21. Britta

Chapter twenty-one

Britta

D ex gives me a nervous smile. If I hadn't already swallowed my sushi roll, I'd be choking on it. I'll be lucky if I can keep it down as it is.

"Did you just … ask me to marry you?" I feel a little queasy.

"Yes, but no. It'd be more of a business arrangement." Dex's words come out even faster than usual, and in that nano-second, his entire face turns as red as the tiny pepper on top of the sushi roll I just ate.

"A business marriage?" That sounds even less tempting than a regular, old-fashioned marriage. "Do you mean a marriage-of-convenience? That's what they're called in the Hallmark movies my dad likes. I didn't think they were a real thing."

"Forget I asked. I'm really sorry I made things so awkward. The whole idea is a bit gone. I shouldn't have even mentioned it—I blame it on Archie." Dex rubs the back of his neck and keeps his gaze down.

I crane my neck and catch his eye. "You didn't make things awkward. Thank you for sharing your dream with me."

He lets out a loud breath and sends me a nervous grin that's so adorably shy and sexy at the same time that I nearly change my mind about marrying him.

"Are you still hungry? Or have I made you lose your appetite too?" He points at the half-eaten plates of food.

I hate wasting food. But Dex looks so uncomfortable that there's no way my stomach can take anymore raw fish on top of a marriage/business proposal.

"You didn't make me lose anything, but raw fish is surprisingly filling." I sound too perky, which only adds to the awkwardness we're both pretending isn't pressing in on us. "Except we haven't got the check yet."

"It's already taken care of." Dex stands and tosses his napkin on the table.

"I was supposed to buy you dinner." I grab my purse and try to wave down Kenzo.

"Britta…" There's a desperation in Dex's voice that makes me drop my hand. "They don't let me pay here. Even if they did, after I ruined the night, I wouldn't let you buy me dinner. I owe you at least a thousand dinners for saying something so stupid."

Dex takes my elbow and leads me out the door. The air outside is cooler than it was when we went inside, and I shiver as the breeze from the ocean hits me.

If Dex notices I'm cold, I can't tell. He drops my elbow and puts at least a foot between us as we make our way to the boardwalk. There's no handholding or being protected from the wind. And I'm a little hurt that he's letting my ‘no' to his marriage offer come between us, but also surprised by how much I miss the warmth of him.

I don't miss it enough to marry him. But I also don't want this business proposal—for lack of a better term—to come between us. Honestly, I'm flattered he thinks he could marry me, even if just for pretend.

So, I close the distance between us and slide my arm through his. "Liam…" no more calling him Dex—that's when things went sideways. "I'm really flattered you asked, and that you'd be willing to help me buy Annie's. "

He tenses, and for a second, I expect him to pull away from me. Instead, he lets out a loud sigh. "It's a stupid idea, but I'm just desperate enough to get to the Olympics that I lost my head. But it was Archie's idea, so blame him for putting it in my head in the first place."

"I just assumed an idea that bad had to be his."

Dex laughs and squeezes my arm close to his side. "Thanks for not bolting when I said it. Have I mentioned that it's been a crazy, intense week?"

I drop my head on his shoulder. "If I were ever to marry someone I barely knew, it would definitely be you."

"So, are you saying you'll think about it?" There's teasing in his voice as he slides his arm around my waist, resting his hand on my hip and sending a shiver of excitement up my spine.

Now it's my turn to laugh. "My family would disown me if I got married for any other reason than love. And I don't plan on falling in love any time soon. I need to figure out who I am and what I want first."

He taps his fingers on my hipbone. "Those are good reasons for not falling in love, but I've always thought falling was involuntary. Whether it's in love or because of the law of gravity. But if you've got the secret for how not to do both, let me in on it. I could win a lot more competitions if I could quit the habit of falling for girls and on waves."

I scoff at his naivete. "I can't tell you how not to fall in surfing, but in love, you avoid getting emotionally attached to anyone. Like you said, you don't let anyone get in the way of the thing you love to do."

