Page 54 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

“Are you looking for an annual or a perennial?”

That sounded like a question she should know the answer to but didn’t. Looking the salesgirl in the eye, Rebecca North replied, “Annual?”

“Sounds like you’re not certain.”

How she hated being clueless.

“You’re right. I don’t know. An annual sounds like something I should make an appointment for with my doctor.”

The young girl laughed.

“Well, you are sort of on the right track. You go to your doctor once a year, right? That’s annually. So, a plant that is an annual only comes up once.”

“Once a year?”

“No. Once.”

“Sounds like it should be once a year.”

“That’s a perennial.”

“Huh?”

“It comes up and keeps coming up year after year.”

“Oh.”

Confusing. But sounded like what she needed to get her mother for her birthday. Something that kept coming back. The gift that kept on giving.

“That’s what I want then.”

Turning, the girl pointed to the left of the nursery. This was the first time Becca had been to Haven’s Hill Nursery at Falls Lake. She knew her mother loved the place—she was always talking about ‘running out to Haven’s Hill’ so Becca felt like she could find something here to please her. Her mother also talked about the two local brothers who owned the place and how she adored them both. Haven’s Hill was the horticulture side of the business, where they grew and sold plants and all that entails—you know, like soil, fertilizer, gardening tools, and such. Falls Lake Landscaping was, well, the landscaping wing. She wondered if each of the brothers specialized in one side or the other. Shrugging, she glanced around the place, wondering where those brothers were about now.

Becca knew nothing about plants. She knew books.

“The perennials are all back there,”

the girl finally said.

“next to the trees and shrubbery.”

“Which would also be perennial?”

She grimaced.

“I suppose you could say that.”

Maybe she should get her mother a tree. You can plant trees in the spring, right? Glancing back to the girl, who had now disappeared, she sighed. She’d ask questions later. Right now, perhaps the best thing she could do was act as if she knew what she was doing, and wander about finger plant leaves or something.

She had to get a gift today. Her mother’s birthday shindig was tonight.

Thing was, she had no clue where to start. Becca was a bookworm, not a gardener. Her mother had always had such a nicely landscaped lawn, with flowers and beautiful plants everywhere. Becca’s tiny, second-story apartment in a Victorian in Old Harbor Falls afforded her space only for a houseplant or two—both gifts from her mother. She was lucky to keep those babies alive.

She wandered the aisles of green, stopped occasionally to fidget with a feathery frond or bend to read the plant names on plastic tabs, only to realize that she still hadn’t a clue what she was doing.

About the time she was ready to head out, having decided that perhaps yet again she’d get her mother a book she wouldn’t read instead—at least Becca knew books!—she turned to find herself crowded up against a strong, male chest. A chest that wasn’t budging.

“Help you find something?”

the chest said.

Becca swallowed hard.

Well, actually, it wasn’t the chest that spoke, but the mouth attached to the face above the chest. However, somehow, Becca’s hands had ended up splayed flat on that chest and she could feel a quiet thump-thump-thump of what must have been his heartbeat against her palms. At once, her own heart echoed that thump-thump-thump, and she worried that it was beating so loudly, that the chest, er, man in front of her, would hear it.

This all happened in like 1.2 seconds.

Her gaze slowly lifted, and she met twinkling, hazel eyes.

“Annual,”

she said.

“Uh. I mean perennial.”

“Hm. Maybe I can help.”

“Plant.”

He chuckled.

“Excuse me?”

“Need a plant. For my mother. Birthday.”

What the hell had happened to her speaking ability?

He half-grinned.

“I’m sure we can find something.”

He backed away and Becca finally breathed. Her arms dropped lazily to her sides. He took a few steps to his left and she watched his T-shirted, tight-jeaned body twist and bend—did she really cock her head to the side watching as he did so?—and come up with a nice looking flat of colorful flowers.

“Pretty.”

She wasn’t talking about the blooms.

“Thanks.”

“What are they?”

“Pansies. They’re hardy.”

Hardy. Sounded like another term she didn’t know the definition of. “Oh.”

“Yes. They’ll come back again in the spring.”

Are you hardy? Will you come back again in the spring?

Becca shook herself. He was a man. A pretty man, nonetheless, and she had had her fill of pretty men of late. All men. In her world, men didn’t come back in the spring, or after the third date, or call the next morning after… Well, it wasn’t that bad, but she didn’t want to think about men right now. This specimen, however, was, ah, intriguing. Even though he looked to be at least a dozen years her senior. Why he would spark her interest, sort of, she didn’t know. And why would she expect he might be interested in a barely out of college bookworm?

