Page 7

Turning the Page

“I just never imagined I’d feel so many different things for someone.” Maya sat across from me at the circular table in the break room. “When Jason walks in a room, the temperature changes and the planets hug each other or something. Like, the planets are just as in love as we are. It’s like they’re these beings with hearts.”

“Wow. Planets with hearts.” I nodded along, as much support as I could manufacture, which wasn’t an impressive amount.

Maya didn’t seem to mind the complete lack of enthusiasm in my voice. Hell, she didn’t even seem to need me here for this conversation. She plowed forward like a homesick horse that saw the barn in the distance. “My skin gets sensitive in the best way, and I just want to stop whatever I’m doing and stare into his dreamy hazel eyes until the world goes away forever. Has that ever happened to you?” She laughed.

I didn’t. I blinked and set down my half-consumed carton of blueberry yogurt. “No.”

She waited for more. There wasn’t any. I was a failure at romantic cheerleading these days.

“No? Savanna, that breaks my heart. You more than anyone else are deserving of the most wonderful love on Earth.” Maya had been noticeably different since she and Jason had become an item. Starry eyes and overly talkative, just positive that romance was the be-all and end-all. She threw herself back in the chair and let it roll a few feet. She was hardcore in love with Jason and convinced everyone should join her in the land of the gaga.

I hated it.

Yep. That’s who I’d become in the last few months, the founding member of Dreamer’s Bay’s very own Love Can Kick Rocks Club. Boo to hearts. Screw attraction. Forget romantic meet-ups on bridges and doctors who snapped your hope in half like a twig. I couldn’t exactly say that to lovestruck Maya, however, so instead I slipped into smile mode and shrugged. “That’s me, deserving of wonderful, happy love during my time on this planet.” I made a show of catching the time. “Oh, look. I better take a lap around the floor. After that, I’ll be in my office for the next fifty years if anyone needs me.”

“I know you’re probably still upset about the woman from Charleston, but there are plenty of awesome women out there.”

“Yep. Just everywhere.” I didn’t feel the need to correct her.

On the way to my office, I made a mental note to change aisle seven at the store into the Lonely Hearts aisle. It would feature Kleenex bulk packs, lots of chocolate, and wine. I predicted it would be the most popular aisle in the store inside of a week. Not that I needed any more help in that department, personally. I was well over Rejection on the Bridge, as I liked to call it. It had taken a couple of months for me to wallow in my sadness and absorb the lost future I’d sold myself on, not to mention recover from the blow to my ego. But I was there now, and happily jaded. And maybe jaded was so much better than sad. I was a realist these days, no longer romanticizing a concept that didn’t deserve the boost. Let the Hallmark TV movies brainwash other people for a while. Life was too short to get caught up in fantasy. I actually preferred the new enlightened me.

“I don’t like this Bitter Betty version of you,” Jonathan said over drinks that evening at Ronnie Roo’s. Martinis were on special for five dollars, and I wasn’t about to miss.

“Why exactly are you jaded now?” Elizabeth asked with a curious squint. She didn’t relish martinis and opted for a Blue Moon. As much as I loved Elizabeth Draper and valued her friendship, she was a forever optimist who was, of course, in a wonderful relationship. Thereby, her outlook couldn’t be trusted.

I shrugged. “I just think that true love is a high bar that only a few attain. I’m not opposed to finding it, but I’m also just fine with it never happening, the more likely scenario. It feels so much better to just accept that. Sex? Sure. Love? No longer needed, thanks. I’m good.”

Jonathan hooked a thumb. “See? Bitter. The worst. And all because that doctor in Charleston ghosted her. We hate her.”

“No, we don’t,” I said, placing a hand on his wrist. “She had her reasons and I have to respect them. Whatever they are.”

Elizabeth watched us, her gaze moving from Jonathan to me as if piecing together the puzzle. “I don’t know this story. I’m woefully behind.”

“It was a whole thing that happened. I don’t broadcast it,” I said. “Who wants to tell people they were stood up in dramatic fashion?”

“It was dramatic?” Her eyes were wide as she leaned in. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. Now I need details.”

