The air is cool against my face despite the late-morning sun. I tug the fabric around me a little tighter and head down the sidewalk, figuring the exercise might do me some good.

“I’m back,” Claire says. “If I wouldn’t have called you, no one would’ve needed a darn thing. I call you and—voilà!—people need coffee. I don’t get it.”

“Well, you are at work. It’s not hard to believe people want coffee.”

“You know what I mean.” She groans. “Anyway, hair tie—you bringing me one or not?”

“You know I’m bringing you one. I’m already out the door.”

“This is why I love you more than other people. You never fail.”

“That’s my purpose in life: never fail Claire.”

“Attagirl.” She laughs into the line. “Guess who came in this morning.”

I wave at the neighbor man watching his dog pee in his front lawn. My lips twist in a smile because I know who she’s talking about, but I’m not about to tell her that. “No clue.”

She giggles. “Seems as though Trevor stayed in town last night.”

The sound of his name splashes me with a warmth I can’t explain. The coat suddenly is too hot.

I force myself to steady. “Oh.”

“Why do I feel like this doesn’t surprise you?”

“Because it doesn’t,” I say as offhandedly as I can muster.

“Because . . .”

“Because he might’ve mentioned that he needed to stay a few days until the house is solid,” I say.

She sighs dreamily. “You should’ve seen him. He was adorable, Haley. He sat with Lorene. I overheard them talking about him staying at the inn. And if my eavesdropping skills are as good as I think they are, he did some projects for her this morning.”

I imagine Trevor on a ladder, hanging a wreath on the inn’s door, and little ninety-year-old Lorene watching him. It’s a vision that’s sweet and sexy, and it makes my insides go squishy.

“I bet Lorene is smitten,” I say.

“Oh, she is. She kept patting his hand and telling him he was a good boy.” Claire laughs.

I cross the street in front of the church with the musket balls from the Civil War lodged in the steeple. Across the street sits the post office, and next to it, Buds and Branches. Baskets of wine-colored mums line the steps leading into the flower shop.

My stride falters as I realize I have walked right to the shop and didn’t even realize it.

“So what are you doing today, anyway?” Claire asks.

“Job hunting.”

“You sound way too happy to be job hunting.”

“Well, I guess I kind of am. Might be fun.”

“What kind of thing are you considering?” she asks.

I look at the beautiful window of Buds and Branches, but something swishes in my stomach. It’s as if I say it out loud, I’ll jinx myself. “I’m thinking about being a chef.”

“You can’t cook.”

I shrug. “Well, I’m not sure I’m actually qualified for anything at the moment, but I’ll figure it out. I’m creating my best life over here. A little support would go a long way.”

“I’m supportive,” she protests. “I just want to make sure your best life is well rounded. And realistic.” She pauses. “Nix the chef thing, Haley. Trust me on this.”

I step around a broken piece of sidewalk. “You are kind of mean, you know that?”

“It was kind of mean to almost kill me with food poisoning too.”

“There was a recall on spinach. That’s not my fault. Furthermore,” I say, “let’s take a moment to realize no one has died of food poisoning from candy.”

“Which is not food, which means you shouldn’t be a chef. Case closed.”

“Look,” I say. “I didn’t say I was sold on it. I said I’m looking at my options. Opening my mind to new possibilities.”

The line muffles before Claire comes back. “A couple just walked in. Are you almost here?”

“Yes,” I say, waving at my friend Jennifer, the owner of Buds and Branches, through the window. “But I’m going to say hi to Jennifer first, if that’s okay.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

I grin. “Right. I’ll see you in a few. I need to drop off Trevor’s jacket, anyway.”

A not-so-subtle gasp shoots through the line. I imagine Claire’s eyes going wide, her jaw hanging open. It makes me chuckle.

“Whoa, hold up. Did you just say you have Trevor’s jacket?” she asks. “You have his clothes? Haley!”

“Relax.” I laugh. “I borrowed it last night. It’s fine.”

“You were with him last night? Forget about you firing me from being your friend. If you are holding out, we’re done here.” She gasps again, this time for effect. “Spill it. And do it quick because some of the customers are staring at me and it’s getting awkward.”

“Oh, my gosh, Claire. Go to work.”

“No. Not until you tell me what’s up.”

“I ran into him at Graber’s last night and we got to talking in the parking lot and he let me borrow his jacket. It’s no big deal.”

Tags: Adriana Locke Dogwood Lane Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net