Where the hell was this line of thought leading her anyway?

She didn’t know. And he’d given her no indication, really, that he was interested. Just tossed her a half-grin and offered up a peek at his tight buttocks. Perhaps he flirts with all his customers. He had flirted, hadn’t he?

Perhaps he was just a nice older man.

Somehow, she didn’t think he would like being referred to as an older man.

He sat the flat down on a wooden counter, lifted one plant from the tray, and held it toward her.

“Here. Take a look.”

Her hands went out. She took the plant and his big hands covered hers. Warmth raced from her knuckles to her face.

Good Lord am I blushing?

Swallowing hard, she looked again into his eyes, noted a shock of dark brown hair hanging over the right one, and registered the roguish grin on his face.

“You know a lot about flowers,”

she told him.

“I should. I own this place.”

Her brow arched. Ah, a brother. Well there you go. No wonder her mother loved this place.

“Oh? Congratulations. Nice place. My mother comes here often.”

“Your mother has good taste.”

“She knows plants.”

“Maybe I know her.”

Well shit. Probably.

“Um, maybe. Trudy North?”

The brother threw back his head and laughed.

“Trudy? Well yes! She’s a regular. Love her dearly.”

Becca didn’t understand his laughter.

“Why is that funny?”

The humor on his face melted into something half-serious.

“No worries. Just struck me as funny that a woman like Trudy has a daughter who is clueless about gardening. Trudy is a master.”

Trudy North was good at all kinds of things, especially gardening. “True.”

She lifted her chin.

“I am an anomaly in the family. My dad was a farmer. My mother loves dirt under her fingernails. I, on the other hand…”

Becca glanced down at her acrylic nails. His hands were still cupping hers. He said.

“Somehow that interest didn’t get passed along to you, did it?”

Becca shook her head.

“I know books. English major. I don’t know plants.”

“I can teach you.”

His balmy smile lit up his face again melted something in her chest.

“That is, if you are interested.”

Interested? In what, plants? Him? What was happening here? She didn’t do this sort of thing. Well, not true, lately…. “Oh.”

Shifting his stance, he stepped closer.

“How about this? You can teach me about books. I can teach you about plants. Sounds like a date. How about tomorrow night?”

Shit. Shit! What a flirt. Date? Tomorrow? What would her mother think? Hell, her mother would love it if she dated one of the Haven’s Hill brothers.

Suddenly The Vow hit her and she’d be damned if she’d back out on it. If anything, it was a good excuse to ditch his date offer. She’d promised her best friend, Nora, and by God, she was sticking to her vow because she wanted Nora to stick to her vow. Becca had to set a good example.

They were off men. Too many miscues and too much heartache. Men were the culprit, they had decided, and so with sister bonds and over appetizers and martinis they had made the pact. Stated the vow. Swearing off men from here to eternity.

Nora had pledged. Becca was going to hold her to it.

Nora had been hurt one too many times by pretty men who promised lots and took away even more. Nora needed a break. And Becca? Even if she had to sacrifice the one promising flirty encounter she’d had in weeks in the process, was going to stick to her guns.

There. She could do this.

His fingers clasped her hands a little tighter and he traced small circles over her knuckles. Oh, please don’t do that...

She wriggled one hand away and fiddled with the little plastic thingy sticking in the pot.

“I’m sure I can read this and figure out what to do with them, and I, um, have plans for Saturday. Sorry.”

The guy frowned then and dropped his hands.

“Of course.”

Perhaps that was too blunt.

He grinned then.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying. Right?”

Becca ignored that.

“I’ll just get these,”

she said, uncertain whether her mother would like them, or not.

“I’ll carry them to the front checkout for you.”

Without a second’s hesitation, he took the small pot from her hand and added it to the flat. She watched from behind as he carried her purchase to the cash register.

Sigh. Yes. Nice butt.

But she was off men. Even men with nice butts.

She had no clue what to do with hardy pansies and hoped her mother did.

The cute owner spoke briefly to the salesgirl—the one who had pointed her to the perennials moments earlier—and then nodded to her with an obligatory smile and a nod. The flirty guy was gone. Her heart sank.

Well, what did she expect? He had come on rather strong there at the end. What the heck did he expect? She wasn’t a floosy, after all. Well, usually. That unexpected one-night stand a couple of weeks ago notwithstanding. But her online-match date was nice, and interested in her it seemed, and they’d had a great time at the concert, and then the wham-bam in his car….