Jonathan took the reins. “Highlight reel. Savanna met Dr. Kyle, a gorgeous brunette, in Charleston. They spent a hot and heavy weekend together in the big city. There was lust. There were feelings flying like witches on broomsticks.” I tried not to roll my eyes as he pressed on. Or worse, allow myself to remember the details of that weekend too vividly. “They wanted more of each other. But the timing was extra bad, so the fancy doctor suggested they meet on the suspension bridge in,” he held up a finger, “wait for it. One year’s time.”

“No,” Elizabeth said, wide eyed.

“Oh, yes.”

“You anticipated this for a year?” Elizabeth’s brow creased with worry. “And Dr. Kyle didn’t show up?”

“She did not,” I said, and stirred my second martini. Going for two was maybe not the best idea on a weeknight, but here we sat.

Elizabeth blinked, trying to reconcile the information with her overly large heart that was probably bleeding for me this very second. “Savvy, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I didn’t know any of this.”

I covered her hand. “Don’t take it personally. I didn’t tell anyone but Jonathan and a few of my coworkers.”

“And you didn’t even have your sweet Lindy when you came home.” She shifted into her feisty mode. I’d seen it before during cornhole tournaments and Tuesday night bowling. Her team, the Ballbusters, didn’t mess around. “You should have come to me with this. We could have eaten popcorn all night. Downed a bottle of red wine while we cursed out medical dramas on the TV.”

I realized she was right, but I was someone who had trouble asking for help. After a life filled with grief, I’d learned to carry my sadness on my own. People got tired of feeling bad for you. “I’ve always been a pull myself up by the bootstraps kind of person,” I confessed. “I think that’s what I was doing.”

“Childhood trauma,” Jonathan said, nodding along. “Abandonment issues, which I’m sure this didn’t help.”

“Don’t therapize me while I’m having martinis. Besides, it’s all good now,” I added. “Speaking of childhood, I should probably tell you both that I don’t know who my biological father is.” Damn, those second drinks sure did loosen lips. Where had that sprouted from? Possibly because Elizabeth’s kind offer had softened my heart. Eating popcorn all night and cursing at fake doctors sounded downright wonderful.

The table went still. My two friends exchanged a fully shocked look and my cheeks went warm with embarrassment. My blurt was out there now. No going back. “Yeah. Not a big deal. But, yeah .”

“What are you talking about?” Elizabeth said gently. “You’re wondering if your dad was actually… your biological parent ?”

I took a beat. “He wasn’t. I read the firsthand correspondence between them that confirmed it.” I raised a shoulder. “Maybe they were waiting for me to get a little older to break the news. Maybe they were never planning to. I’ll never know.” My gaze immediately dropped to my drink, emotion welling and threatening to take over. I fought hard against it. Jonathan had yet to speak.

“Why do I feel like a loser twice over now in this conversation?” I added a laugh to ease the tension. Before I could continue my train of thought a moment longer, two arms were around me. Jonathan’s. The warmth and tightness of his squeeze sent a wash of calm through my entire body. God, I needed that. I relaxed into him, my safe friend, aware that there were tears in my eyes, obscuring my vision. He had me. These two people truly did care. Wordlessly, I covered his arms with mine and held on, this time not running from the emotion.

“It’s okay,” Elizabeth said. I met her gaze across the table and offered a wobbly smile. She’d gone all misty, too. “We have you. You don’t have to keep up any of those walls, okay?” I reached for her hand, and she gave it a squeeze, her words making me want to sob. After months of holding it all in, this was the first time I’d confessed the truth about my parents to anyone.

“Thank you,” I managed in a rasp before sucking in oxygen. Not my prettiest moment. I caught the tear that fell with the back of my hand, realizing my entire cheek was wet. “I don’t know where any of that came from. Pardon my public waterworks.”

“Well, I know,” Elizabeth said. “You’ve been carrying a heavy load and you just laid down a portion of it to your friends. It’s exactly what you should be doing. In fact, do it more, okay? Bad day at work? Call me. Call Jon.”

“Okay,” I said, reaching for a napkin to dry apparently my entire face.

Jonathan nodded and returned to his stool. “Tell us what you read.”

