“Jen?”
She forced her focus to the mayor. “Uh, yes, good morning. You have an idea.”
He clapped his hands together, all business. Had he even noticed Mara’s dress? “I have the perfect solution for Belville Park, that’s what I have.”
“I already agreed to host the gala, Mayor—”
He shook his head. “I mean for after. You still plan to sell the estate eventually, correct?”
She did. Didn’t she? She hadn’t given it much thought in the past few days. Thankfully, the mayor didn’t wait for her answer.
“If you still have your heart set on parting ways with the property, I think I have an interested buyer for you.”
“Oh.”
“Sell it to the city!” His voice pitched high with excitement. “I think we could turn it into a little museum. People love touring mansions, after all. Even if it just generated enough money to cover annual taxes and operating expenses, I think it could be a good investment for the town and a way of preserving history.”
She should be ecstatic at the idea. Selling the house to the town would mean she wouldn’t need to go through the work of holding an open house and whatever else went along with putting it on the market.
But she couldn’t seem to rally the enthusiasm Mayor Milt clearly expected.
“This could be a win-win for both of us, Jenessa Belville.”
So why didn’t it feel like that?
Kit’s invitation first thing this morning had probably saved Lucas from making a complete fool of himself.
Because if his sister hadn’t texted at the crack of dawn to ask if he wanted to meet for coffee before they both got started on their workday, he might’ve found himself on Jen’s doorstep instead. Only question was whether he would’ve been able to make it through a confession of the thrilling, terrifying depth of his feelings for her without giving up and opting instead to let another kiss do the speaking for him.
Why hadn’t he just waited for her last night? They could’ve talked about . . . it.
But the moment she’d disappeared around the corner with Violet, the fear had hit—that he’d moved too quickly. That he shouldn’t have moved at all. That he’d just ruined the best friendship he’d ever had.
But she kissed you back.
Oh yes, she had.
He’d replayed it over and over—on the walk back to the cottage, as he’d tried unsuccessfully to sleep, during the drive downtown this morning.
And now, as he stood in line at Coffee Coffee, the smooth and enticing aroma of coffee beans a perfect accompaniment to the sound of rain pattering on the front windows, every memorized moment formed in his mind again.
It’d been better than he could’ve imagined.
“Whoa, dude, I don’t usually get grins like that when I take orders.” The barista by the cash register forced him from the memory. “Also, I have a husband.”
“Wasn’t grinning at you, Meg.”
“Well, you were grinning at something.” Megan handed him a cup to fill with the house blend, his standard order.
“Maybe I’m just really looking forward to my coffee.”
“Or you’re just bananas.”
“Sometimes I don’t understand how you manage to attract repeat customers.”
She rolled her eyes. “That all for you today?”
He had to admit, he liked Coffee Coffee’s snarky barista, who also happened to be the owner of the shop. And clearly most of Maple Valley did too, considering how packed this place usually was. Of course, it probably helped that she’d married a hometown boy—Eric Hampton, who ran a halfway house across town. Kit had continued the tradition his grandparents had of hiring men from the transitional home to help during the busy season.
“Actually, I’ll go ahead and grab—”
“Jen’s French roast? Mara’s latte? Marshall’s espresso? Sam’s the wild card so if you’re ordering for him—”
“Whoa.”
She flashed a smug grin. “And you wonder how I keep customers.”
“Got my sister’s order memorized?” He held out a ten-dollar bill.
She pressed a string of buttons on the cash register. “Americano. Medium. Unless it’s close to Christmas and then sometimes she treats herself to a peppermint mocha. But it’s October so Americano it is.” She handed him his change.
“You are good.”
Minutes later, he was seated at a table edged up to a front window. He sipped his coffee, glancing out at the rainy day. Across the street and down a grassy hill, the Blaine River was a dark blue-gray this morning, reflecting the leaden clouds sagging overhead. So much for making progress on the garden today.
But no matter. Maybe he’d swing by MV Garden & Turf on the edge of town after this, put a rush order in for all the items on the list he’d gone over with Jen last night.
“You beat me.” Kit dropped into the chair across from him, shrugging out of her raincoat. Which, come to think of it, looked familiar.
“Hey, sis. Is that Grandma’s?”
She grinned. “Found it in the coat closet. Can you believe how good of condition it’s in? Looks brand new.”
He could believe it. Grandma and Grandpa had been nothing if not economical. Which meant Grandma would’ve gone to extreme lengths to keep a coat in perfect form for as long as possible. She’d probably gone out in the rain coatless numerous times just to preserve the thing.
He pushed Kit’s cup toward her. “I miss them.” They’d been amazing surrogate parents from the very first day Dad had brought Lucas and Kit to the farm.
“Me too,” she said simply. “I really hope heaven’s the kind of place where you’re allowed to peek back at earth now and then. I’d like them to know we kept the orchard alive.”
“You kept it alive, Kit. Not me.” He took a drink. “Thanks for texting, by the way. We haven’t seen each other much lately.”
“Ever since you ditched the orchard for Jen’s backyard.”
He didn’t hear any resentment behind her words, but he felt a prick of his conscience all the same. “I hope you don’t feel like I abandoned you. But you’ve never really actually needed me at the orchard.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t need you.”
“So you did feel abandoned? Kit, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“No, you don’t need to say you’re sorry. I’m sure Jenessa appreciates your help, and it’s not like it was that surprising anyway. To be honest, I’m kind of used to you leaving.”
Again, there was no hostility in her voice. No bitterness. So why did his coffee turn tasteless in his throat?
Because it’s the truth. He’d left his little sister when he’d enlisted, knowing how hard it was for her already feeling discarded by their father. He’d let his choices and all their consequences separate them for years. Bridgewell took him away from home for months at a time and even when he was home, he spent more time with his friends than her.
“I guess I deserve that.”
“Luke, I didn’t mean . . .” She shook her head.