“Five.”
“Right. Shit.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So, let me get this straight.” Anders crossed his arms and leaned back against the makeshift table. “You think thatafter everything you two have been through, after how you’ve reconnected these past few weeks, that Juliette is just going to pack up and leave for California?”
“I mean, she’s not the type of girl who doesn’t follow through with her word.”
Anders snorted in disbelief.
“What?” Brock countered, his frustration mounting. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
“Alright. Fine.” Anders looked up to the ceiling, something he often did when trying to gather his thoughts. “I think you and Juliette are good for each other, like the real deal. I knew it since the first time I saw the two of you together at the house.”
“But,” Anders continued before Brock could interrupt, “if you give up on her that easily, if you quit on her, you’re stupider than I thought.”
“You think I’m stupid?” Brock feigned being insulted.
“Most days.” Anders grinned, but as quickly as his face lit up, it vanished just as fast. “Seriously, man. If you let her go again without a fight, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Trust me.”
Shadows crept into Anders’s eyes, a darkness Brock hadn’t seen before, something like remorse. Unsettled by the abrupt change in his friend’s mood, Brock searched his face. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?”
“Another day, man.” Anders brushed off his concern by checking his watch. “If she’s actually leaving town, you’re running out of time.”
“Right.” Brock pulled on his coat and fished his truck keys out of his pocket. “Thanks, man. I needed that.”
Anders offered him a mock salute, then crouched down to continue the cabinet installation.
A second later, Brock was out the door. He had to find Juliette and apologize. And he would convince her to stay in Mystic Cove. She didn’t belong in California. She belonged here,with him. Because he had to tell her he loved her. That he’d always loved her.
He couldn’t let her leave. Not again. Not now. Not ever.
CHAPTER 27
When Juliette arrived at Gigi’s house, a deep sense of apprehension came over her. Or perhaps it was unresolved childhood trauma. She couldn’t be sure.
She pulled into the driveway, mesmerized by the fact that nothing had changed at all. The house was older, with a brick chimney and a wraparound porch. The slate-blue siding was weathered from the salty air despite being set farther back from the beach. The shutters were still the faintest shade of lavender, and the front yard was outlined with a worn, white picket fence.
Her mother’s car was parked out front, so Juliette parked and climbed the few steps to the porch. Again, she was torn between knocking like a stranger or waltzing into the house she grew up in. The sun, whose warm rays were blocked by a wall of gray clouds, was sinking toward the west, and with it, the temperature was dropping. She buried herself in her winter coat and waited.
No answer.
Juliette tried the doorknob, just to check. Unlocked, it twisted, so she let herself in.
A wave of nostalgia slammed into her. Her home was exactly how she remembered. It was full of rich textures, gold finishings, and glamorous furnishings. Her mother’s style had remained the same through the years, every room filled with jewel-toned chairs, rugs, and chic decor. It was exceptionally French, just like Gigi.
“Mama?” Juliette called out.
Something delicious was baking in the oven, and the mouthwatering scent of croissants wafted toward her. She followed it to the kitchen, breathing in all the comforts she’d gone without for so long. Moving slowly through the space, she took in all the memories. Evenings when they would bake cookies together, and it was Juliette’s job to add the chocolate chips. Stories and laughter they would share while snacking on scones and sipping espresso.
But gradually those happy moments bled into the ones she didn’t like to remember. The death of her father had cast unshakable shadows upon their home. Or the years when Gigi had thrown herself into the flower shop and worked from sunup until sundown, and Gabi stepped in to take care of them all.
Those were the times Juliette didn’t care for, the times when Gigi stopped being a mother completely. She’d gone from happy homemaker to savvy businesswoman overnight. She’d abandoned her post as a parent. She sidelined her children for her dreams. Not that there was anything wrong with having goals to pursue, Juliette had visions for herself as well. But when five young girls were left to raise themselves, it didn’t end well.
A slight gust of cool air assaulted her. The stiff breeze slipped through the sliding glass door off the living room, which was slightly ajar.
Juliette pulled it all the way open and peered out.