“Oh, the letters.” I recounted the story of my parents’ courtship piece by piece, including my dad’s pledge to love and raise me as his own. At the end, I placed my empty drink on the table. “So, the remaining question is, if Bradley Potter wasn’t my father, who is?”

My friends, who’d scarcely moved a muscle as I recounted the story, came alive at my question. “You have to find him,” Elizabeth said emphatically.

“Only if that’s something you’re interested in,” Jonathan said cautiously. He always had looked both ways before crossing a street. “But it is, right? I mean, you want to know?”

“I’m not sure I do. Why go asking the universe for trouble?”

They exchanged a look, as if checking in with each other, likely out of their depth. Couldn’t blame them. I was, too.

“I think you play it by ear,” Elizabeth said. “Doesn’t have to be today.”

“Good point,” I said. “I can start that search any time I want or not at all.”

“Exactly,” Elizabeth said. “And this doesn’t change a single thing about you. You’re the same person you always were.”

But was I?

As I walked home that night, it felt like something had been unleashed that I couldn’t rein back in. Just as I’d feared, saying the words out loud forced me to look at my situation head-on. Maybe for the first time. I turned right onto Lonesome Dove Lane and laughed at the irony. “Won’t be staying long,” I told the houses I passed. Canary Park was a much happier street, and I was glad I’d chosen to call it home. In between, I couldn’t stop thinking about who my father might be. Was he right here in town? Across the country? Had we ever met? Did he even know about me?

I had a sneaking suspicion I was going to deal with all these swirling questions sooner rather than later. “Oh, please be later,” I mumbled as I arrived in my driveway. “I just need calm waters for a while. Can we do that?” I asked, peering up at the darkened sky. “No more ripples. Thank you! Plate is full. Gonna rest now!”

I stared at the stars and nodded with finality. Yep. That should do it.

* * *

I hated having to rush. The chaotic fury that descended on me when time was of the essence was perhaps my least favorite state of being. I added cushions to travel times, sat in parking lots in advance of any given appointment to ensure I dodged the pressure-filled drive to the venue. However, Elizabeth called to report that Eileen, who usually handled the turnovers for me at the Airbnb, had called in sick with the flu.

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth explained. “I’d do it myself, but I’m booked driving Mrs. Gray to her cardiology appointment.”

“Mrs. Gray is more important,” I told her. “I’ll handle the turnover. Thanks for letting me know, Lizzie.”

“I will find a way to make this up to you.”

I smiled into the phone. “A skydiver writing my name for all the town to see? I’ve always wanted to see Savanna Rocks in the sky.”

“We can work out the details later.”

“Don’t let me down.”

After we slid off the call, I assessed my schedule. Check-in time at the Airbnb was any time after ten, which meant I needed to sashay my ass on over there and get to work. The booking was for three nights, taking us into the long Indigenous Peoples’ Day weekend. With most folks off on Monday, the grocery store would be overrun with customers on the hunt for burgers, barbecue sauce, chips, and snack foods of all varieties. Luckily, we were stocked and ready for ’em. I checked my watch, which made me sprint like a maniac to the Airbnb. In record time, I changed the sheets, scrubbed down the kitchen and bathrooms, placed my welcome bottle of wine on the marble countertop, and personalized my welcome card. The coffee carousel was fully stocked, and the remotes were neatly lined up for use in the living room. I placed the keys in the lockbox on the doorknob, leapt into my car, and headed for the market, only ninety minutes late. Not bad, all things considered. I was determined to survive this day. Hell, maybe I’d even turn it around in overtime.

I sang along to my anti-romance playlist that was full of songs about strength and empowerment, with hints of accusation. I was quite proud of myself for leaping into action when Elizabeth called. I carried that same triumphant energy with me to work, moving about the floor like a seasoned politician among the masses. Smiling, chatting, helping direct our customers to the aisle where they’d locate the cookout foods they sought. “You’ll find the marshmallows on eight,” I told Brandon, my old lab partner from high school. “Grab the ones in the bright blue packaging. They plump better and I’m not even kidding.”

“Hot tip. Swing by the garage soon. I’ll give ya twenty percent off an oil change.”

I actually needed one of those. Brandon was a helpful guy who never forgot that I used to slip him the answers on our weekly bio quiz. “In that case, I’m bringing my car by this week.”

