Page 27 of More Than Words (Trickle Creek: The Lyons #2)

The conversation picked up again without me, and I let it. I made a mental note to let Rochelle take over at the next romance book club meeting. Usually, it was one of my favorite clubs to facilitate, but I didn’t usually have a broken heart of my own.

I nodded along as someone else brought up tropes, but my mind drifted away again. This time, to Ethan and the way he’d looked at me in the parking lot, like he truly didn’t know why I was upset. And then again in the plaza, like he still didn’t understand what had broken between us. Or why.

Maybe he didn’t.

But how could he not get it?

After what felt like a torturously long time, I glanced at the clock over the mantel and clapped my hands together, forcing a smile onto my face.

“Okay, group. We’ll have to wrap it up here for the night.

Next month, we’re diving into holiday romances.

Check your email for a list of recommended books.

” I put a smile I didn’t feel on my face.

“And prepare yourself for snowed-in cabins, hot chocolate, and flannel-clad heroes with all the Christmas carols.”

“My favorite kind.” Joanne wiggled her eyebrows.

I offered her a soft smile, because I didn’t trust myself to speak without crying, and looked away.

Mercifully, most of the ladies trailed out of the shop without trying to engage me in further conversation. A small part of me hoped that I wasn’t putting out unfriendly and unwelcoming vibes, but a larger part of me couldn’t be bothered to care.

It was all I could do not to burst into tears of anger, as my emotions battled inside me. What I really needed was to lock the door and escape upstairs to my bed.

“That was a lovely discussion, dear.”

I braced myself before I turned around and frantically scanned my brain for a way out of the discussion I knew was coming next.

“Tilley.” I turned around with a very fake smile on my face to see our town busybody, bundled up in her winter coat with a massive hand-knit scarf wrapped around her neck. I’d managed to avoid eye contact with her for most of the evening, but now I was cornered.

Her eyes twinkled. I knew exactly what she wanted to talk about.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Tilley,” I said. “I was just locking up.”

“Oh, I won’t keep you.”

Yet, that’s exactly what she was about to do. Normally, I didn’t mind spending a few minutes talking to Tilley Beckett. After all, she was a sweet old lady, and besides the fact that anything you told her would spread like a wildfire in the wind within seconds, she was generally quite harmless.

“I thought your insights on the romance in the book were quite…insightful.”

I tried not to groan.

“Almost as if you have some personal experience in the matter.”

She blinked her lashes and winked at me.

Before I could deny it, or set her straight because the gossip mill clearly hadn’t made its rounds yet about the most recent status of my relationship with Ethan, she opened her mouth again.

“Aren’t the Lyons having their family dinner tonight?”

It never ceased to amaze me the information this woman had at her fingertips.

I shrugged.

“Shouldn’t you be there, dear?”

No. I shouldn’t. Family dinners were for family. And Ethan made it very clear by his actions that I wasn’t considered that way. Not at all.

Not that I was about to tell Tilley any of that. “We’re just neighbors, Tilley.”

“Now, now.” She cut me off. “Everyone knows you and that handsome brewmaster next door are the latest hot thing. The two of you have created quite a buzz around town.”

I forced myself to keep my face expressionless.

“From what I hear, he’s quite smitten with you.”

The fact that news of our breakup hadn’t traveled to Tilley yet surprised me, but it only meant that Ethan hadn’t said anything to anyone, because I knew I hadn’t. Not even to Lauren. It was too painful to admit that I’d gotten it wrong with Ethan.

I forced a humorless laugh. “I’m not sure what people think, Tilley. But whatever it is, they’re wrong. Ethan and I?—”

“Oh.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

Shit.

I realized too late that I should have just kept my mouth shut.

Tilley tapped one finger against her lips. “I see…”

I shook my head, but didn’t have a chance to tell her that she didn’t see at all, because there was nothing to see.

“There’s trouble brewing,” she said after a moment. “Love can be tricky.”

“It’s not like?—”

“Whatever’s happened, I hope that Lyons boy is smart enough to know how to fix it.”

I blinked at the old woman in disbelief. She reached out and squeezed my arm for a moment.

