Page 19 of Fortune’s Control (Fortune’s Creek #1)

“Lilah, check this out.” Emma covered her mouth to whisper. “This gas station has a Bigfoot display.”

I held back a giggle. “Willard believes every conspiracy from forty years ago. It confused me, too.”

A bulletin board beside the cash register overflowed with Bigfoot sightings, including grainy pictures and a yellowed map covered with push pins. I considered it strange when Shane first told me about it, but now it was merely another slice of local flavor.

Emma searched the bottom of her purse for exact change. “How much do I need? Ah! A penny.” She slapped several coins on the old gray countertop and opened her water bottle. “Wait. Do I have enough?”

My old habit kicked in. “Let me help.” I counted them for her and added another penny from my collection before touching her shoulder to prevent Emma from walking away. “Don’t you want your receipt?” I nodded with my chin and held back a smile as her eyes bulged.

Willard hand-wrote a receipt for her single bottle of water. “Thank you both. Tell your husband I said hello, Mrs. Wilcott.”

My smile froze. “I sure will. Have a great afternoon.”

“Mrs. Wilcott?” Emma asked once we were outside.

“I gave up correcting him. His forty-year-old conspiracies come with a sixty-year-old worldview. You want to see the gallery next?”

***** *

“Hi, Pete.” The overhead bell chimed as a tourist left the store. “How’s business?”

Pete pulled his glasses up as his stern expression softened into a big smile. “Lilah Wilcott. What brings you here?”

“I’m showing off Fortune’s Creek. My friend Emma came down from Atlanta for a quick visit.”

She waved and started rifling through a bin filled with art prints. “Are these all local?”

“Everything in this store is made locally, including the furniture outside.”

She picked up an art print and moved to another aisle.

“Will you tell Shane he owes me another shipment?” Pete asked me.

“I’ll let him know. He should be ready by the end of the week.” I made that up. Shane disappeared into his woodshop early every evening and emerged late at night. My answer pleased Pete, so I deemed it good enough.

“Will you be cheering him on at the baseball game?” he asked.

Our conversation stopped as a couple entered. I knew they weren’t local, and what did that say about me? I trekked into town almost daily, and the number of familiar faces continued to grow.

Emma overheard his question. “What baseball game is that? I didn’t know Shane played.”

“No idea.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. Shane’s broad shoulders and chest hinted at an athletic nature. He ran in the mornings before I woke up, too. He never mentioned a local baseball league before. Wouldn’t he want me to cheer him on? Or maybe he was awful and didn’t want an audience?

She placed the art print and a pair of earrings next to the cash register. “This town is a shopping temptation.”

Pete drew his glasses down the bridge of his nose. “Will that be all?” He removed the tiny stickers from both items and transferred them to one of his inventory sheets.

Emma watched him fill out a paper receipt with growing horror. “Please say you take credit cards.”

Pete chuckled. “You’ve been to Willard’s, haven’t you? Yes, we take them.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she said with palpable relief.

“We’ll be seeing you at the baseball game, Lilah,” Pete called out as we left the store.

*****

“This town is made from scenes you find on a postcard.” Emma hooked her arm through mine as we left the gallery behind. “No wonder you want to move here.”

“Not permanently. Only for now.” The faint protest sounded insincere even to my ears. “The only part of Atlanta I miss is you.”

“Same, but in reverse. What’s next? The playboy’s newest sex shop, right?”

I rolled my eyes, amused, knowing that Shane’s friend, via a few superficial personality traits, left quite the impression. “Aiden Taggert. He’s building a classic car restoration business. I don’t know what’s happening with the other storefront.”

“Another storefront? How fascinating.” She leaned in. “You know what else is interesting? Your marriage to Shane Wilcott. We should talk about that now that I’ve met him in person. Phone calls are great, but they only do so much.”

“What’s your impression of him?”

“He’s good-looking, gruff, and polite.”

I hoped for more. “Is that all?”

“What do you want me to say? If your stay here is temporary, then none of it matters. If you want to move here, you two need to figure things out. Because right now, I don’t understand it.

First, you married a complete stranger, which is bizarre enough.

” Emma made a star shape with her hands.

“Are you sure it’s because he feels sorry for you?

Because that doesn’t match what he told me. ”

“You never told me what you talked about.” There was no point in asking Shane. He was close-mouthed enough to pretend it never existed.

Emma stopped short. “He said his mother’s ghost would haunt him if he hadn’t stepped in. He also said his instincts told him to help you out, and he wouldn’t back down until they told him something different.”

“Is that all?” I’d bet on more.

“Tell me about your talk this morning instead.”

I won my bet, and what did it get me?

“After our conversation, I’m even more convinced he’s not into me.

You didn’t see him, Emma. He acted more like a police detective than a real-life one.

I’d hoped we’d discuss our relationship or that dreadful date, or at least agree to be friends.

Instead, he grilled me about suspects and evidence. I expected to be placed in a lineup.”

Her lips flattened. “I believe his questions came from a place of excessive concern rather than pity. They also show care.”

His sister, Sophie, warned me about him. Shane decided, and I followed. The entire conversation left me exhausted, so that by the end, my resolutions lay in ruin. All I wanted to do after was sit by the pool and drink margaritas.

I’m a certified mess. Put a trademark on me. Or was that copyright? “What’s the difference?”

“One says it’s time to pack it up and move on. The other...” She shrugged. “That suggests he cares.”

“But what about the baseball thing? He’s in a baseball league, and I didn’t know?

” This detail irked me, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.

Did Shane not want fans at his game? I’ve seen his shoulders and chest, and flat out refused to believe he couldn’t play, so embarrassment wasn’t an option.

“And why did our date end like it did? He left me standing there, Emma. I invited him to my room, and he said no. I gave him the ick, so hard pass.”

