“I want the store, but it was your first baby, and I don’t want to diminish that by making too many changes. If reimagining things makes either of you sad or uncomfortable, I’ll look for another space to lease, and we can totally take that cruise.”
“You want our store?” Mom asked, her voice soft and thick with emotion.
My throat tightened, and I knew it was true. I could set up shop anywhere and succeed, but deep down, I wanted to succeed with the store I’d grown up in. “Yes.”
“Ed, she wants the store.”
“Well, hot damn!” Dad bellowed in the background.
“Honey, we don’t care what you do with this place. We know whatever you do will be great. We’re just thrilled to see it stay in the family. It’s our legacy now.”
I wiped my eyes and smiled widely. “I think you’ll love what I have planned, but I want to work on the details before I share.”
“Of course.”
“Mom,” I said, a thousand emotions lightening my heart and head. “Thank you so much for supporting me so I could take this trip. I needed it more than I knew.”
She sighed, and I imagined her pressing a palm to her chest. “I love you so much, sweet girl.”
We spoke for a few more minutes before saying our goodbyes, and I slowly released ten years of tension.
I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my notebook there. The more I thought about owning Rini Reads, and the changes I’dmake, the more excited I became. Taking over for my parents no longer felt as if they were dumping their responsibilities on me. It felt like a gift I’d earned by proving I was the right person for the job. Their trust and faith were priceless, and I planned to make them proud.
A week ago—even twenty-four hours ago—I never would’ve imagined looking forward to returning to my life in Willow Bend. What a difference a day could make.
The phone rang as I scrolled through images of adorable dogs in reading glasses, and I stilled when Davis’s number appeared on the screen.
“Hey,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”
“Why not?” I looked toward the stone manor down the lane. No sounds of power tools or falling drywall met my ears.
“You’ve been hard at work for a while. I thought you’d have your ringer off.”
I dragged my gaze from window to window, wondering if he could see me from wherever he was now. “I just talked to my mom, so this is a good time. What’s up?”
“What were you working on?”
I turned back to my notebook, pleased with the progress. “I’m making plans for the bookstore.”
“Want to talk about them?” he asked. “I was just about to break for lunch, so I have some time,” he said.
I raised my eyes to the sound of his voice, now in stereo, both through the phone’s speaker and in the space to my left. I disconnected the call to watch him approach.
His navy T-shirt was untucked over his blue jeans, and he’d pinned his hair away from his face with a backward ball cap once more. He’d traded his tool belt for a thermal lunch tote, and I smiled at the perfect combination of my new favorite things.
“May I?” He motioned to the space beside me on the blanket he’d recently returned.
I scooted over to make more room.
Davis sat and placed the bag between us. “Not quite as cool as your hot chocolate charcuterie, but I’ve got soup and sandwiches.” He unpacked two croissants wrapped in parchment. Two small thermoses, presumably filled with soup. Utensils, bottled water, and napkins.
I set my books and phone aside and tried not to overthink the fact he’d gotten up this morning and packed a lunch clearly meant for two.
“Chicken salad,” he said, pointing to the sandwiches.
I selected a croissant and peeled away the wrapping.
Davis opened his thermos. “And potato soup.”
