Love Redone in Hidden Harbor (Island County Book 2) (2 page)

“Well, I had to tell someone. It appears my luck has started to change.”

“Don’t start thinking that way,” Sophie commanded. “Years from now, you’ll be able to laugh about this little meet up. It just might sting a little right now.”

“Do you think he ever thought about me after he left?” I mused.

“I’d imagine so.”

My mind flashed back to Cole and me…our last time together. We’d just finished up sophomore year in college, and I’d finished packing everything in my dorm. I sat on my naked bed and waited for him to pick me up in his truck.

And waited.

And waited.

Once he was an hour late, I knew something wasn’t right. When he finally arrived, and I looked in his eyes, I realized I’d need to find my own way back to Fireweed Island for the summer.

It was a confusing end to a dream relationship. The news he’d shared had been a complete surprise. He gave me some excuse about changing schools in the fall and not being able to get the major he truly wanted at this school. Everything he relayed had been in bits and pieces. His parents were upset with him, and he wasn’t going back to Fireweed Island for the summer. He’d already made arrangements for a place in Georgia, and he wanted me to come visit—blah, blah, blah.

But once I came to my senses, I quickly realized that his offer was for a pity visit, and I never took him up on it. In fact, I lost his number and never looked back.

Okay, that last part wasn’t how it went, but that was exactly how I wanted to deal with the breakup. I wanted him to be nothing more than a blip on my radar, but that wasn’t what he’d become. He’d become my everything and losing him hurt in a way I didn’t know possible. I couldn’t just dust him off and move on like he didn’t matter. Cole and I had shared dreams together. We shared our lives in the most formative of years and losing him hurt. He wasn’t only my boyfriend, he’d been my best friend. I wanted to imagine myself as the woman who would never allow herself to be put in a position to get hurt, but that wasn’t what happened.

What actually happened was I came back to Fireweed Island that summer, and in between working long hours at Norma’s Corner Café and helping out at the flower shop, I cried my heart out and cried some more. And that was my last summer on Fireweed Island until long after I graduated. I was embarrassed I’d let a guy torment me that much and have that much control over my emotions. Never would I fall for that twice.  Fool me five times, shame on the world and all that.

 “You’ve gone silent. You doing okay?” Sophie asked, her voice softening.

“I think so. I don’t know. This just sucks. How can I suddenly feel like I’m back in college wondering what I did wrong?”

“You were in love,” Sophie sighed. “Time is a funny thing. It’s supposed to heal all wounds, but I don’t think time does that at all, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“I am over him,” I promised her. “I’m just in a little shock. Time has done wonders to heal my wounds.”

“I think time likes to hide in the dark making you think you’re over it, and then when the moment is right, time rips open old wounds like it was yesterday,” she cautioned.

I glanced at Pickles, who was licking her paw in the front window display. I’d traded out Christmas for Valentine’s Day and the entire window was drenched in white tulle and red roses.

“I suppose. Anyway, I’d like to think I’m the bigger person. I’ll do the best job I can on his flowers. I’ll even give him a discount and I won’t even poison her flowers.”

“How very considerate,” Sophie laughed, but then went silent for a few seconds. “What if Pickles likes his fiancée more than you.”

“Then I’ll know what to give them for their wedding gift,” I laughed, feeling slightly better about making the call to my best friend.

“Even though he wrote the email, Cole must not have looked closely at your website or he would have noticed Pickles,” Sophie added.

It was true. I had a shot of Pickles tackling a delphinium on the front page of my website, and she was a distinctive looking cat. Cole would’ve remembered her, and to the rest of the world, it looked like Pickles was happily playing with the delphinium, but I knew better. That poor flower never had a chance in Pickle’s clutches.

“What did I do to deserve this?” I let out a groan.

“You were the one who decided to come back to Fireweed Island. You’re bound to run into people you grew up with.” She fell silent for a few seconds too long. “What if he did go to the website, recognized Pickles and decided this was his way to reach you?”

My heart rate climbed.

What if?

“Doubtful. Besides what would that say about him?” I clicked reply on the message and took a deep breath in. I glanced at my calendar and typed in the times I had available for the week they wanted to meet.

“True.”

“I just sent the email with my availability.” I blew out the breath I’d held in. My stomach knotted, and I felt dizzy at the thought of seeing the guy who broke my heart and chose someone else.

But why did I care? It had been eight years. A lot can change in eight years. I moved on with my life and he’d obviously moved on with his.

Did I mention I hadn’t had a serious relationship since we’d broken up?

I thought I might have left that part out too…

 

First, the hurt came flooding back, but then the anger took over. Who did Cole Hill think he was coming back to
my
island? The pure audacity of him to think he could just waltz off the ferry into my town and not feel the wrath of Natalie Jennings was purely ridiculous.

No. Wait…I was better than that. I was above it all, and I was certainly above love. I didn’t need it. Love was a worthless emotion. I’d managed to create a successful business without digging into my soul, and my nights were filled with friends and family. What more did I need?

“Is it me or is smoke coming out of Natalie’s ears?” Sophie grinned, her brow arching.

“Did you eat a bad oyster or something?” Nick asked, shoving a pint of beer in my direction.

We’d met for happy hour at one of our favorite restaurants near the ferry terminal. The tables in the Lazy Castaway were rustic from time, not perfected style, and old glass fishing floats hung from exposed beams in the ceiling, catching the sinking light as the sun dipped into the horizon.

“Nothing of the sort,” Sophie informed him. “Cole Hill is coming back.”

I snapped back to attention, and Nick grimaced. He knew the story because he’d lived it. Poor Nick had to deal with me that summer of the breakup. He washed dishes at Norma’s while I waited tables, and every second in between had been filled with me wondering aloud what went wrong.