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, and thankfully, Nora called to Tilley from the door, where she waited.

Tilley gave me one last look. “You, my dear, are the type of woman who deserves the grandest of grand gestures.”

My heart clenched, and I blinked hard to keep the tears at bay as she turned and swept out of the store with the rest of the group, leaving me standing there, a little bit breathless and totally heartbroken.

Sure, Tilley was missing a few details, but there was a reason she had the reputation in Trickle Creek that she did. She was spot-on.

Except for one thing. I didn’t need the grand gesture.

I only wanted to feel like I mattered.

And right now…I wasn’t so sure I did.

Ethan

The plaza was quiet by the time I left Brody’s place.

Quinn was so upset with me, she refused to talk to me. I could have pushed the issue and forced her to come home with me, but what was the point?

She was in good hands with my family, and Reid and Avery agreed to take her home with them and make sure she got to school the next morning. It seemed like the best option. Particularly considering I had a few things to work through on my own.

Quite a few.

But I still hated leaving her behind. We’d never been like this before. We’d never fought to the point where she refused to speak to me. And I couldn’t blame her. My heart ached, knowing I’d let my baby girl down.

I told myself the quiet was good. A night alone would give me a chance to think through some things. But I wasn’t ready to go back to my empty house yet, so I’d made the decision to detour to the brewery instead.

I hadn’t planned to see her.

When I rounded the corner by Earth’s Own, I stopped short and pressed up against the wall. A small group of women filtered out of Plot Twist in a burst of chatter and laughter.

Book club.

When I invited Delaney to family dinner, she said she was going to get Rochelle to lead it. But there she was, standing in the doorway, watching the women walk away.

I was pretty sure she couldn’t see me, but I stayed back anyway. I wasn’t ready to face her yet. Not when I was only just beginning to understand what exactly I’d broken.

I watched as she flipped the lock and walked back toward the front counter. She placed her hand flat on the top, and the whole thing swayed under her touch.

A breath caught in my throat, but by some miracle, it didn’t topple over. It was only a matter of time before the stupid thing collapsed altogether.

Inside the shop, the lights dimmed. Delaney left the counter, but instead of walking to the back of her shop and heading up to her apartment, she moved back to the front window.

She didn’t see me, and I felt like maybe I was intruding on a private moment when I saw her press her palm lightly against the glass. It was only for a brief moment.

But I’d seen it.

Hell, I felt it in my gut.

She was sad. She was hurt.

This thing between us wasn’t casual or small at all. It was real, and it was worth so much more than I’d been giving it.

But that changed now.

My brothers were right. Delaney wasn’t upset about the patio—although I could have been a hell of a lot more thoughtful about that, too.

It was about so much more, and it had taken me way too long to figure that out. I just hoped like hell that it wasn’t too late.

Delaney

The shop was finally quiet.

Normally, hosting book club energized me. But it had been a long day. A long week.

I should have immediately gone up to bed, but something pulled me back to the window and the deserted plaza outside. Most of the shops had small apartments above them, but usually the evenings were quiet.

With a sigh, I realized how much that would change with a patio right outside my door.

I blew out a breath, but the flash of anger I might have expected never came. It was hard to be angry when I was so damn sad at everything I’d lost.

I pressed a hand to the window and just for a moment allowed myself to hope that Ethan was outside and that he’d be walking across the plaza to my shop. That he would knock on my door and…say something. Fix this thing that was broken.

But there was nothing but emptiness outside. A moment was all I could afford to allow myself.

I stepped away from the window and turned to survey the shop.

My shop.

My dream I’d built from the ground up. I’d scrimped and saved and sacrificed for Plot Twist. No, it wasn’t perfect, and all the couches and chairs might be second-hand, the pillows collected from thrift stores.

The shelves full of inventory that I’d personally sourced and selected.

The tables with indie authors I’d read and recommended myself.

Every day was hard. Balancing the books that sometimes didn’t want to add up no matter what I did wasn’t easy, but it was mine.

I’d already lost a dream to a man who made promises he couldn’t keep and, when I wasn’t looking, made all the important decisions without me.

I wouldn’t do it again.

I couldn’t.

No matter how much my heart longed for him.