Then whoosh. Nothing.

Dropped her off and drove away.

No call. No text. No nothing.

She rolled her eyes. Men. Of course, this was partly her fault.

But no matter. All’s well that ends well. This temptation was over, and she had maintained the integrity of The Vow. Disaster averted.

****

The next day, Sam Ackerman angled his shovel at the ground, gave it a hefty thrust, and then kicked the back of it pushing the blade deep into the soil. It wasn’t that he was frustrated, but there was no doubt he was tired. Suzie Hart rattled on behind him.

“No, no,”

she said.

“I was thinking of moving the hostas over there. The sun eats them up like crazy on this side of the house. I think they need more shade.”

That’s what I told you when we planted them there.

Thank goodness, they had worked in some sand and topsoil to the hard-packed clay soil around Suzie’s house last year—an excellent decision on his and his brother’s part—or the job would have been a lot more difficult. And thank God the hostas were young, just a few months in the ground and not yet established. Easier to move to the other side of the house.

Where I wanted to put them last year.

“Sam, thank you for being tolerant with me.”

Grinning at the ground, he raised his face to meet Suzie’s infectious smile.

“No problem, darlin’.”

She caught his gaze.

“I know sometimes I’m a pain in the ass,”

she said.

“And you know that if I could get all of this done myself, I would do it. It’s just that I’ve been so crazy busy the past months and I’ve let the landscaping and gardening slip. Once we get it spruced up, and I get this book tour out of the way, I’ll be ready to settle back in and keep things up. You know how I love the place to look in the spring.”

“And in the summer, fall, winter…”

He did indeed. Sweet Hart Inn was Suzie’s baby and he was happy to be her landscaper. His heart warmed and any annoying thoughts about moving the hostas dissipated. Childhood friends since elementary school, he could never be mad at her for long.

“Hey, that’s what you pay Jack and me for. To do the things you can’t get to, honey.”

A corner of her mouth turned up.

“You guys know what I want and how I want it to look.”

Obviously. And we were right about the hostas.

“Besides, you’re the best.”

She reached out and laid a hand on his forearm.

“I wouldn’t have anyone but Haven’s Hill landscape my property. Oh, hey, and I mentioned you all in my blog the other day. I hope it brings you some more local business.”

Well, that was mighty sweet of her. Now, it was time to get back to moving the plants, pruning back a few trees and bushes, and readying the beds for winter.

“Well, hon, that’s exactly what we aim to do, please our friends and customers.”

Again, Suzie smiled.

“You’re a godsend.”

Glancing about, she added.

“Wow, I really did add to your workload here today, didn’t I? And it’s getting late. Were you planning to finish today, or can you come back tomorrow?”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly five.”

“Oh.”

He’d lost track of the time. Sam kicked the shovel into the ground again and pulled back on the handle to loosen the soil around the root ball. Glancing up, he surveyed the clear blue sky behind her head.

“I think we’re safe to put the rest of this off until tomorrow if okay with you. Weather is supposed to be good another day.”

“Fine with me.”

She reached for a basket sitting at her feet.

“Got a date tonight? It is Saturday.”

“Hell no.” Date. No.

Suzie laid a hand on his arm.

“Sam Ackerman, it’s Saturday night! Go out and find a girl and have some fun!”

“No, thanks. I’m looking forward to a cold beer on your deck and looking out over the lake, followed by a slow drive home, a nice hot shower when I get there, and an early bedtime.”

“Sam, that makes me so sad.”

Funny, it didn’t make him sad at all. Women weren’t in the cards right now and it was okay. Hell, even the innocent flirting he’d done yesterday with the one woman who had stepped into his nursery that had stirred a bit of interest, or something, in him, had gotten him shot down. Thing was, he was probably coming on a little stronger than he normally would have, but the sassy little minx had caught his eye and just wouldn’t let go.

Truth be known, he was still thinking about her.

Smiling, he grasped her hand.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly happy with my mundane, solitary life. I’m too damned busy right now to add a woman to it. Maybe down the road some.”

“I just hate it that you and Carol Jean broke up.”

“It’s okay, Suzie. These things happen.”

She sighed.

“Well. Just as long as you haven’t given up on women altogether.”

“No ma’am.”

