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Ash shook her head. “This is all like a dream,” she said, remembering what she’d been thinking earlier. “It’s lovely and nice and even the town is idyllic, but dreams end, Pen. You have to wake up.”

“So you’re accusing me of being a fantasist?”

“Aren’t you?” Ash was getting angry now. “This isn’t your decision to make, Pen. Which is a good thing, since apparently you seem to think that committing fraud is an appropriate thing to do.”

“That’s not what I said at all,” said Pen. Her cheeks were flushed. “There’s uncertainty here, even you can see that.”

“And you’re recommending that I just ignore it and… what? Hope that the best happens and the worst doesn’t?”

“The best might happen if you ever give it a chance to,” said Pen. “But you never do.” She stood up. “And that’s because you don’t want to stay here anyway, you don’t want to have ties here.”

“I don’t want to live in a dream and be afraid of waking up every second,” snapped Ash, standing up too, leaning on the kitchen table.

“Then maybe you should think about what you do want,” Pen said. She took one last look at Ash and then turned and walked away.

Ash heard the shop bell dinging as Pen left.

She groaned and bent over, laying her head on the table.

She really hadn’t meant to argue with Pen. She’d needed to talk to someone, needed someone to tell her what to do. But of course Pen would want her to stay, would want her to take the bright road.

But Ash really didn’t know if she could do that. She didn’t know if she could accept something that she didn’t know was really hers.

And, to be completely honest, she didn’t know if she could stay here or have ties here or anything else. Having the inheritance taken away would make that decision for her. Without it, she could go back to London and have her old life back.

Chapter Twenty Three

Pen didn’t often cry. Whenever she felt the need, she either talked herself out of it or disappeared down to the beach to let it out.

But this time she broke down in the bakery. It was just all too much. She locked the doors, pulled down the shades, and then stood in the middle of her precious business and the tears started to fall.

So much change, so much that she’d gotten wrong, she didn’t know how she was going to become herself again.

Who was she if she couldn’t give freely, couldn’t be generous, couldn’t be optimistic?

And Ash… As much as she had feelings, and she really did, she was worried about Ash going away, whatever she said. She was just being so stubborn wanting everything to be just so, why couldn’t she see that some things were better left alone? The fates had handed her this bookshop, this town, this family if she wanted it, and all she could do was try to find reasons not to have any of it.

This might all have started off as something silly, stupid sunshine Pen falling over the ice queen next door. But something had happened when Ash had kissed her, a feeling that Pen had never had before, no matter how many other women she might have fallen for over the years.

For just a second, kissing Ash had been like coming home. It had fit so perfectly, been so comfortable, that Pen was sure that even if she’d have been the world’s biggest pessimist she would have thought this was somehow going to work out.

Now Ash was saying that she didn’t belong here, that she’d probably have to leave, and Pen couldn’t handle it. For once, her optimism wouldn’t stretch that far.

She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself, trying to stop the fear from taking over.

This was idiotic, in fact she needed to tell herself that.

“This is idiotic,” she said, her voice hiccuping and sad.

Not good enough.

She took a deeper breath.

“This is idiotic.”

Still not good enough.

She took the deepest breath she could.