“Delilah.” I shake her hand, noticing the wedding ring that catches the afternoon light. “I’m taking over Petals & Promises.”
Jessica’s eyes light up. “Mrs. Smart’s flower shop! I heard she was retiring. You’re her daughter?”
“Guilty. She’s been trying to get me to move here for years. Finally wore me down.” I try to make it sound light, casual. Not like I’m running from a life that’s fallen apart spectacularly.
“Well, we’re thrilled to have you. Twin Waves has a way of becoming home faster than you’d expect.” Jessica gestures around herself. “So, are you a reader?”
“Obsessively.” I move toward the Romance section like a magnet pulls me there. “Mom always teases me about having my nose in a book instead of living my own love story.”
Understanding flashes across Jessica’s face. “I know that feeling. Sometimes books feel safer than real life.”
“Exactly.” I run my fingers along the spines from beloved authors. “Real life is messier and more painful.”
“But also more real.” A man emerges from a back room, carrying a stack of books. He’s tall, handsome in an intellectual way, with dark hair and kind eyes. “Sorry, couldn’t help overhearing. I’m Scott.”
“My husband,” Jessica adds, and the look they exchange makes my chest ache with longing. “And local romance author. So we’re both biased about books versus reality.”
“You’re V. Langley?” I blink at Scott. “Oh wow. I’ve read all your books. The early ones are incredible. AndHonest Hearts—” I stop, embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m fangirling.”
Scott laughs. “Never apologize for that. Jessica taught me that readers who love books are the best kind of people.”
“He’s biased because I’m a reader,” Jessica says, but her smile is radiant.
“Don’t let her fool you. She’s an author too. Her first book comes out next month.”
“Oh, congratulations!” I say.
I watch them, the easy affection, the inside jokes, the way they orbit each other naturally. A year ago, I had something like that. Or I thought I had, before everything imploded.
“So, Delilah,” Jessica says, pulling me from my thoughts. “What kind of romance are you in the mood for? Enemies to lovers? Second chance? Small town?”
“Second chance,” I say before I can think better of it.
Jessica’s knowing look suggests she hears more than I’ve said. “I have the perfect recommendation.” She moves to a display, selecting a book with a blue cover. “This one’s set in a coastal town. Heroine inherits her grandmother’s bakery, moves home after years away, and runs into her high school sweetheart who never left.”
My hands tremble slightly as I take the book. “Does it have a happy ending?”
“All the best romances do. Even the ones where you think it’s impossible.” Jessica’s voice is gentle. “Sometimes the second chance is even better than the first. Because you’re not the same people anymore.”
I clutch the book like a lifeline. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. I’m living it.” She gestures to Scott, who’s helping another customer. “Trust me, second chances can be pretty spectacular when you’re brave enough to take them.”
We chat for a few more minutes—about the shop, the town, the best coffee, Twin Waves Brewing Co., apparently. Jessica makes me feel welcome in a way I haven’t felt in months. Maybe Mom has been right about Twin Waves being the perfect place to start over.
As I head toward the register with my book and three others I’ve somehow accumulated, Jessica stops me.
“Hey, this might be forward, but we have a book club. Bookaholics Anonymous.” She pulls out a card with the details.“We’re always looking for new members. And we’re a pretty welcoming group.”
“I don’t know...” I hesitate. “I’m not great with new people.”
Jessica’s smile is encouraging. “No pressure. But if you want to come, we’d love to have you. Next meeting is Thursday night at seven. My place.”
I take the card, studying it. Friends who love stories as much as I do. It sounds terrifying and perfect simultaneously.
“I’ll think about it,” I promise.
“That’s all I ask.” Jessica rings up my books. “And, Delilah? Welcome to Twin Waves. I have a feeling you’re going to fit in perfectly here.”