Well, he hoped, anyway. He and Carol Jean had ended a few months ago and he had to admit, he’d felt like giving up on love when it had. He’d loved her—he thought anyway—until he’d overheard her talking to a girlfriend at local BBQ cookout and realized the woman had been lying to him for a while and she didn’t know how to tell him the truth about something. Yeah, one lie and then another and before he knew it, she was not the woman he thought she was. He broke it off. She cried. He vowed he wasn’t going there again anytime soon.

In reality, and with hindsight, they both realized it was for the best. It never would have worked. He just wished she would have come clean sooner and hadn’t wasted both of their time.

“Just waiting for the right woman, Suzie.”

“Good. Well, just don’t wait too long. And if she doesn’t come along, then let me know. I’ll fix you up, Sam. They are calling me The Matchmaking Chef these days, you know?”

He snorted. He had heard that. Might as well go with it and change the subject.

“Okay, Suze. Hey look, we’ll be back tomorrow, sometime after church, all right?”

“Sure.”

She fiddled with some tools in the basket.

“I have a book signing at two in town at the bookstore so will be gone for a while—oh, from about noon until six or so, I think. Brad and Petey will be with me but you know where we keep everything. The shed will be unlocked if you need anything.”

“Sounds good.”

“I hate to make you work on a Sunday.”

He grinned.

“Suzie, you know I’d be working somewhere, anyway. I love what I do. And besides, it’s supposed to rain Monday.”

She nodded.

“I do know you love your job. Didn’t know about the rain. Bummer.”

“No problem, Suzie.”

He watched her stroll down the length of her house inspecting the plants. Truth was, plants and landscaping were his passion. He’d not wanted to do anything else since he was a kid growing up on his parents’ farm. Biggest reason he’d gone to college was to major in Agriculture, then quite by surprise, he found his way into a horticulture class which opened up another whole world for him. What surprised him most was that his younger brother, Jack, had followed in his footsteps. Haven’s Hill Nursery at Falls Lake was ten years old and prospering, largely because he and Jack did a lot of the grunt work, alongside his crews. Hey, it kept him fit and tan, and he’d heard the girls liked that.

Girls. He was thirty-five. Women, not girls. But just where were all the available women in Harbor Falls? The ones who didn’t come with baggage or lied?

Nowhere.

Hell, he was probably going to have baggage himself over that last woman.

The blonde from yesterday, though, was young and he didn’t know her. Was she from Harbor Falls? From somewhere else? He was old and she was too young for him. Maybe she was still in college yet even. Hell, that’s why he didn’t know her she was practically from another generation.

Where the hell was his head? She probably thought him a dirty old man. Shit.

“So, we’re moving the hostas?”

Sam swiped his brow. Jack had joined him, and Suzie was now ambling off toward her wildflower garden with a pair of scissors in one hand and her basket in the other.

“Could have predicted that.”

Jack chuckled.

“Here. Let’s get this done. Maybe we can con her into a cold one on her deck before we leave.”

“I was counting on that.”

Both men started digging.

****

Becca grimaced and twitched her nose. A smoky smell wafted up from the canister of, um, were those supposed to be chocolate chip cookies? Without a sound, she replaced the metal lid, turned away, and sighed.

“I so wanted a chocolate chip cookie,”

she muttered, then reached to straighten the counter area around her. Bookmarks. Sales fliers. A tabletop cardboard display of Jed McDermott’s latest paperback release.

“But not one of those burnt things. Definitely, not one of those.”

She shook herself a little and eased out behind the counter, straightening a nearby end cap.

“Face out,”

she said as she turned several copies of her favorite suspense author, Brit Calloway’s latest, Born to Run, out to show the cover. “Face in,”

she echoed, feeling only semi-bad about turning an unknown author’s books around, making them disappear into the fold.

“Slow. Ass. Day.”

She liked working at the bookstore. Truly she did. But she looked forward to the day she could put her degree to good use in a slightly different manner. Perhaps writing ad copy for an advertising firm. Or maybe even working her way into a position as a journalist in a small newspaper. Something fast-paced and edgy. Often her days at the bookstore were too long and slow—but no matter, tomorrow was going to be a doozey.

Behind her, the hard click of heels tatting across the tile floor met her ear. She’d know that walk anywhere.

“Hi, Nora.”

“Hey.”

A tired-sounding whoosh and a scrape of metal against metal came next. Becca rotated back toward the counter and found her childhood best friend, former college roommate, and owner of Nora’s Novel Niche, leaning a hip against the counter and nibbling a burnt cookie.