"Is that what I said? I meant that if you love doing something, don't let anything get in the way of doing the thing you love. I didn't mean love a dream more than people, but I see your point." He drops his arm from my waist, but just as I miss his touch, he hooks my finger with his pinkie. "Sometimes dreams are so big, there's no room left for anything else, including relationships."

We're further apart, but maybe that's better. The way he's rephrased my words makes them sound harsher than I meant them. More selfish than plain old self-defense. Love makes goodbyes even harder, especially long ones. I don't want to go through that again.

But there is some truth to how Dex said it. "I was planning on a prestigious internship in LA, but then my mom got sick. I wouldn't change my decision to go back home and take care of her, but I want to take some time for myself now, before my life gets swept up in someone else's needs. Not that I don't want that someday, when I'm ready to be a wife and a mom. Just not yet."

The thought that chases my words is that Paradise might not be the best place for my personal growth or for finding the kind of man I could share my life with. My chest constricts, pressing on my lungs and slowing my pace.

Waves crash on the shore, but the dark hides everything but the sound. In the moonless night, I feel Dex's eyes on me as he moves closer, sliding his hand around mine.

"I feel the same," he says quietly. "I want all that someday, but not now when I have to prioritize my career." Dex pauses, then a breathy laugh escapes.

"What?"

"The fact we're both focused on what it takes to achieve our goals might actually make a business marriage work. We're not in love, so that won't hold us back from what we really want, but being married could keep us from falling in love with other people."

I've seen the fierce competitor Dex is on the waves, but this calculating side of him surprises me. There's a cynicism to it that doesn't vibe with his usual optimism, and I wonder if he believes what he's saying. On the surface, it makes sense. But if I already like Dex, how do I keep from falling in love with him if I marry him?

"You make it sound so easy…" I say, not hiding my sarcasm. "Being married without forming any kind of emotional connection. Wouldn't the INS—or whoever is in charge of naturalization—have to believe we were married for real? That's what always happens in my dad's Hallmark movies. Someone will get deported if they're caught marrying for citizenship."

"Hmm. Good point." Dex thinks for a few seconds. "We already have a connection— I felt it the minute we met, anyway—so there's no putting that genie back in the bottle. But that could work in our favor. Anyone who interviews us would see we're attracted to each other."

My heart dances. I'd felt that connection too, but I didn't know Dex had. I don't tell him that. And if he feels my pulse quicken, he doesn't react.

"We'd have to have rules to keep that attraction from growing," I say, surprising myself, since all this talk is purely theoretical. I'm not marrying Dex. "Lots of them, so we don't get emotionally attached."

We both go quiet until Dex mumbles, "Heaps of rules? Like what?"

I say the first thing that comes to mind. "Like no physical intimacy."

Dex goes quiet, and his steps slow. "None? Not even kissing?"

I shake my head, even though I already regret the words. "Absolutely not. It would confuse things. At least for me."

"But we'd have to kiss sometimes… for people to believe we were married." There's a desperate hopefulness in his voice that doesn't sound at all, like we're in a serious contract negotiation.

Which we're not, because I'm not marrying Liam Dexter.

We cross the two-way path toward our apartment building, but before we're off the path, a dog barks behind me, and someone yells, "Watch out! On your left."

For the second time tonight, Dex pulls me out of the way of oncoming traffic—this time a large dog running fast enough to pull his skateboarding owner behind him. Dex's arms tighten around my waist, our bodies pressed so close together I can feel his heartbeat under my hands on his chest.

Our eyes lock, and the air goes still, cocooning us in the sound of crashing waves and our own breath. I wait for him to kiss me, but as he leans close, loud voices come from the apartment building.

He lifts his gaze and loosens his hold on me. The windows are open in his unit and the next shout is definitely from Archie. Dex blinks, and with it, our ridiculous fantasy of being married disappears.

