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Between the Lines had been paid out insurance-wise, but the business was in all three of their names. They were too young to have filled out a proper will beyond the business automatically going to the surviving owners. Not to mention that her head hadn’t been in the business while they’d been hiding out in Maine.
She’d probably lost every contact she’d ever made over the last ten years. The real question was, did she want to earn them back or did
she want to do something else with the storefront?
Did she have the heart for the entire book trade without Adam or Nic?
Would it ever be the same without Nic’s sassy sarcasm and Adam’s indulgent smiles?
She’d told Logan that she wanted to rebuild, but she wasn’t sure that she had the will to try and rebuild all the stock and contacts without Nic’s input or sense of fun. Nic was the one that kept her from drowning in the doldrums of paperwork and keeping the joy of the book hunting alive.
There was nothing but changes ahead of her, and the only thing that had even the promise of permanence was marrying Logan. But she wasn’t the type of woman that could sit home and wait for her man.
She needed something else in her life.
And yes, she wanted children, but would that really be enough to keep her from going crazy when Logan was on tour?
She sunk into the tub up to her neck and hissed out a breath as the water eased tired muscles and the strings of tension that had knotted up her spine. Not to mention the complete lack of sleep the night before and host of soreness from all the reasons behind that.
How could she be so blissful and so very fucked up at the same time?
Because as much as she wanted to face that streaky-haired bitch tonight, she was terrified that something was going to go wrong. She lowered herself until the water teased the top of her lips. The fear was so much easier to believe in.
“Bella?”
She shut her eyes. Maybe if she ignored her she’d go away.
“Isabella Marie, where are you?”
Nope. There was no ignoring Skye Delgado. Not when she was on a fashion mission. “In the tub,” she called out.
Skye walked in. “All that steam,” she tsked. “I’m going to have to redo your hair.”
Bella had given up on any idea of modesty since Ember and Skye had come at her with the pincushion the day before. They were very scary women. Nic had…
She pressed her lips together as her eyes filled. Nic had always warned her that if Skye got her hands on Bella then there would be hope for control. Her best friend had been right. Picking out dresses with Ember and Skye had been odd. The entire day she kept wondering what Nic would do. What kind of dress Nic would pick out.
That could be why her faux wedding dress was a vintage style that reminded her of a mix of her and Nic. That maybe her best friend had been looking over her shoulder when she’d pulled the dress off the rack.
Skye crouched in front of her, folding her arms on the tile shelf. Her thick, dark hair was a feathered and curled mass of perfection. That was Skye—perfection. From the hair on her head, to the lush dresses she wore, and the amazing hats she designed. She’d never seen anyone so put together.
Today, she needed someone as organized as Skye.
Even if she wanted to lock her out of the house and tell her to go away at the same time. They might be planning a fake wedding, but it was still all the things that she should have been doing with Nic.
It seemed disloyal to get ready with anyone other than Nichole.
It didn’t matter that she wasn’t there—that she would never be there. It just felt wrong.
“You seem out of sorts. Are you worried about tonight?”
Bella lifted a shoulder. “A little.”
“Are you having second thoughts about the wedding ruse?”
“It’s the only thing that will push her over the edge. I know that in my gut. I can’t explain how I know, I just do.”
“Oh, honey. I’m Spanish and Mexican. You don’t need to explain feelings to me. You can walk through the door of my grandmother’s house and she’ll pray for you and curse you all in the same breath depending on a feeling.”