He tipped his Clemson ballcap, which hid the fact that he was losing his hair. Man, time was marching on and dragging us all with it. At least Brandon was married with a family. No. Stop that . I refused to pay attention to that little clock in my head anymore and took pleasure in smashing it to hell with my imaginary baseball bat.

I smiled after Brandon and turned, moving with purpose toward the front of the store, and smacked right into a woman carrying a bag of mandarins in each hand. To my horror, they both split on impact, sending tiny balls of citrus scurrying in all directions like cockroaches when the lights were turned on.

She looked down in surprise, her eyebrows dashing to her hairline.

“I am so incredibly sorry,” I said, dropping to my knees. Maya, who was returning from her break, was immediately at my side, helping to coral the wayward produce. The woman joined us and I realized I’d never seen her before. She had shoulder length blond hair and brown eyes, and seemed to be around my age.

“No,” she said. “All my fault. I was lost in my own world and left the oranges vulnerable to attack. When will I fucking learn?”

I laughed. “Admittedly, I have to stop attacking the produce.”

Once we had the mandarins assembled and wrangled back in their bags, we stood. “I can swap these out for you,” Maya said, taking the busted bags and dashing off toward produce.

“I don’t think we’ve met. Are you in town for the long weekend?” I asked. Maybe this was my new house guest.

“Actually no, I moved to town a little over a month ago, but I’ve been using a grocery delivery service.” She smiled at me. That was meaningful eye contact if I’d ever seen it, and love sucks club or not, I didn’t mind. “I’m realizing my mistake now.”

Well, well. Did that mean what I think it meant? I stood a little taller and noticed we were about the same height.

“In that case, welcome to town. I’m Savanna. The store manager.” I extended my hand, keeping it professional.

She closed her hand over mind. Firm but not too firm. “Nice to meet you, Savanna. I’m Mary Jane, but everyone calls me MJ.”

“MJ it is. What brings you to the Bay?”

“I handle commercial real estate and a friend offered me a job. Did a really great sales pitch on all this little place has to offer.”

A thought dawned on me. “Does that mean you work with Devyn Winters?” I remembered Elizabeth saying Devyn had been working to expand the business when we had martinis the other night at Ronnie Roo’s. Maybe MJ was part of the new team.

“Exactly. Wow. You know Devyn? Small world.”

“Small town ,” I corrected. “Same high school. Her wife, Elizabeth, is a good friend of mine.”

“Perfect.” Her eyes shone bright. “Then we should all get together sometime.”

“Definitely.”

She passed me a winsome smile. MJ was pretty and appraising me in a manner that pinged my gaydar. Interesting. “I’m serious, though. I’m not just making conversation to be polite. It’s not who I am.” She slid a strand of blond hair behind her ear. I liked her subtle pink gloss. “I’d love to, I don’t know, hang out. Get to know you. Hear more about the store.” She was staring at me happily, both confident and wistful. What in the world was happening? Women didn’t often walk into town and pay this kind of overt attention to me. Then again, we didn’t have a million gay or bisexual women roaming the streets, and straight women didn’t look at me the way MJ was.

I was now aware that Maya had returned and was watching the exchange like the last few points of a tennis match, clutching two bags of mandarins like her life depended on it. “Shall I carry these to the front?” she finally asked, leaping in when I’d let the conversation drop. The problem was my brain was trying to process the fact that I was being hit on in my very store, and my mouth was lagging behind.

“That would be so helpful,” MJ said, breaking our eye contact and turning fully to Maya. “I’ll follow you to checkout.”

I raised a hand, returning to manager status. “I’ll be sure to tell Elizabeth that I ran into you.”

“Take care, Savanna. Watch out for the fruit. Seriously.” She shook her head in annoyance and then broke into a playful smile. I had a feeling she was a lot of fun.

“Good advice.” I watched the very attractive woman who’d kinda sorta hit on me round the corner and head to the front of the store. I didn’t leap with excitement at the very viable dating prospect who’d just moved to town and shown actual interest. That would have been the old me. But I did smile pleasantly, my spirits a tad higher, as I wondered if anything would actually come of it. Who knew? Maybe love wouldn’t suck forever, a thought I hadn’t actually considered until this moment. Maybe I just needed the right person to waltz in with their bags of mandarins and make everything feel a little lighter.