"Sounds like the match has started. We should head up." He lets go of my hand and picks up his pace, not quite leaving me behind, but not quite letting me catch up, either. As we get closer, I can make out Stella's voice, too.

"I guess Stella went over without me after all," I say as we climb the cement stairs.

"I texted Archie to go get her. Wasn't sure we'd make it back before the match started."

We reach the landing between our apartments, and in his glance, l catch a flicker of sadness. He blinks and it's gone as he reaches for his doorknob. "You coming in?"

I want to say yes, but I shake my head. Stella's already there. She doesn't need me. By now she's BFFs with Rhys. I don't have it in me to put on a happy face and pretend I didn't just turn down Dex's marriage proposal. The awkwardness between us would be too noticeable.

"Well, thank you for the dinner." His voice is more formal than I've ever heard it.

I send him an apologetic smile, then step close enough to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Dex. And I'm sorry."

The next morning, Stella shuffles into the kitchen, looking tired and possibly hung over. I went to bed before she got home, so we didn't talk. Honestly, I didn't really feel like talking, anyway. All I could think about was Dex's proposal, and I'm not sure he'd want anyone to know he asked me—sort of—to marry him.

In case she's mad, I hand her the coffee I've made for myself as a peace offering. She takes a long, loud sip, then sinks into a barstool at the counter. "Mmm. That's good."

"I'm sorry I didn't come over last night." I set up the French press to make a second cup of coffee.

Stella waves away my comment while she sips from her mug. "Dex said the sushi upset your stomach."

"Oh, yeah. Something like that. I definitely felt off after dinner." That's not an outright lie. My world did get tipped on its axis. "Did you have fun? How was Rhys?"

Stella rolls her eyes. "Let's just say my decade-long crush on him is officially over."

"What! Why?" This news is almost as surprising as Dex's proposal.

"He's soooo boring in real life and full of himself. Every time I asked him a question, he'd give me a one or two-word answer. I tried to ask him about the AFL—"

"—What's that?"

" Exactly . That's the game they were watching last night. No one's heard of it besides Australians, so obviously I had questions." Stella gives her shorts an annoyed tug, then sits back down.

"Maybe he was just into the game." I take the stool next to her to wait for my cup of coffee to finish brewing.

"You can watch a game and have a conversation at the same time. The two are not mutually exclusive. It's not like you're going to distract the players from throwing their ball in the right direction." Sometimes Stella likes to be the center of attention, so I take what she says about Rhys with a grain of salt.

"Dex was weirdly quiet too," she says. "Not I'm-too-cool-for-you quiet, like Rhys, but not as funny as he usually is. Did something happen at dinner?" She holds my eyes. I look away.

I stare at the French press, willing it to finish and give me an escape, while also debating if I should tell her. Probably not, but I've got to tell someone, and Stella is right here. Plus, for as much as she talks, she knows how to keep a secret.

"He proposed to me last night," I blurt.

Stella sips her coffee, unfazed. "Proposed what?"

"Marriage."

Her eyes go wide, and she sets her mug down so hard, coffee flies out. Whatever the opposite of unfazed is—fazed?—she's that. She's extra fazed. Fazed and confused.

"He asked you to MARRY him? Like with a ring and someone recording the whole thing?"

"Not quite that. More like, ‘let's have a business arrangement where we get married so I can be an American and you can buy Annie's .'"

"Shut. UP." She slides off her stool, splays both hands on the counter, and leans so close I can smell the vanilla lotion she likes. "He Proposal ed you? Like in that movie with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds and the eagle that snatches the dog?"

I reluctantly nod. I should have never let her watch that movie when we were younger. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Britta, please tell me you said yes. Please tell me you're the star of your own real-life romcom that co-stars the current World's Greatest Surfer, who also is Australian. " Stella grabs my shoulders and shakes me. "I need all the details. All. Of. Them."