“Oh, I think something was hard.” She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“You did two days of your mother’s advice.

” Her lips twisted into a grimace. “If it were me, I would confront him. Approach him directly and be straightforward. Tell him your terms; if he doesn’t give in, then walk away. Get this annulment and you’re done.”

“You’d never marry him.”

“Okay, here’s the softer version of my opinion.

From everything you’ve told me, he’s interested and unsure how to proceed.

That matches the time I talked to him. Make the first move.

Invite yourself to this mysterious baseball game.

Then kiss him and see what he does next.

Ball in his court, or ball in his diamond, so to speak. ”

“That’s awful.”

We arrived at Aiden’s new storefront, and Emma went silent. She gazed up at the washed-out brick and worn-out sign. Her mouth fell open. “Is this it? It’s perfect for a boutique or a hobby shop or a little store.”

I squinted, confused. Aiden’s business comprised well over half the space, almost overwhelming the tiny retail shop next door. “See the second floor? The apartment comes with. Aiden works on it in his spare time, so it isn’t available yet.”

Emma choked.

“Are you interested?”

“What would my parents say? I know your other children fulfilled your dreams of becoming doctors and lawyers. I ran away to start up a sewing shop because you can’t take care of me forever. They’d disown me.”

Emma’s parents deserved awards compared to my mother. They expressed pride in Emma as much as they did in their other four children. Still, it must be difficult growing up surrounded by perfection, especially after her childhood struggles.

Neither of us quite fit in when we were growing up.

“They won’t disown you. You don’t need to be a nuclear physicist to be successful, and everyone knows how hard you worked in school.”

“Nuclear engineer,” she corrected.

“I don’t know the difference between those jobs. You want to go inside?”

“Is Aiden here?” Emma’s grimace returned.

I introduced them to each other yesterday, and Aiden broke into his silly antics, forever ruining any chance with my perfectionist best friend.

“He’s always around.”

“Let’s go get ice cream instead.”

**** *

My voice quivered. “I can’t believe he made it.” I wiped my eyes before tears formed.

“It’s a little canoe,” Emma crooned. She stroked the natural wood. “Shane made this?!?”

“He’s talented, isn’t he?” A strange pride filled me. A plush pillow sat on the soft wood’s gentle curves. A simple pattern adorned the edges. “It has a pirate flag. Where did he find that?” A thin wooden pole carried a skull and crossbones.

“It’s stunning.”

After ice cream, we shopped at Fortune’s Creek’s infamous antique stores and ate dinner at the Creekside Diner. I already considered it a perfect day, and then we came home to find Pirate’s new ship waiting on my bed.

Shane left me flustered yesterday morning, with his questions and his kiss. I touched my lips at the memory. He married a stranger and took a friend to dinner. What came next? “He’s in his woodshop right now.” Like he often was in the evenings. “Where’s Pirate? She needs to see her new bed.”

Emma snapped her fingers. “Lilah, the cat can wait. You can give her the bed later. Go thank him.”

Thank him and kiss him. “I’ll be back. Or not.”

I bounced down the stairs, stopping at the bottom as nerves hit. A trickle of intuition, a what-if, hit me. Shane never invited me to his woodshop. All I knew was that it once belonged to his father, and he enjoyed it. I found out he made those chairs from Pete rather than from him.

A cat purred and rubbed against my leg. “Hey, Pirate. Yes, you’re still the most beautiful, the most prettiest kitty in the house. You stay here. I have plans.”

I opened the door a crack and slid through. The garage apartment was dark, and I wondered where Sophie had gone.

The woodshop’s size surprised me, while the blast of chilled air shocked me. It shouldn’t have, considering the sweltering Florida heat.

I took in the heavy saw and tools hanging from a pegboard. A bench held a stack of wood planks, and I wondered if they were for Shane’s next project.

“Did I interrupt?”

Shane dropped his wooden mallet on a worktable. His typical dark t-shirt was missing, and I’m struck by my first glimpse of his bare skin. I wanted to drool. A jagged scar ran across one shoulder, and a sprinkling of dark hair covered his chest, disappearing under his waistline.

“I came to say thank you for Pirate’s new bed. She’s the luckiest kitty in town. It’s what I hoped for. Better.”

His shorts, slung low across his hips, drew my eye, and my toes curled over what they hid. I checked out his legs and noticed a strange device, made of metal and something else.

“Shane? What happened?” A dumb question, because it didn’t matter.

His repeated refusals to go swimming and his odd habit of running before dawn took on new meaning.

He was one of the few residents in Fortune’s Creek who insisted on wearing denim or Carhartts, while most chose shorts or sundresses.

“You didn’t want me to know.” I knew I was correct the moment I spoke.

“You didn’t think I was mature enough or brave enough to know.

Is that it?” I was less sure of this, but his apparent distrust was likely due to me.

“Get out.” His usual stoic expression turned stony and cold. He pressed both hands into the wooden bench, hard enough that I imagined it splitting in two.

“No, I don’t want to leave. We should talk about this.

” I thought back to our date, and its strange ending.

Shane kissed me like a man obsessed as his hands stroked between my legs.

Then he lost interest. “This is why you walked away like you did, isn’t it?

I spent days questioning myself, trying to figure out what I did wrong or why you rejected me.

Your secret mattered more when I wouldn’t have cared at all.

I liked you, Shane, I liked you and shared my secrets…

and you.” I knew what he saw. A mess. A woman more likely to create problems than solve them.

I waited, but no response came. He should give me an order. That’s his default response, just as Sophie warned me.

Except he’d already done so. Get out.

I squared my shoulders and blinked. “I didn’t intend to get in your way. Thank you again for Pirate’s new bed.”