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Isla thought about the blue and pink floral couches in the living room and how many holidays she sat on those very couches. The chair with all it’s loud colors wouldn’t match the subtle and possibly dated furniture. If she got the chair, she’d have to replace the couches. The thought caused a lump to form in her throat.
She propped her elbows on the kitchen counter and responded.
Don’t worry about it. I’m not ready to buy furniture yet.
Liv wrote backokay, and Isla could almost feel the disappointment through the text. Ever since Isla told them she was moving in, Olivia wanted to redecorate the place. Luckily, Harper was in the process of setting up her sip and paint studio—where she would teach people how to paint while they drank wine—and getting ready for the grand opening, and had recruited Liv to help, or else she’d be showing up with paint samples and fabric swatches every day.
Isla wasn’t sure if she even wanted to redecorate the place. There was nothing wrong with the furniture that was in the house, and besides, even though she was now the owner of the house, the home would never truly be hers. She couldn’t just go and upend everything Grandma had done in the last fifty years. It seemed… wrong.
The sound of a truck rumbled down the road, and Isla pulled back the curtain to look. A moving truck stopped in front of Nolan’s house, and two men jumped out. Nolan met them in the driveway, shaking their hands. She watched as they opened the back and began to unload box after box, then a dark gray couch. Not exactly something she would choose, but it was masculine and fit the man she used to know.
Seeing Nolan and his couch was another reminder that while he moved on, she was still exactly where she was when he left. If Grandma hadn’t passed, she’d still be living at her parents’ house.
Nolan made a life for himself without her while she wallowed in the regrets of the past. She needed to prove to not only him, but to herself, that she was no longer the same girl who publicly accused him of cheating. No, she was a strong, independent woman who didn’t throw herself pity parties or reenact that awful day over and over as if that would change the outcome.
He turned and looked up at the window. His eyes caught hers, and she quickly yanked the curtain shut.
Baby steps, she reminded herself. Baby steps.
Chapter 5
Nolan hopped in his car and headed down to Main Street. He’d been craving a McConnell burger since he crossed the Throgs Neck Bridge, and after a morning of helping the movers unload the truck, he was starving.
He hadn’t ventured out since he arrived, mainly because he wasn’t ready for the million questions he was sure he’d get from every person he encountered. It was one of the downfalls of small-town life; everybody wanted to know his business, even if he didn’t want them to. He went over a generic response in his head for all the possible inquiries that would be thrown his way and parallel parked in an unexpected open spot on Main Street—an easy task made even easier by his Porsche. Though, if he’d known he’d be out of a job, he wouldn’t have splurged on the purchase.
He put the car in park and jumped out. His gaze traveled down Main Street, taking in the familiar town of his childhood. He never actually imagined leaving this place. He thought he’d bring his future kids to one of the many parades that graced this very street, but after his love life imploded and the opportunity arose to farther his career, he took the much-needed out.
Now that he was back, the thought of having kids one day who didn’t know the taste of a slice of pie from Pie in the Sky or spending hours in the children’s book section of the Book Nook while Jean Kelly steered them toward a book that was sure to become a favorite seemed wrong.
Seattle was a great city, and he loved it there, but it wasn’t Morgan’s Bay and never would be. This damn town held a piece of his heart, and he hadn’t realized how much until now.
Shaking himself out of memory lane, he headed into McConnell’s Pub. Once inside, a sense of belonging slammed into him. The embossed tin ceiling and brick wall that was original to the building and sat behind the polished and fully stocked wood bar was like coming home all over again.
Before he could slide onto one of the high-back stools with black leather seats, he heard his name echo across the pub. He turned his attention to the table filled with many familiar faces.
Jean Kelly, the owner of the Book Nook, jumped up from her seat along with Lilian, the owner of Lilian’s closet. Nolan had spent many hours in that tiny vintage clothing shop with Isla. Maria, owner of Sheer Heaven, gave a wave as he greeted the two older women.
“I didn’t know you were back in town.” Jean pushed her black frame glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her salt and pepper hair was brushed into an off-centered part, and her straw wide-brimmed fedora hung from her chair. “I just spoke with your mother a couple weeks ago, and she didn’t say anything.” Jean kept an eye on the house for his parents since they lived out of state and Mrs. Garrick had gotten sick.
“It was a more recent development.” He hugged the woman who introduced him to Clifford the Big Red Dog and, when he was older, Goosebump books.
“Well, this town is happy you’re home. Now tell me. Have you happened to see a beautiful blonde yet?”
Lilian smacked Jean’s arm, her pink hair swaying with the motion. “Leave the boy alone. That is none of your business.”
“Isla is the one who made it the whole county’s business.”
“Tri-state,” Lilian corrected her. “The entire tri-state. That radio station is heard from here to Connecticut.”
Nolan groaned on the inside but kept his expression neutral. “To answer your question, yes, I have. I moved into the rental, so you don’t have to keep an eye on it for the time being.”
“Then I’m definitely surprised your mother didn’t tell me.”
“She did mention she tried to call you but kept getting your voicemail.”
“Oh darn.” Jean swatted the air. “She was probably calling my cell. I lost the blasted thing for over a week.”