“Good party for your mom last night, Bec.”

“It was okay.”

She’d never again buy plants for her mother. How could she have known that her mother already planted dozens of pansies the day before? And icing on the cake, she’d been bothered all evening by the fact that she’d been too abrupt with Mr. Gardener Man back at the nursery. Even though it was for the best. She sure hoped her mother didn’t get wind of it, being that Haven’s Hill was her favorite nursery and all. So far today she had kept her distraction to a minimum, but for some odd reason those hazel eyes of his kept sneaking back into her consciousness.

“Ready for tomorrow?”

Changing the subject was always an option.

A wrinkle waved over Nora’s forehead.

“Something wrong?”

“Worried as hell about the book signing.”

“As long as you don’t serve those cookies, things will go fine.”

“What?”

“Seriously, you’ve seen to every detail. I can’t imagine what could go wrong.”

Nora pulled the cookie away from her mouth and looked at it.

“Wow. I thought these were pretty darned good. Baked them late last night. I love a crisp cookie.”

Frowning, Becca shivered again. Those gems were beyond crisp.

“I prefer chewy.”

“To each their own.”

“Just like men, huh?”

Nora sputtered and crumbs flew.

“That’s not a subject I want to get into today.”

Still chewing, she tossed the remainder of her cookie into a wastebasket under the counter and snapped the lid back on the can. “Men,”

she continued.

“are the furthest thing from my mind. Men, are like, off my ‘to do’ list. Men, are pretty much non-existent in my book. In fact,”

she glanced around.

“the word man is not even in my vocabulary anymore.”

Becca didn’t want to get into the subject either, especially since her encounter from yesterday lingered on her mind. She’d not had a serious boyfriend in ages—not since her college days—and truth be told, she really didn’t care if she had one for some time. Oh, she dated occasionally and had tried out the matching sites, but generally those didn’t end well. Besides, men just seemed to complicate her life. They screwed with her head and made her think and do things she normally wouldn’t do.

Like with Concert Dude. What had gotten into her?

He was cute. Sexy. Smiled at her a lot. And she’d been enamored. So, she’d caved and well, now she regretted it.

That thought affirmed her bluntness with Mr. Gardener Man—although she didn’t think he was anything like Concert Dude.

Nora didn’t feel the same about men though. Nora really, really wanted a man in her life. Her career was set, her father having left the bookstore to her when he had retired. Now, she was all about the happily-ever-after. You know, searching for it, finding the man of her dreams, settling down with kids and dogs and a picket fence. Heck, the romance section was the largest genre section in the bookstore! Thing was, romance always seemed to elude Nora, no matter how hard she tried.

And she tried hard. Believe you, me.

But she needed a pause after her last breakup, and so, yes, they’d vowed the other evening over martinis and fried calamari that they were off men. For a while. Becca silently bet that she could outlast Nora with that vow.

Because Nora was always looking. It was instinctual.

Becca, on the other hand, had convinced herself lately that she’d rather stay home and watch a movie or read a book alone, than invite some man into her life who would upset her perfect little apple cart life. Because that, indeed, had happened to her while in college—and she wondered why she occasionally risked getting into that kind of scenario again. Her sweetheart had literally taken over her life for most of their college years—until they graduated, and he found a nice busty blonde in graduate school that met his needs a little more fully.

And that was exactly what he had told Becca. She didn’t meet his needs anymore.

Asshole.

Talk about a blow to the ego. But no matter. She was better off. Without a man in her life, she was in control. But this was about Nora, not Becca. Nora, bless her heart, was constantly on the search.

“Men are not in my vocabulary either,”

she told her friend.

Nora smirked and began shuffling things around on the counter—the very things that Becca had just straightened moments earlier. Nervous. She could tell with that tic of Nora’s lip and the twitch of her hands as they fidgeted over the items like nobody’s business. After all, they’d been best friends since high school and lived together in the dorm for four years after that.

To say they knew each other well was an understatement.

Nora’s jumpiness was probably what kept her so damned thin. Becca gave her friend the once-over. In fact, Nora appeared more thin than normal. She always lost weight when something was preying on her mind. Becca envied her of that fact. She, herself, always grew a little pudgy around the middle when she was stressed. But Nora was always beautiful. Beautiful blond hair, blue-eyed, thin, and long legs to die for.

Becca was the exact opposite in most every respect.