Maybe all hope wasn’t lost.

A short time later, Maya appeared at my side as I straightened the mess the sweet snacks aisle had become. People really went crazy when they arrived in the middle of their favorite snacks, like toddlers at a cookie buffet.

“She was so nice, right?” Maya said, sliding her hand into the pockets of her store apron and executing a perfect heel to toe rock.

“Mm-hmm. She was.” I picked up a package. “Did you see that a new batch of seasonal Oreos arrived? Grab ’em while you can.”

“She was really pretty, too. Did you notice that?”

“Who?”

Maya blinked patiently. “MJ. The woman with the mandarins who you shoulder checked. I think she liked it.”

“Oh, right! Yes. She was pretty.” I could admit that much.

“You should take her up on that offer and get together with your friends.”

“I might.”

“When?” Maya sighed. She wanted everyone to be in love because she was, and I was ruining her fun by not playing along. I could throw her a bone.

“Not sure, but maybe I’ll keep an eye out for the next time she’s in the store.”

You would have thought I’d just hit her happy switch, as an enthusiastic smile took over her face and sparks of light practically shot from her head. She pointed at me, backing up. “I will keep an eye out, too, and let you know the very next time she’s here.” She clapped like a sorority girl at a rosé brunch. “This is gonna be awesome. Just wait. I feel like we had an important discovery today, and I’m gonna keep an eye on this situation for you, Savanna. I’m your wing woman.”

I nodded along passively. “Thank you for that. I’ve not had one of those.”

A little fun never hurt anyone. It wasn’t like I was emotionally invested in this working out, which was kind of the glory in the scenario.

More shoppers came and went as Friday coasted into Friday night. I finished my workday making the schedule for later in the month so my employees could make plans. The day had been mundane, outside of mandarin-gate, but as I moved through it, I allowed the memory of my run-in with the newest resident of Dreamer’s Bay to bring a smile to my face…and I kinda liked it.

* * *

Though the store was open seven days a week, I personally had Saturday off, which allowed me to marinate in the sheer excitement of having absolutely zero plans. I could call Jonathan and see if he wanted to grab food on the boardwalk. I could stay home and read an entire novel on the couch, uninterrupted. Maybe I’d scoot over to Ronnie’s and see who was watching a game at the bar and join them. There was likely a cornhole tournament of some kind I could sign up for. However, most of those things couldn’t happen without my phone charger, which I couldn’t seem to locate. A quick retrace of my steps told me that the last time I’d seen it was when I’d turned over the Airbnb. I closed my eyes, realizing that I’d definitely left it in the kitchen, likely still plugged into the socket. Sadly, my phone was moments from dying completely. Surely I could message the Alexandra woman staying there, apologize profusely for the interruption, grab it, and go.

An hour later and I’d done just that: messaged my guest, grabbed a shower, fluffed my hair, and applied lip gloss. I planned to swing by Ronnie’s before a round of cornhole.

“How would you feel if we invited MJ, Devyn’s new associate, to play with us?” Elizabeth asked on the call as I drove to Lindy’s place. I could hear the smile she was likely trying to hide even through the phone.

“I’m fine if you want to bring MJ.” The truth was the idea sent a small shiver up my spine, which was alarming and pleasant at the same time.

“Fantastic! You know this is gonna be a great day, right? We are going to slam this town at cornhole and then enjoy the best celebratory drink at Ronnie’s. Go, team, go!”

I allowed Elizabeth her small celebration, because like Maya, she was in love and hell-bent on the world joining her.

“Yes,” I said smiling. “We will do all of those things, but I better run because this phone is not long for this charge.”

“I can’t believe we’re going on a double date. This is fabulous!”

“Wait. A date. Is that—” But the sound cut out because the phone was now dead. “Dammit.” I dropped my phone onto the passenger’s seat and hurried up the walk, wondering how I was going to maneuver a date I had no original intention of going on.

I knocked and placed my hands on my hips, ordering myself to relax and embrace the opportunity to get to know MJ. She was beautiful, funny, and actually my type in a lot of ways.

