Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

ety since I was the founder’s descendant, and the majority of folks in my town were wonderful.

However, it wasn’t the first time I’d had to suffer through the downside of small-town life. During the past two weeks I’d had to put up with people making trips to the inn to offer me their sympathy but also to try to find out for themselves if the rumor that I found Tom screwing a younger woman in his apartment was true. I almost called a town meeting at the bandstand to give them a step-by-step account of what happened just so the nosy bastards would leave me alone. However, Jessica talked me out of it.

It was hard enough getting over a breakup, and coming to terms with the realization that I was actually okay with the breakup, when there were a ton of people around to tell me I couldn’t possibly be okay since I was a victim.

But I was okay! I was not a victim.

Only Jess and my boardwalk buddies seemed to believe me.

Iris had said, “You getting rid of him didn’t surprise me. Just sorry it took you this long.”

Thanks, Iris.

Emery was surprised but once I explained what had been going on she believed me when I said I was fine. Jess was glad I was moving on with my life in the hopes of meeting someone I deserved. Dahlia had always liked Tom but she was mad at him for cheating on me and understood why I didn’t want to give him another shot.

How was I feeling other than okay?

Guilty. I felt guilty because I didn’t feel as bad as I should. I missed my friend but I didn’t miss my lover. And worse, I realized that things had become so complacent and distant between us that I’d actually been missing my friend for a really long time, so the missing him part wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be.

In fact, I felt like this huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

Of course that weight had been replaced by the weight of crippling fear that I would end up alone, unmarried, and childless for the rest of my life.

“I’m considering online dating,” I announced.

Cooper looked up from making two Long Island iced teas and a club soda but refrained from responding.

He left that to Jess and Dahlia, who had joined me for my first night out as a single woman. Unfortunately, we couldn’t coax Emery to join us just yet but I was working on it. One day she’d be sitting that cute butt of hers on a stool next to me.

Jess shared a look with Cooper. “Well, if you think you’re ready to start dating.”

Dahlia grinned. “Of course she’s ready. Internet dating is fun, FYI.”

“That’s not the whole story.” Jess smirked. “You have told us some pretty hairy tales of your online dating life, Dahlia McGuire.”

I chuckled as Dahlia shrugged, laughing. “Either you go out on a date and it’s fun, or you go out on a date that is so epically horrifying it becomes an entertaining story to tell your friends. Either way it’s a win-win.”

I laughed along with them, but I was a little nervous about the whole thing. Not just because Dahlia really had been on dates worthy of episodes of Sex and the City, but because I hadn’t dated in so long. Yeah, I was a pretty outgoing person and I had never suffered from shyness, but I was worried I was a little rusty.

Unlike Dahlia, I had no idea what the landscape was like out there now, and I didn’t want to end up going through hundreds of men.

Dahlia didn’t mind that aspect of it. In fact, she preferred it. If ever there was a woman who feared commitment more, I had yet to meet her. It surprised me because she was such a warm, protective, thoughtful, loving person. Any man would be lucky to have her, and I’d known men over the years who had tried and failed to pin her down, to make her theirs.

I didn’t see any guy succeeding in the future, either.

Well maybe one particular guy, but that was a long shot.

Like Jessica when she arrived in Hartwell, I’d recognized the emptiness in Dahlia—the sad loneliness inside of her that I was amazed no one else seemed to see. I’d tried to befriend her in her first week as the owner of the gift store her great-aunt had once owned, but Dahlia had wanted nothing to do with me. Then one night I’d been putting out the trash and I saw her stumbling down the beach with a bottle of gin in her hand. To my horror I’d watched as she dove right into the water for a swim. By the time I got to her she was drowning, but I was trained in first aid and managed to resuscitate her.

That night after a trip to the emergency room she’d told me her story, and my heart had broken for her. I’d made a vow to help her start fresh in Hartwell. And she did. She’d stopped drinking, she started seeing a therapist, and she eventually started dating. However, she’d never been in a relationship and she didn’t want one, to the despair of the men around us who drooled over her Marilyn Monroe figure, luscious thick dark hair, and gorgeous blue eyes.

What neither Jess nor Dahlia realized was how similar the pain they shared was. They hadn’t told one another their stories yet, and it wasn’t up to me to share. I was impatient for them to do so though, because I thought that maybe they could find solace in one another. A comfort that, try as I might, I was unable to give them.

“Where did you go?” Dahlia waved a hand in front of my face, yanking me from my musings. “You’re not really worried about online dating, are you?”

“A little,” I admitted. “I haven’t dated in a while.”

“Bailey.” She gave a huff of laughter. “You are the most sociable, confident, outgoing woman I know. You’ll be fine.”