While she was also blond, hers was dirtier and darker. Her green eyes were unique but her pale complexion with freckles clearly gave away her Irish heritage. Which wasn’t a bad thing either. She was short—her five-foot-two frame was supported by the thighs of a gymnast. Came from all of that bicycling she did as a kid, she guessed. And hardy—if she could use a term often used for plants—she was probably that. German stock on her Grandmother’s side. Irish on her grandfather’s. Oh, she supposed she was okay to look at on a good day, but Nora was always the one who caught the attention of the boys when they were in school.

Or later, men, at a bar.

Or in the mall.

Or at any-sort-of-social-event-that-the-two-of-them-would-go-to-together.

Nora was always the main course. Becca was the side dish.

Sigh.

Therefore, it wasn’t that Nora was homely or anything, that put men off. Quite the opposite. If Becca had to define it, she’d be pressed to say that perhaps Nora was a mite too eager. It sent a lot of men running for the hills, um, mountains. Nora often didn’t realize how she came off until the next best relationship fell through and she was crying in her martini not understanding where it went wrong.

It was an ugly cycle Becca had hoped to get her best friend out of, but to no avail. Honestly, picking up after Nora’s disaster-of-a-love life left her very little time to concentrate on one of her own, which she didn’t want anyway.

What a convoluted mess!

About then, the front door opened with a chime and they turned toward the sound. Becca watched Nora’s profile as she took in the tall, dark-headed, and oh-so-handsome stranger who sauntered in. Immediately, her chin lifted, her back straightened, and a hand fluttered to her chest. She swallowed and cocked her head to one side. Looking.

Becca stepped up beside her and whispered.

“He doesn’t exist. Not in your vocabulary.”

“Dammit.”

“You need a man like you need a hole in the head.”

“Keep reminding me.”

Her stare never left the man, who had shifted toward the Business section. From their vantage point, they had a good look at his backside.

Becca bent her head in the same direction as Nora’s. Together, both women sighed. “Nice...”

“Agreed.”

The man twisted and looked at the women. They immediately shifted and fiddled with things on the counter.

“We’re off men,”

Becca said a little louder, removing the cookie tin from the counter and stashing it underneath.

“Ditto.”

Nora started rearranging the counter-top display again.

“Let’s think about something else.”

“What about the book signing tomorrow? Anything I can help with?”

Nora exhaled as if she had been holding that breath for days.

Becca noticed the worry lines etching deeper across her friend’s forehead again. There, that got her mind off the man.

“I think all is ready,”

she said.

“I didn’t realize this was going to be such a big deal! I had no clue that this woman from Harbor Falls had developed this big following. The television people are going to be here from Asheville and the author’s New York publicist, and we had to order more books yesterday. I hope they get here in time. Had them overnighted, which cost me a bundle so I sure as hell hope they sell. People will start lining up early, I assume.”

She drummed her fingers on the counter and looked Becca straight in the eyes.

“Just keep me sane, Becca. This could be the best thing to hit my bookstore ever. With the current economy, we need the business and the promotional opportunity. Oh, God! I’m so excited!”

“Ahem.”

Becca pulled her gaze away from Nora’s animated face to look at the man from the Business section, who was now standing at the register holding a book on project management.

“Good afternoon, sir,”

she said.

“Thank you for shopping at Nora’s!”

Taking the book from him, Becca scanned his purchase while he thoroughly scanned Nora. See? Their eyes always went straight to Nora—who was now preening like a peacock.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know about Suzie Hart,”

she said to Nora while nudging her side, and changing the subject.

“She’s been a local sensation for a while. Haven’t you ever had breakfast at her Inn?”

Nora didn’t answer. Becca finished ringing up the sale and put the book in a paper bag. She glanced to Nora who was smiling at the man and twiddling a lock of hair with her thumb and forefinger.

Becca nudged her again.

Nora turned. “What?”

She whispered the reminder.

“Not in your vocabulary.”

“My wife loves Suzie Hart,”

the man interjected.

“She’s been taking her cooking classes lately and we’ve not missed one of her Summer Sunrise Breakfasts the past three years.”

He smiled at the two.

“She will be here with bells on tomorrow, I’m sure.”

Becca smiled and handed him his purchase.

“That’s great news. We look forward to seeing her! Be sure to tell her to say hello.”

“Right,”

Nora replied. Untwiddling her hair from her fingers, she dropped her hand, and then gave Becca a half-hearted smile and a shrug. “Right.”

Becca sighed. Maintaining the vow was going to be hard work.