The door swung open and I stared at who I presumed to be Alexandra, the guest for the weekend. Only it wasn’t. Kyle stared back at me, her eyes big, luminous and searching mine before she broke into a tentative smile. “Hey.” She held up a hand. “I realize you’re probably surprised to see me. Also, maybe not thrilled.”

Silence hung in the air, untouched and still. I stared. I blinked. I tried to catch up, but my heart had stopped beating, or maybe it hammered so forcefully that I couldn’t decipher the individual beats. “Hey?” I said back. It sounded like a question because it was. My skin prickled uncomfortably.

“Sorry. That feels informal. It’s good to see you, Potter.”

“Please don’t call me that.” The name jolted me back to a different time, a different me. I held up a finger. “You also don’t get to smile at me, okay?” There was a hushed quality to my tone that I didn’t have full control over. At least I didn’t sound welcoming. It would be just like me to allow my duties as host to supersede my own damn feelings.

She nodded and stood at full height, removing her hand from the doorjamb. This time I was less impressed with the two inches she had on me. “I understand, and you have every right to be unhappy with me.” She placed a hand back on the doorframe. Apparently, we were both uncomfortable. I refused to allow my brain to absorb the details of her appearance. I was already aware that she looked just as attractive as I’d remembered, if not more, so I abstained from analyzing the details. I needed to remain on course. “I was unhappy with me, too.”

Every part of me wanted to ask why she’d left me alone on that bridge and why, if she had a good reason, she hadn’t contacted me to explain. I wasn’t hard to track down. I’d made sure of that. I was also a good listener and generally a compassionate human being. She hadn’t taken advantage of either. And offering her a platform to explain now , all these months later, would hijack my brain just when I’d started to get it back. “It’s all good,” I said coolly. Go, me, not backing down.

“It’s not all good. It wasn’t okay. That’s part of the reason I’m here.”

“What’s the other part?” I placed a hand on my hip and waited.

“I wanted to see this place. I’ve thought about it a lot since…that weekend.” She brightened. “The town is honestly every bit as beautiful as you’d described.”

“I can’t argue with that. And you just happened to book my Airbnb?”

“That part was definitely on purpose. But I did need a place to stay.”

The anger I’d kept tamped down began to bubble. “You can’t just waltz in like this and expect me to be happy to see you.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Great. And wait a second. My notes said Alexandra.” I peered behind Kyle. “Where is she?”

“Alexandra is my legal first name.”

I remembered that now.

“It’s also my mother’s name and my grandmother’s.” She swallowed. She was nervous. “Family tradition. We all go by our middle names.”

“Very convenient.” There was no reason to poke at her family, but I was grasping at any pebble I could throw.

“Do you want to come in?” Kyle asked. The sunlight slanted onto the porch and made her eyes shine bright blue. I hated the sun. And nature. I even loathed this porch all of a sudden, and it was an innocent porch! “I have your charger all ready for you.”

“Yep. I’ll just grab it and go.” I barreled my way forward, forcing her to flatten against the side of the door to give me room to pass.

“Oh,” she said in surprise at the clumsy shuffle I’d forced us into, chest-to-chest. The second problem with that little maneuver was that it put us in extra close proximity, and the instant smell of her watermelon shampoo, lotion, or whatever the hell it was sent me spiraling back in time to the hours we’d spent in bed, talking, laughing, and well, everything else. My face buried in her hair, my hands at her waist, moving upward. And now here she was, smelling… like her , which nearly brought me to my knees. Damn Dr. Alexandra Kyle.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and moved away from her as fast as I could, heading down the hall, making a left into the kitchen, snatching up my charger, and stalking right back to the door. She met me in the hall and followed me.

“Savanna.”

“What?”

“Do you think we could find some time to talk?”

“Today? No. I have a date,” I called over my shoulder. “Lots of potential, too.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing the word out. “Maybe tomorrow, then. I’m here for a bit.”

“You’re only booked through Monday at ten a.m. I’m a stickler for a prompt checkout.”

