“And I thought it would be fun to get a set of beach chairs, and all kinds of game for the guests to use—” Evie glanced over at him with an embarrassed expression. “I hope I’m not boring you with this stuff. You’re probably at your limit just helping me out like this.”
“Are you kidding? It’s fun,” Noah reassured her. “And I know Debra will get a kick out of the story when she gets back.”
“Right, Debra. Remind me how you got roped into babysitting me for her?” Evie asked.
He chuckled. “You haven’t met my godmother,” he said wryly. “She has a way of talking you into anything.”
“I know what that’s like,” Evie agreed. “Jules is just the same.”
“Ah yes, the famous Jules,” Noah replied, smiling as he remembered their encounter. “You know she ran into traffic to flag me down outside the mattress store the other day? Some poor cyclist came inches from death.”
Evie laughed. “That sounds like her. She’s always dragging everyone into her madcap schemes. One time, she insisted we drive eight hours to see this crappy band play. We got lost in the backwoods, miles from anywhere, but she kept insisting it was just around the corner. Glen got so mad, he—” Evie stopped talking suddenly. “Sorry,” she said.
Noah realized that must be his name.
Glen. Her husband.
“What’s there to be sorry about?” Noah asked, glancing over. He didn’t want to bring the mood down if Evie wasn’t ready to share, but he couldn’t deny he was burning with curiosity about the man who’d won her heart. “You can talk about him,” he reassured her. “If you’d like. How did you two meet?”
“At a bar,” Evie answered slowly. “Jules was dating this pompous finance guy and was trying to fix me up with one of his pompous finance friends, so I escaped to the bar to get away from them. Then Glen came over. He said he wasn’t any good at hitting on girls but that I looked like I could use a drink.”
“Sounds like a great line to me,” Noah said, and Evie smiled.
“It wasn’t an act,” she said with a soft laugh. “He was blushing bright red and stumbling over his words, but once we got talking, none of that mattered. He was a scientist,” she added. “Microbiology. I never could get my head around what he was working on, but he loved it.”
“A smart guy,” Noah noted quietly. Was that the kind of man she liked?
“Yes. And sweet, too. He always noticed the little things, you know? He was just … good. A good man.” Evie fell silent, and Noah regretted asking anything. Not just because she wasn’t laughing anymore, but because he felt a peculiar stab of jealousy.
Did she still love this guy?
But he was getting ahead of things, Noah reminded himself. And didn’t everyone have a past? He still had Caitlin’s voicemails on his phone, lurking like an unwelcome ghost. He knew as well as anyone how long it took a broken heart to mend.
“I moved here for a fresh start, too,” he found himself sharing, as rainfall beat against the windshield. “I had a bad break-up back in Nashville. We were engaged.”
“Really?” Evie blinked at him, looking surprised. “I didn’t think … well …”
“That I knew the meaning of the word ‘commitment?’” Noah asked lightly. He couldn’t help feeling insulted, but could he really blame her? Nothing about the way he’d been behaving lately suggested that he was a man who believed in love.
But he had, once upon a time.
When he looked over, he found Evie studying him, looking more thoughtful. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize. What happened? If you don’t mind talking about it.”
He did.
Noah took a breath. “It’s a long story,” he said casually, not wanting to ruin the mood. “I guess we just weren’t meant to be. Some things aren’t built to last—the world gets in the way.”
He knew it sounded trite, but what else could he say? All the best intentions in the world couldn’t keep a relationship together if the other person changed into someone you didn’t even recognize.
Evie nodded slowly. It looked as if she wanted to ask more, and Noah braced himself for a series of painful questions. But instead she just smiled, her tone turning lighter. “So, all this dating around you’ve been doing as the Number One Playboy of Sweetbriar Cove …?”
Noah gave a wry chuckle. “Maybe I’ve gone a little overboard, but I just wanted to put it behind me and move on.”
“I get it,” Evie said. “It’s hard, feeling stuck in one place. So …” She shot him a mischievous look. “How’s all that dating working out for you?”
Noah paused. Right now, with her in the passenger seat beside him, it was working out great. But he didn’t want to come on too strong, so he just gave a casual shrug. “It has its moments … and some of them, I’d prefer to forget,” he added, flashing a smile.
She laughed. “Like your friend in the pub the other night.”
“Exactly,” Noah replied, even though he was pretty sure he owed Marisa a gift basket for how that had worked out.
The expensive kind, with name-brand candy.
“I went on some terrible dates last year,” Evie confided. “I shouldn’t have tried so soon, but I thought it was about time to pick myself up and stop weeping over a tub of ice cream on a Friday night.”
“Been there, done that,” Noah agreed. “Although with me, it was sheet cake.”
Evie snorted with laughter.
“Oh, you can laugh now, but it wasn’t funny,” he continued. “They sold it at a Cuban grocery down my block. Chocolate with this thick, fudgy frosting. Most people bought them for birthday parties—they fed a crowd—but I got through one pan a week just sitting around in my sweatpants. It wasn’t a good look,” he added, only half kidding.
Those months after the split with Caitlin, he’d been a mess. Drinking too much, losing sleep, wallowing over what could have been. Moving back to Sweetbriar Cove had been his last-ditch try to break the depressing cycle—and it had worked. He’d pulled himself together and put the past behind him.
He’d met Evie.
“Look, I think that’s the place,” Evie broke his thoughts, pointing up ahead through the rain. This inn looked more approachable, set back behind some overgrown bushes, with …
“Are those garden gnomes?” Noah asked, peering at the decorative blobs dotted around the front yard. “A battalion of gnomes?”
“Yup,” Evie said, smiling. “Something tells me you should brace yourself for cute.”
She was right: there were clusters of ornamental fruit on the porch, and the cranberry-red door had a knocker in the shape of a bird. This time, Noah decided to switch his cover story and go for a down-to-earth-lovebirds effect, and he explained to the owner that they were looking for a romantic staycation spot.
“We’d just love to take a look around,” he added, playing up a Southern accent. “Your place looks so cute.”
“Well, of course! I’m Marjorie,” the woman added, ushering them inside. “And you’re just in time for afternoon tea. Care to try my famous cranberry scones?”