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As he takes hold of my hips, guiding the motion of me, I brace my palms against his chest and gaze down into his eyes, deciding that this view is far better than whatever is outside the porch. After all, I’m hoping that he is where my true happiness and second chance lies, and I’m not going to lose sight of that for a second.
* * *
“I’msurprised you’ve got the strength to walk on into this shop!” Ms. T’s voice halts me on the threshold of the Climbing Rose, as the last jingle of the bells fades, bringing back so many memories of my once-cherished sanctuary. “I’d ask where you been hidin’ these past few days, but it’s written on the pair of your faces. Oh, mercy, to be young and firin’ on all cylinders. Mr. T does what he can, these days, but it ain’t like it was when we were young ‘uns.”
My jaw drops and my cheeks flame. “Ms. T, whatever happened to a friendly ‘hello?’ You just can’t go straight into interrogation mode.”
“Don’t need to, when you’ve admitted everythin’ yourselves with those shy ol’ smiles.” Ms. T breezes out from behind the counter and bundles Rowan and me into a bosom-heavy embrace.
With her arms around us, in this place, I can’t stay mad at her for long. Not much has changed since I left, but there’s a new beanbag corner for kids and a couple of tables outside for coffee and cake. Sometimes, tourists mistake it for a place to just rest for a while or eat the lunch they’ve bought somewhere else, but once Ms. T sits down to set them right, they end up buying way more from her store than they bargained for.
“Actually, I didn’t take your advice,” Rowan says, as Ms. T releases us from her bear hug and wanders back to the counter to drum up some coffee. It’s not the premium stuff that Georgie would’ve made at the Brass Whistle, but with the history I have with this place, it’s almost as good.
You’re going to have to go back, you know?my brain reminds me, but I’m not ready to think about that yet. Actually, I’ve been thinking about staying put for another week or two, to get everything in order with Mae and the cottage, but I haven’t mentioned it to anyone. The girls at the gallery are more than capable of running things without me for a while, and as long as I’m back to set up the Anthony Frost show, no one will even miss me. It’s probably for the best that I’m not there anyway, considering my and Anthony’s “mutual friend.” If I could cancel the show, I would, just to spite Levi, who obviously sent Anthony my way to frighten me.
“No offense, sweetheart, but it sure looks like you did,” Ms. T replies, pouring out three mugs.
Rowan takes a seat at one of the stools by the counter, and I join him. “I went to the cottage later than planned. Yesterday evening, to be exact.”
“But youdidgo.” Ms. T flashes a wink and pushes the coffee toward us. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. Lord, am I glad! I thought my sweet Summer was going to waste away for want of a good lovin’, but the heavens do deliver, and it seems they dropped a fine package at your door, hon.”
I cover my face. “Ms. T, I’m begging you.”
“Can’t a friend be over the moon?” Ms. T waves a dismissive hand. “I’m just happy as all heck for the two of you, that’s all. I knew I wasn’t wrong about you when I saw you at the party. Fireworks like the Fourth of July, I’m tellin’ you! Wish someone could’ve put a barrel of gunpowder under that son of a mudbug, Levi, but he seems to have burrowed himself back underground, so small mercies, huh?”
I let my hands fall. “No sign of him at all?”
“I heard just this mornin’ that his pa whooped his ass and sent him packing to one of the Carolinas to learn some manners and start making something of himself with the family business,” Ms. T explains at a breakneck pace. “Suppose he don’t want his boy embarrassin’ him any more than he already has, and you can bet your pert behind that Cybil put the pincers on him to get Levi out of town.”
Cradling my mug of coffee, I can’t help but smile. There’s been a lot of good happening in the last twenty-four hours, and I’m not going to risk jinxing it, but it feels like things are sliding into place and my luck is changing. Aside from putting the cottage into Mae’s name, Levi was my last bit of unfinished business in this town, and if Cybil has dealt with that for me, I guess I’m finally tying up my last loose ends. Honestly, it’s a huge weight off my mind, as freeing as letting go of that carving.
“Anyway, enough about that lizard. What brings y’all here? Not that I’m not thrilled to see you.” Ms. T hops up onto her own stool and blows on her drink before sipping it.
Rowan smiles, but there’s tension at the corners of his eyes. “We’re meeting Lyndsey, Oscar and Grace before they head back to Slidell. Gracie is finally getting that birthday book she’s been looking forward to, though I think seeing you is the real birthday present.”
“Oh, ain’t he a charmer!” Ms. T clasps a hand to her chest, grinning with delight. “I’ve missed that sweet girl. I should bring some lemonade in from the house if she’s comin’ over. Don’t want to be givin’ that little thing any coffee, now—not unless I want her hoppin’ about the shop like a swamp frog!”
She’s disappeared through the back before Rowan or I can say a word, giving us a moment of privacy before the family arrives. We haven’t exactly discussed what we’re going to do or say, and that tension around his eyes makes me nervous. Sure, this is all new and scary, but I don’t want to be anyone’s secret. And I don’t want to have to lie to one of my best friends, either.
“I think we’re going to have to get ahead of Ms. T,” I say, breaking the silence. “She can keep a secret under lock and key if we ask her, but I don’t think I’d feel right about keeping something like this from Lyndsey.”
Rowan nods, but he doesn’t look at me. “Sure, but maybe here isn’t the best place. Gracie might overhear, and that might be confusing for her.” He swallows loudly. “I mean, you were married to her dad, and you’re technically her stepmom, and… I think it’ll be a lot for her. So, we could tell Lyndsey when we’re back in New Orleans. Privately. Let her decide how she wants to break the news to Grace.”
I can’t argue with his logic, though in my cozy blanket of oxytocin, it’s also not something I properly considered. I don’t want to keep secrets, but I don’t want to put a wrecking ball through the family dynamic if this doesn’t pan out the way I hope it does. This isn’t the sprint I experienced with Ben, where everything was an incredible whirlwind, but, at the same time, tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for anyone. Losing him taught me that.
“Are you serious about me?” I decide to be blunt.
Rowan finally looks at me, his eyebrows shooting up. “What? Of course I am! If I wasn’t serious about you, I wouldn’t have come near you in the first place. I know I can be stupid sometimes, but I’m not that stupid.” He pauses, softening his voice. “Summer, it’s not that I don’t want anyone to know. I really do. But there are… variables here that need a more delicate approach. Gracie might get upset, and I don’t want to ruin her birthday trip. Hell, Lyndsey might get upset, and I’d rather we just enjoy the time we’ve got here.”
“When do you have to go back?” Another question I’ve been putting off asking.
“Tomorrow.”
That single word hits me like a freight train. I don’t know why, but I thought we had longer in our bubble, getting to know each other, getting to discover more about each other. But there it is—"tomorrow”. And I can’t help feeling like everything is going to change when tomorrow comes, and he goes back to New Orleans without me. Or maybe that’s paranoia talking, because I might have let go of my guilt and my grief, but there are things about a brutal, tragic loss that cling on—namely, the panic of not knowing if someone is safe or even alive when they’re not with you.
“But this is something you want?” I press. “Me and you—that’s something you want? It’s not just a long-weekend fling?”
He stares at me like I’ve sworn at him. “Summer, no. That’s not what I think this is at all. You are someone that I very much want to be with, but wedidsay that we’d take it slowly, and I think telling the family is something that should wait, mainly for the sake of saving my own neck. Lyndsey might actually kill me. But if you do want to say something to Lyndsey today, then… I’ll take your lead. I just can’t get it out of my head that it might be a bad idea.”