“Right. But I saw the house was open next week. I’d love to extend now that I’m here.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No room at the inn.” I was being petty. Kyle hadn’t murdered anyone. She hadn’t lied or cheated on me. But she had destroyed my feelings without a word, embarrassed me, broken my heart, and now wanted to stay in Lindy’s house on extension? Some people might have bounced back easily from what had happened between us, but I wasn’t one of them. My heart had been battered too many times in my life to give her a second shot to land another blow.

“Surely you can find another place. Any other place.”

“Yeah, it’s just the holiday weekend—”

Indigenous Peoples’ Day; I hadn’t forgotten.

“—might make it difficult.”

I briefly met her eyes as we arrived at the door and, just as quickly, looked away again. That moment of connection felt too personal, and I didn’t want to give her even that small piece of me. The problem was I’d caught the concern in her eyes and hated the thought of someone with nowhere to stay, even if it was Kyle Remington, of love ’em and leave ’em fame.

“Fine. You can stay, but this is not some kind of agreement between friends. Fill out the official online paperwork and reserve the place formally. And no discounts.” I folded my arms, pleased with my stern delivery.

She held up her hands. “Easy enough. I’ll do it right now.”

I paused, still letting my thoughts assemble like a torn-up piece of paper seeking repair. “What are you going to do for a week?” The question had flown from my brain to my lips before I could intercept it. I didn’t need Kyle erroneously thinking that I cared about her itinerary. I didn’t. I was simply confused as to why she’d stick around.

“Well, first of all, I’m planning on getting a tan.”

“Summer’s pretty much gone,” I said, even though that wasn’t the best argument.

“The beach here is still gorgeous, and I plan to use it. After that,” she shrugged, “the sky’s the limit. I heard there’s a pretty cool pub in town. Ron the Rooster?”

“Ronnie Roo’s.” Kyle was planning to hang out at Ronnie’s? My Ronnie’s. What was happening right now?

“Right. That is exactly the one.” She seemed thrilled I knew of it. “Thought I might check it out. Catch a college game and a beer.”

“You do you.” Look at me. So unaffected. So over it. Not at all wondering what she was like when screaming for her favorite team at a bar.

“Okay.” She exhaled. “I’d still welcome a conversation, though. In fact, I’m putting in a formal request.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Let’s just put that on ice for now. You should explore Dreamer’s Bay and all it has to offer.” I slipped into host mode, which was so much easier. “Hopefully, you found the binder I made with all the tips and recommendations for restaurants and outings. Bountiful Park is beautiful. Mature trees. Walking trails.”

“I read the binder back to front as soon as I arrived.” She was staring at me unabashedly. I remembered now that she did that. Eye contact was her strong suit. It was how Kyle moved through time and space, like she owned them. I’d found that ridiculously attractive once upon a time. Right now, it just annoyed me. “You look really great, Savanna.”

“I hope my date thinks so.”

“She will,” Kyle said softly. “What’s her name?”

“MJ.”

She nodded but said nothing.

I refused to feel guilty. “Anyway. Enjoy your stay. Send me a message through the app if you have any questions or concerns.”

“What if I want to ask you for a friendly drink? We can catch up.”

I froze. I had so many questions, and the invitation was likely harmless. But then I remembered my last few months, the changes in me, the disdain for romance, feeling like such an unwanted little fool. No. I couldn’t be dragged backward again. Not when I was just now poking my head out from the hole I’d burrowed into.

“I’d rather keep it professional. Guest and host.”

“That’s fair. Well, I hope you have a nice time on your date with MJ.” She sounded sincere. That was something.

“Thank you. I hope you enjoy Dreamer’s Bay.”

“I’m truly looking forward to exploring all the best spots. The boardwalk alone sounds like somewhere one could spend a lot of time.”

“It is.” I deflated against my will. She’d be exploring my town, and I wasn’t going to be a part of it. Why did I feel completely off balance by all this? I knew why. Because she’d blindsided me. Again. That’s what Kyle did, apparently. “It’s the perfect day for it,” I said in my most serene tone. “Have a nice time.”

I didn’t look back. Everything in me longed to stalk to my car, but I made a point to glide. She would not win whatever game she was playing. I had a beautiful woman fresh into town who was interested in getting to know me, and nothing made me want to get to know her more than Kyle’s appearance in Dreamer’s Bay.