“How soon can you get here?”
“That depends on if you have a spare toothbrush.”
“I’ll find one. Or I’ll use a vegetable brush from the kitchen, and you can use mine.”
“Sounds like something I wouldn’t want to miss.”
After hanging up, Maddie steered onto the shoulder of theroad and texted Rafe: I’M GOING TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH FRIENDS INEDGARTOWN.
He quickly responded: COOL. SEE YOU TOMORROW—JOE ANDIARE GOING SCALLOPING AT DAWN!
All of which was why, the next morning, Maddie was not sitting alone at the new marble-topped, walnut-based table in Grandma’s cottage enjoying a late breakfast while admiring the dressed-up Christmas tree. Instead, she was under the covers of Rex’s king-size bed down-island, where she’d happily been all night.
Nicest of all, was that last night Rex admitted that until they’d gone to the Cape, he’d been keeping his distance from her because he did not want to just be friends.
Maddie no longer wanted distance, either, so she moved closer now, tucking her head onto his shoulder. “Have I told you I like being here?”
“That depends. Do you mean ‘here’ as on the Vineyard or ‘here’ in bed with me?”
“Both.”
“Huh,” he said, toying with her hair. “Imagine that. So … will you be okay if I go away for a few days?”
A warning of intuition pinched her heart. She stopped herself from saying, “No, I won’t be okay if you go away.” Right then, she did not even want him to get out of bed. So she chewed her lower lip and reminded herself not to have expectations. Wasn’t that what she wanted? So she squared her jaw and, trying to sound playful, said, “It depends. How long is a few days?”
“Six.”
“Hmm. How far?” Maybe there was a restaurant convention in Boston, or even better, on the Cape. Maybe he’d want her to join him …
“California,” she heard him say while she was musing. “We’re leaving New Year’s Day.”
She winced. She wanted things to keep blossoming between them—as they finally were. But why …California? And who were the “we”? At this stage of their relationship, were questions like that appropriate … or too intrusive?
“I’m going with Kevin,” he added before she could ask. “And Francine and Jonas and their kids.”
Francine managed the Vineyard Inn over on Chappaquiddick; she and her husband, Jonas, were Rex’s friends, family by choice if not by blood. They were young, with two small kids, and Maddie loved their company.
She relaxed. “Should I feel left out?” she quietly asked.
“Nope. I’m only going because Taylor backed out.” Taylor was Rex’s sister and Kevin’s wife, who seemed to cancel a lot of things, or maybe never wanted to do them in the first place. “She hates flying,” he continued, “so I’m taking her place. The restaurant will be closed until Valentine’s Day—hooray—so I won’t have to worry about that.”
“Well,” Maddie said, “at least you’ll be somewhere warm. I’m sure you’ll have fun.” Despite a pang of envy, she didn’t pry into why the heck they were going all the way across the country.
“We’re going to see Kevin’s sister, Annie,” he added, as if he’d read her mind again. “She’s the writer who owns part of the Vineyard Inn on Chappy. She’s also the one who backed me so I could buy the Lord James. I told you she lives out there now, right?”
“Yes, you did.” She wondered if Annie was the mystery investor he’d mentioned that possibly could help fund the bookshop. Lucky for Maddie, he’d also told her there was no romance—never had been—between Annie and him.
“Anyway, I’ll be back before you know it. Meanwhile, I hope you’ll forgive me when I tell you why I was so eager to see you last night. Not counting the sleeping part.” He turnedonto his side, their eyes inches apart. “But it’s something that might change your life.”
She tensed. “What could possibly be better than what we’re doing right here, right now?”
“Well, okay. Nothing could be better than this.” He toyed with her hair again. “But how about something else? A friend of a friend swore me to secrecy. But Arnie’s is moving closer to being yours. If you still want it.”
Maddie blinked. “You’re joking.”
He gently stroked her cheek. “I don’t joke about stuff like this. You have a couple more hurdles. There’s competition—only one is in the running, an art gallery, I think, but the guy who wants to do it is pretty young—and the Planning Board is waiting for the results of the structural study, which they should have any day. Otherwise, it looks hopeful.”
She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Wow. I’m stunned. I didn’t really dream that the town fathers would want a washashore to be in such a great location.”
