When it was time for him to go, she’d been a little sad, but not clingy. Her happiness for him was remarkable. They’d made plans for her to come out and see him. Plans he had been confident she meant to keep.
She didn’t.
He’d tried to stay in touch through calls, emails, and texts. And eventually, as her responses dried up, he accepted that something wonderful had slipped through his grasp. He blamed the age difference and the gap in their career paths.
As the first glimmer of dawn lightened the sky, he told himself once more that nearly twelve years had proven too much to bridge. Eventually, he’d buried the sweetest memories of his life under layers of tenure-track committees and research papers. He could only guess how she’d gotten over him. Had to assume that she looked back at that intense summer with fondness for a fling.
A lick of temper shot through him. For years he could only guess and assume. He deserved a better answer. And now, she was right here in town. Within reach. Close enough to give him the explanation he craved.
So she’d turned down his invitation to coffee.Fine. He didn’t need it to be an event. Probably better if it didn’t feel like a date. Unless she’d moved away while he’d spent the night pacing, he could find her again and have a talk. Surely there was some logical reason she’d never followed through on their plans. He needed to hear her rationale if he was ever going to ease the vise locked around his heart.
That wasn’t exactly in line with the original low-key relaxation vibe that brought him here, but he refused to waste this opportunity.
Decision made, he nearly bolted out of the house to go looking for her. But he caught his reflection in the sliding glass door between the porch and the kitchen. Going out with his hair a mess, a scruffy jawline, and last night’s clothing would backfire. Especially in a town likely to side with her over an old flame.
The hot shower and close shave perked him up. The hit of caffeine from his first cup of coffee finished the job. Feeling nearly human, he dressed in chinos and a navy-blue tee and slipped into sneakers better suited for a sandy sidewalk or the beach. Grabbing his wallet, watch, and keys, he headed for the car.
His hands weren’t quite steady as he gripped the steering wheel. Nerves had him by the throat. But he needed answers. And fuel for the search. He found a parking place a block back from Central Avenue and walked back, aiming for the Palmetto Perk coffee shop.
But as he rounded the corner, he saw Scarlett stepping into the Bread Basket bakery.
The welcome packet at his rental recommended the highly-reviewed, cult favorite strudel baked fresh daily. No time like the present to find out for himself.
He joined the growing line, watching Scarlett through the window. Last night she’d worn faded jeans and a peasant top, her hair loose and wild and totally the woman he remembered. Today, she wore a simple pale green dress and she’d twisted up her long dark hair in a clip that left the nape of her neck exposed.
Was that skin still soft as silk? Was she still ticklish at the curve of her neck and shoulder?
“Hey, man. Line’s moving,” a voice said from behind him.
“Sure thing. Sorry.” Cooper shuffled forward, hoping he made it inside before she was walking out again. The door swung open as a few patrons left, their purchases scenting the air with vanilla and cinnamon. He understood why the place was so popular now. That aroma was instantly addictive.
The line moved inch by inch until he was finally inside, enveloped by the scents of buttery pastry and warm cinnamon.
Scarlett was at the counter, her back to him. Blame it on the lack of sleep, but he stepped out of line, walking right up behind her without a conscious thought. He’d expected someone to complain or shout at him, but this wasn’t New York City or San Francisco. Apparently, here in Brookwell, folks were given the benefit of the doubt.
“Good morning, Scarlett.”
She jerked and spun around at the sound of his voice. He caught the last flicker of her smile before it vanished along with the happy sparkle in her eyes. Her gaze skirted across the room. “Good morning, Cooper.”
Her jaw was set and he was sure she was rattling through a litany of curse words in her head. All aimed at him, no doubt.
“Please don’t run off again.” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so desperate, but the words were out before he could filter them through his usual academic reserve.
She scoffed. “As if.” She turned back to the young woman at the cash register. “Thanks, Lila. Can Cora stay a few minutes more?”
“Of course.” Lila gave him a hard look as she handed a white bag to Scarlett. “Have a good day.”
“I will,” Scarlett assured her. She jerked her chin, directing him to back up so the line behind her could progress. “Why are you following me?” She grabbed napkins from the dispenser, clutching them in her fist.
“I’m not. I didn’t.” But he had. “Not intentionally.” Except his whole intent had been to find her and now he was screwing this up. He cleared his throat and straightened to make full use of his height. “We had plans.”
She shook her head, her gaze cool. “You’re pulling that move with me? Unbelievable.” She glanced around. “Plans change,” she muttered.
“Tell me why,” he pressed. “Explainwhat changed and I’ll go away. Keep my distance. Please.”
“We had what we had.” Those eyes held him captive. “We had our time together and it ended.” Something wistful drifted through her gorgeous eyes. “I was happy then. With you. For you. The timing just wasn’t right for us.”
Her tone was firm. Cold. That wasn’t the whole story. Even in her early twenties, Scarlett had been excellent at hiding her deeper feelings. “Ended?” He stared at her. “Not if I’m standing here seven years later trying to figure out what happened.” He should’ve made the time to come back and figure out what was going on. Instead, he’d given them too much space and lost something precious. “I let go too easily,” he said, stepping closer. The scent of her—something like vanilla and sunshine—hit him, and for a second, he was thirty-three again, sitting on an oversized porch swing in Charleston, watching the moon track across the harbor. “You were going to follow me. Join me.”
