“If the real estate office doesn’t reach out to you in the next day or two, let me know,” Grace said. “I’ll make it clear that yours is the only service I want on site.”
Camille smiled. “Thanks, Grace.”
“As for when and who?” She shrugged. “I don’t have those details yet. The office handles that stuff. We finalized things a few days ago and they told me to expect the tenant any day now. It will probably be several tenants over the course of the next twelve months.”
Scarlett frowned. “So they could just rent it to a serial killer and you wouldn’t know?”
“I guess it’s possible,” Grace allowed. “If that serial killer works for a marketing firm…”
Everyone laughed, and as the sound faded, a small bubbly echo of giggling continued. Grace turned with the rest of their group to see Trina approaching with her son on her hip.
“He doesn’t like to be left out of a joke,” Trina said. “His daddy’s son for sure. Do y’all mind if he stays? I think he’ll quiet down soon enough. He just didn’t want me to leave tonight.”
Charity popped to her feet. “On one condition, mama. Let me give that sweet face a kiss.” She did, making Marcus giggle again.
Grace felt a little twinge in her chest as she saw the little boy snuggle close to Trina’s chest. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d dreamed of becoming a mother and cuddling babies withbig brown eyes and a mop of curly brown hair. “Can we get you anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.” Trina pulled her phone from her pocket as she swayed side to side. “I’m prepared to read on my app tonight.”
After a brief check-in about what everybody was reading this week, the room grew quiet. That was the whole point of The Beach Readers Silent Book Club: reading in friendly solidarity. Grace loved taking time for herself this way. And though it seemed counterintuitive, she believed their friendships had grown stronger in the silence.
Grace loved running the store. She enjoyed both her customers and her employees, but there were times when the voices just got too loud. Times when she wanted to feel social and connected without adding to the overwhelm. Book club was the perfect solution.
Craving quiet was a relatively new issue that she suspected had more to do with adjusting to the persistent silence of her house. Somehow, living alone in that muted space only created more resistance to the background noise she used to thrive in.
She blamed it on grief and had given herself a year, before admitting it was time to get social again. Having friends over for movie nights and craft days was a good start. And Willow joined her frequently for dinner.
Grace glanced at Willow. She expected to see less of her friend now that Willow and Levi were engaged. And rightfully so. Grace was thrilled for her friend, even if that meant less girl time. They’d just make the most of whatever time they could find.
Although, Willow was confident in her relationship and not at all shy about taking time for herself. She hadn’t missed a book club yet, despite being engaged to and in business with one of the wealthiest men in the country.
Grace returned her attention to her book, sipping her hot chocolate and losing herself in the thrill of vibrant, brave characters soaring into a battle on the backs of their dragons.
CHAPTER 2
The warm glow of streetlights cast shadows across the sidewalks and pavement as Grace drove home almost two hours later. She’d been so caught up in her book she hadn’t realized how much time had passed. Hadn’t noticed her friends leaving. At the chapter break, she’d closed the book to find herself alone in the tea room with Holly Brooks, one of the Brookwell Bugle editors.
Though Grace felt terrible about the imposition, Holly told her not to worry as they walked out to their cars, reminding her they’d all done the same thing at some point.
She really did have the best friends in the world. Had a great life, really, even if she was lonely sometimes. On nights like this one, it was easy to adore small town life. She ran a thriving business in an area where people could walk without fear of trouble.
Like the man standing on the corner in front of her shop as she turned down Magnolia. A wave of concern washed over her as she kept an eye on the stranger. She slowed as much as she dared, willing him to keep moving.
He didn’t.
“This town is safe. The shop is safe.” The self-talk didn’t help. She circled the block for another look.
The guy was still there. Standing on the curb directly in front of Beach Belle, half-hidden by the massive, wrought-iron lamppost that marked the corner of Central and Magnolia. He wasn’t doing anything overtly suspicious—just standing there, looking up at the freshly cleaned windows of the newly rented apartment. But his stance, the way he held himself—so confident, sostill—made the hairs on the back of Grace’s neck prickle.
He was so unfamiliar. As if he belonged to a different world entirely. Passing by, she catalogued the boxy olive-green jacket, tweed flat cap, and blue jeans. Brown boots, better suited to city life than hiking. Tall too. She caught a flash of pale skin above his brown beard.
Her hands shook as she drove halfway down the block and pulled to a stop in front of the Magnolia B&B to call the police.
“I live in the safest place on earth,” she mumbled to herself.
She was probably overreacting. But she’d feel better if someone from the police department told her so.
Brookwell was a small town, but they didn’t exactly roll up the sidewalks at dusk. People walked dogs, chatted, and stopped to admire the themed window displays on Central.