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I'm surprised to see Dad is calling. We've already got a call with the whole family scheduled tonight to talk about Britta's, which somehow slipped my mind until right this minute. Maybe because I'm still a little in shock about being proposed to. By a famous, world-champion surfer—as Stella just pointed out—which puts my "no" in a more questionable light.

I click on the answer button and Dad's face pops up before Stella can shake anything else out of me. "Hi Dad! Say hi to Stella!"

I turn the phone and Stella's face transforms from a searing glare at me to her biggest smile for my dad.

"Hi, Uncle Pete! Britta's got big news!"

I flip the phone around so fast I drop it. As I scramble after it, I mouth, don't say anything, to Stella. She cups her ear like she can't hear me, and I get close enough for her and only her—not the rest of my dad who's asking where I went—to hear me.

"I told him no." I cover her mouth before a WHAT?? can explode from her mouth. "I will tell you everything after this call."

"Fine," she mumbles through my hand.

I carry the phone to my room and shut the door, then put on a smile for my family. "Hi! It's so good to see all of you."

They respond with muffled hi's. Something is off. They're too quiet and not making eye contact. Even Georgia isn't smiling, and she smiles all the time. She's kind of known for it. Literally, it's a thing she's famous for.

Dad puts his screen closer to his face. "Everyone is already here, so we called you now instead of waiting until tonight."

"Ohh-kay." The very-serious vibe is making me nervous.

"We should get right down to business," Dad says.

That's when I'm certain things aren't going to turn out the way I want them to. Dad's not a "down to business" guy. He's more of a, "let's wander down a few tangents, then forget what we're talking about," kind of guy.

"The city has offered a good price for Britta's, and I think we should take it," he says, going from point A to point B at bullet-train speed.

Meanwhile, I'm still at the station wondering when the steam engine is going to arrive. "Excuse me?"

I look at my brothers one by one until Adam finally speaks up. "I don't like it either, Britta, but the repairs are going to be really expensive."

"How expensive?" I ask.

"Basically, we have to tear down the whole building and start from scratch—the foundation isn't salvageable and it would be more expensive to lift what we have and fix the foundation than it would be to rebuild. Selling to the city is the more reasonable option, but it sucks." Adam's mouth pulls into a tight line that tells me he's no happier saying it than I am hearing it.

I look at the faces of my family, lined up on my screen in tiny squares, expecting one of them to jump in. When they don't, I say what they should. "Then let's tear the whole building down and start from scratch. That's what Mom would want." My throat is dry, and tears sting my eyes.

"I don't think she would, Britta," Dad says softly.

Zach and Bear both nod before Zach says, "The city has made us a good offer, Britta. We can split it five ways."

"Or," Bear butts in, "we can use the money to convert the living space attached to Cassie's bookstore into a new location for Britta's and transfer the ownership to Britta the way it should have been done in the beginning. It's ridiculous that we are making a decision that should be hers—she's the one who kept the shop running all these years, never mind the will."

"That's my vote," Zach says, and I wonder if he's already proposed the idea to my family.

"Mine too," Bear and Dad say at the same time.

"Financially, it makes the most sense," Adam mumbles. "But I don't like it. I want to keep Britta's as much what it is now as we can."

I don't say anything. My chest squeezes so tight I can barely breathe, let alone talk. When I finally take in enough air to speak, all I can whisper is, "What about Mom?"

Bear is the first to answer. "The city wants to expand the indoor ice rink into a bigger community center and the center is still going to be named after Mom. She loved hockey, and she loved Paradise. It's still a tribute to her, in my opinion. And we could still have Britta's . It's just a different location."

Naming the community center after Mom was one condition Bear and I asked for when we convinced the city council to fund the ice rink. But having Mom's name on a building isn't the same as having the coffee shop she spent her life building. It has my name, but Britta's was always mom's. The community sees it that way. I see it that way. Giving up the location feels so wrong.