“What?” Nick put his beer down without taking a sip. His brows knitted together.

“You heard her.” I rolled my eyes and glanced around the restaurant.

“As in the love of your life? That Cole Hill?” Nick questioned.

Why did my friends suddenly develop comprehension issues when it came to the subject of Cole Hill?

“Yes. It is
that
Cole Hill, but I’m completely over him, and I’m thrilled to discuss wedding flowers with him and his fiancée for their upcoming nuptials.” I took a sip of water instead of beer and sighed.

“Ouch.” Nick sucked in a large amount of air and whistled.

“What am I missing?” Andrea sat up straighter in the booth.

Andrea had been dating Nick for several months, but she lived in Seattle and Nick lived on the island. To say there were challenges in their relationship would be an understatement. It had taken months to convince Andrea that Nick had zero interest in me, and I had zero interest in him. She refused to believe we’d been longtime friends and nothing more. Nick was attractive with his dark hair and eyes, but he was like my little brother. The thought of anything more was cringeworthy, and neither of us could understand why Andrea didn’t see that. Not to mention, Andrea didn’t approve of what Nick did for a living, where he lived, how he dressed. Actually, the list of things she didn’t like about Nick seemed to be longer than the list of things she liked about him, which had all of us, except Nick, puzzled. But whoever any of us dated, we supported.

Except for me. I didn’t date anyone so it made it super easy for everyone.

“Cole was the one,” Sophie informed Andrea.

“Obviously not.” I shook my head, deciding on beer after all.

“Oh, he’s
that
guy.” Andrea nodded, her blonde ponytail bouncing up and down.

The way she said it made me wonder what Nick had told her. I was surprised my dating life had come up at all between them. Unless it was to help persuade Andrea that she shouldn’t be worried in the least about Nick and me.

“So have you heard back from him? Have you set the appointment yet?” Sophie asked, sipping on her cocktail.

“They’re coming for the weekend so I’m meeting them this coming Friday,” I informed her.

“That’s only two days away,” she whispered.

I wasn’t sure who was taking this revelation worse.

“Did you know his older brother is the lead singer for that huge band, Crimson Strings?” Nick asked, spinning a paper coaster with his index finger.

“I have no idea who Crimson Strings is.” I glanced at Sophie, who shrugged. Obviously, she didn’t either. I remembered Cole’s older brother, Anthony, as being a real sweetheart. It was actually kind of weird to picture him as a singer in a rock band. In fact, I remember how kids teased him endlessly, calling him Ant Hill for short. He hated the nickname, but who was laughing now?

“Are you serious?” Andrea yelped, bringing me out of my fog. “You don’t know who Crimson Strings is? Like the most badass band of this year, and you have no idea who they are, and you used to date Anthony Hill’s brother?”

It looked like Andrea’s head was about to explode, and maybe that would be better for us all if it did.

No.

That was wrong. Nick liked her and so did we.

“What kind of music do they play?” Sophie asked.

“Indie music,” Andrea answered, sliding her fingers through her ponytail. “I wonder if Anthony will be there.”

“Where?” I asked, furrowing my brows.

“At the appointment with his brother to discuss flowers.”

“Brothers of the groom don’t usually show up to pick out flowers,” I laughed and shook my head.

Nick slid his phone over to me, and I glanced down at a picture recognizing Anthony Hill immediately. He didn’t look much different than when I’d last seen him. His brown hair looked a little more styled, but other than that he looked like the same old Anthony. I wondered what Cole looked like. I’d done such a good job of never looking him up. I didn’t even know what he did for a living.

That was how
over
him I was.

“I saw the band at the Paramount a few months ago,” Andrea continued. “Their music is amazing live. The band is phenomenal.”

“
We
saw the band,” Nick corrected.

I didn’t like how Andrea seemed more interested in Anthony than Nick.

“It’s got to sting extra now,” Andrea chirped, stretching.

Nick flashed me a funny look and I smiled.

“No, not really.”

“Do you know what Cole does for a living?” Andrea asked.

“Nope, and unless he mentions it during our flower consultation, I plan on leaving it that way,” I warned her.

“So you haven’t ever looked him up?” she pried.

I shook my head.

“Not once?”

“Not even once, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

Andrea didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but I didn’t care. The truth was that I didn’t think I could handle looking Cole up. What good would that do anyway? It had been eight years. Why would I make things worse on myself by looking him up? I knew how my mind operated. First, I’d casually look up his name, and then I’d start thinking about him. Then, I’d look him up again, and I’d start wondering about Cole, formulating questions I’d never have answers to. I’d give him a resting place in my brain that he didn’t deserve. The process didn’t sound like a fun one. In fact, merely thinking about Cole and his brother made my stomach turn into a knotted mess, and I doubted my decision to meet with him about wedding flowers.

“Maybe you could give back Pickles,” Nick half-joked.

“Pickles and I have made it for this many years, we might as well go the whole stretch. Besides, she’s getting up there in age.”

“You’ve barely made it this many years. You do remember why she no longer lives at home with you and is the shop cat, right?” Nick grinned mischievously.

Even though Pickles didn’t like me, I’d grown to understand her and she had a place in my heart. Granted, that place in my heart was wrapped with Kevlar, but she had one.

“You were afraid to even go home at night,” Sophie chimed in. “Remember that one time she was hiding on top of the bookcase by your front door, and when you came home she pounced on your head and clawed your ear?”

“She left a mark on that one.” I grumbled, touching the puffy scar on my ear.

“What about when she’d hide under the couch and wait until you took your shoes off before attacking. She’d wrap her paws around your ankles and sink her claws into your flesh. You couldn’t even shake her off.”