, untangling his life with Jess: splitting their home and friends and business, too, but now that it was over, he knew without a doubt he’d done the right thing.

  Thanks to Natalie.

  He’d never believed in fate or destiny, but after that night, he couldn’t help feeling like they’d met for a reason. Their story was only just getting started . . .

  But clearly, she didn’t think the same way.

  Or even think of him at all.

  * * *

  Luke wasn’t a guy to wallow, so he hauled himself out of bed, jumped in the shower, and headed out to see his younger brother.

  “Jeez, you look terrible,” Jackson greeted him cheerfully. “Let me guess, you realized you made a terrible mistake and were up all night begging Jess to give you another chance?”

  “Nope.” Luke stepped inside the cute cottage Jackson had just moved into with his girlfriend, Alice. He took in the furniture and framed photos on the wall and gave a whistle. “Look at you, putting down roots. Or does this stuff fold flat for storage at the flip of a switch?”

  “No flipping or folding,” Jackson replied with a smile. “I’m rooted.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day,” Luke teased. His brother was a photographer, and had spent the past decade roaming all over the world. “Well, it’s good to have you back. Just get ready for Mom to come visit and scope out Alice.”

  “Oh, believe me, she’s scoping.” Jacksons smile turned serious. “She’s already threatening to move the family Thanksgiving celebrations here. And volunteered me to host.”

  “You think everyone will fit?” Luke’s eyebrows shot up. As well as the two of them, there were three more Kinsella siblings, plus aunts, cousins, assorted strays . . .

  “Nope. Which is why we’re all sending Mom and Dad on a cruise for their fortieth anniversary,” Jackson replied, looking smug. “That should keep them away for a while.”

  Luke was impressed at his brother’s devious plan. “Sure, why not? Each according to their means?”

  “You mean, Aidan pays for it all?”

  “Exactly.” They both laughed. The oldest Kinsella sibling was a high-flying finance guy, with a job so complex—and boring—Luke couldn’t keep it straight.

  They headed into Sweetbriar Cove in search of coffee, strolling through the main square of stores and cafes. In summer, the place had been packed solid with tourists, but now, there was a lull, the streets quiet in the cool morning sun. “What about you?” Jackson asked. “How’s business these days? I heard Jess kept half your clients in the divorce.”

  “It wasn’t a divorce,” Luke said immediately, feeling a familiar twinge of guilt. “The whole point of breaking up now was to avoid that kind of fallout down the line.”

  Because that was where they had been headed, no doubt about it. Jess wanted a wedding and kids and a house in the suburbs soon enough. But Luke knew he couldn’t make a commitment like that unless his whole heart was in it.

  So he had to let her go, before things really got messy.

  But Jackson clearly wasn’t convinced he’d avoided much mess. “What’s the difference, she kept your record collection, didn’t she? And custody of your favorite bars.”

  “Records can be replaced,” Luke replied, trying to be positive. “I’ll find new clients. And she can keep the whole neighborhood. I’m a long way from Philly now.”

  “Well, aren’t you generous?” his brother teased.

  Luke chuckled, rueful. “Guilty, more like. It’s the least I can do after screwing everything up for her.”

  “She’s tough, she’ll bounce back.” Jackson didn’t seem so concerned. “Trust me, she’ll be married to some other guy, happily having babies, while you’re still squatting in Grandpa’s backyard.”

  “Thanks, bro.” Luke shoved him playfully. “Great to know you have faith in me.”

  “Always. So much faith, I’m going to let you build us a new dining table,” Jackson said, smirking. “Give y
ou a job to do, something to distract yourself from your heartache and despair.”

  “Ha!” Luke laughed. “Get to the back of the line. You know I have a waiting list a mile long, and paying clients come first.”

  “Sure, but I’m family,” Jackson replied. “Think you can have it done by the holidays? I want to surprise her.”

  “I’ll see,” Luke agreed. “But only for Alice. Because knowing you, you’ll forget about finding another gift until the last minute.”

  “Hey!” Jackson protested good-naturedly. “Since when do I forget an occasion?”

  “Since Aidan’s big promotion, Cassie’s birthday, that Easter we all were supposed to surprise Dad . . .” Luke counted them off on his fingers, grinning. “Aunt Suze’s last—”

  He stopped, the words fading on his lips as he suddenly caught sight of a flash of dark hair. A woman was in the window of a shop across the street, climbing up on a stool to fix the display. Her back was turned, reaching to string ornaments from a wire, but Luke still felt a shock of recognition, watching her.

  He would know her anywhere.

  Natalie.

  “. . . Hello? Earth to Luke?” Jackson elbowed him, hard.

  “Sure, whatever you need,” he murmured, still distracted. Natalie was wearing a loose knit dress that hung from her body in soft folds, the burnt orange shade making her hair shine darker in the morning sun . . .

  “Ah,” Jackson’s voice came again, sounding more interested. “Time for the rebound.”

  “What?” Luke dragged his attention back to his brother.

  “Hey, I’m not judging.” Jackson smirked. “You probably need all the practice you can get. When was the last time you tried to flirt with a woman? Back when baggy pants were in style?”

  “I think you’re confused. You were the one always striking out,” Luke shot back, but his eyes drifted back to Natalie, now teetering perilously in the window. “Didn’t Amy Westerberg pick me to go to the movies with in junior high?”

  “Only because I decided to bow out and give your self-esteem a boost,” Jackson replied jokingly. “Go on, then,” he added, gesturing towards the shop. “Knock yourself out.”