"Or you can take your portion of the money from the sale and do whatever you want with it, honey," Dad says. "If you want to put it toward the new Britta's, the store will be all yours. But I think the way this needs to go is obvious."

"Are you kidding me right now?" I search their faces, but no one seems to be joking. "I've spent most of my life working at Britta's, and I don't get a say in what happens to it?"

"Of course, you do." Dad's sincere tone sets loose the tears I've been holding back. "We all want what's best for the shop, but even more, we want what's best for you. Mom worried you wouldn't ever leave if you came home to take care of her. She begged me to talk you out of giving up your internship." His breath hitches. "But… I wanted my whole family together for the little time we had left."

I sniff and wipe my cheeks.

"I think that's why she didn't leave Britta's to only you, Sweetie. She wanted you to have choices, not force a future on you that might not be the one you would otherwise choose. She was being kind, and she was being a good mom when she made that decision." He swallows hard, then looks at me so close through the screen, I feel like we're in the same room. "And I'm telling you, too. Paradise will always be your home, but it doesn't have to be your only home."

I appreciate what Dad's saying, but without Britta's, I'm not sure how Paradise can be home. In a matter of weeks, the tether that's held me to my hometown has unraveled strand by strand, and I can't tell whether I feel unmoored or…free.

" Britta's has been as much a home to me as Paradise," I say. That's as close as I can get to saying goodbye to Britta's .

"Honey, home isn't a place. It's the people you love," Dad says quietly. "And we'll always be here for you, no matter where you are. There's a lot that's happened in our family these last few years—all the extra faces on this call are proof of that—and there will be more changes. That's how we keep growing and moving forward. We all want you to have an opportunity to choose your own path—wherever it leads—knowing that we will always be with you on that journey. Just like Mom is."

One by one, they all nod. And I realize, my family is giving me permission to live my own dreams, even though I'm not sure what those are anymore.

Then last night's conversation with Dex comes back to me. If Britta's wasn't in the equation, would you want to buy Annie's?

I hadn't thought twice about my answer.

"How much money is there if we sell to the city?" My question comes out staggered and painful.

Following my dream means letting go of Britta's altogether.

"About forty thousand for each of us," Zach answers.

"I'm willing to give you my share, Britta," Bear says.

"No way, Bear." I don't even have the words out before my dad and brothers follow with the same offer. "I couldn't let any of you do that."

While I don't want to take the money, I can't help thinking about how two hundred thousand dollars would be a good-sized starter fund on Annie's. Not enough to buy it outright—not even close with the value of both the business itself and the beach-adjacent property it's on. But I could do it. I could have my coffee shop in LA, live by the beach, and make a new start on my own.

Then I realize something. "Will you be able to open the new Britta's if you give me your shares?"

One at a time, my brothers and dad shake their heads.

"Then no. I won't take it. I don't know what I'll do with my share yet, but I won't take anyone else's."

Dad opens his mouth to say something, and I stop him. "But thank you all. Your generosity…"

I can't finish the sentence. The sacrifice they were all willing to make is so much bigger than money, but it's too big. I can give up Britta's if I know it will survive. A newer version is better than no version at all.

We talk a little more—and cry. It's possible there's more crying than talking until we finally give up and end the call with sniffling I love you 's.

Stella waits zero seconds before she comes into my room. "I heard everything. You Thomsens are loud." She throws her arms around me, and I cry some more.

When I finally get my emotions back under control, I say, "I have no idea what I'm going to do."

"You're going to buy Annie's !" she says confidently.

"There's not enough money . " I haven't given up on the idea of buying Annie's ; but I'll need a lot of financing. " This is LA, beach adjacent, and not just the business, the property, too. I might be a small-town girl, but I'm not na?ve enough to think I can buy Annie's with forty thousand dollars."

Stella takes my face in her hands and looks me straight in the eyes. "Then you have only one more question to answer…" she pauses long enough for maximum dramatic effect. "Are you going to say yes to the Dex?"