Chapter 40

chapter

forty

ADDIE

I throw my car—my newly perfectly functioning car—into park in front of a bustling Cream and Sugar.

Great .

I need Maren's undivided attention, but it doesn't look like I'll get it.

Still, I climb out of my car and stand in line. This is better than staying at home with my warring thoughts.

Three minutes later, the group in front of me moves as one, which is when I realize it's the Carmichael family of eight. I was so distracted by my fight with Owen that I didn't even recognize their faces. They were all just a blur.

Maren pokes her head out of the coffee truck and greets me, but it's not her usual friendly face. "What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept in days."

"I was up all night with the Devil wrangling a bull in my belly."

She squints.

"I'll explain later."

She hooks a thumb over her shoulder and says, "I have new coffee cookies I want you to try."

My fingers twitch at my sides as I make a noncommittal sound.

"I'll grab a couple of those, and then do you want your usual Fall in a Cup?"

"Thank you, but I don't want anything right now. Can we talk?" I nod toward the free picnic table under a tree as the Carmichaels disperse toward the park with their goodies in hand, and quiet descends.

Maren wipes her hands on her apron and steps aside, revealing she's not alone today. Tonya waves at me, and I think I wave back. I try to, at least.

I pace in front of the picnic table as Maren takes a seat and asks, "What's going on? You never turn down cookies." She waves a hand over me as I tap the outsides of my thighs to a nervous, off-beat rhythm. "I haven't seen you this worked up since they discontinued your favorite index cards."

"I'm with Owen," I blurt. "I mean, I was."

"Oh," Maren draws out, and her easy smile surprises me.

"What?"

"I already knew." She shrugs.

"How?" I screech.

"Scarlett was here this morning, babbling about Owen being at your place all night."

"That little… Wait." My eyes widen. "Did anyone hear her babbling?"

"Just me. And I gave her half a dozen cinnamon sugar cookies and a gift certificate to Daphne's to keep quiet."

"You dirty little saint."

"Tell me everything."

I pace by the picnic table as I relay the aftermath of our reunion kiss, the naughty special at the dance studio, and the filthy weekend in Savannah.

More than that, I share the significance of what he's done for me.

"I put off cleaning my house after my mother torpedoed it just so I could go to Owen's for a spontaneous visit." I throw my hands up. "I never drop responsibilities like that unless it's for work."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"It is. That's what I'm saying." I lick my lips. "He makes me… calm. I'm easygoing with him, but I'm still myself. I can be everything with him, and he's like, fine with it. More than fine, really. He likes me for all that I am, and he said so many wonderful things. Then I— ugh ." I bury my face in my hands to hide my heated cheeks.

"What happened?"

I look back at my friend and twist my lips. "I kicked him out."

"Why did you do that?" Maren gapes.

"He gave me an ultimatum. Said if I wouldn't tell the world we're together, then he and I would no longer be together."

"Wow." She leans back, the frowning lines around her lips smoothing into shock.

We remain silent for a few loaded seconds as more customers line up at the truck. Maren perks up when someone asks for a coffee cookie. She's clearly pleased with her new concoction, and after I clear up this mess with Owen—and eat more magic soup for my queasy stomach—I'll devour her new masterpiece too.

"So, what's the problem?" Maren lifts a brow toward me.

"An ultimatum is so unfair."

"Is it, though? You're not willing to openly admit how important he is to you, so I'd bet he feels slighted. Why would he stick around if he's unwanted?"

I blow out a breath and finally take a seat.

"What's the real problem?" she prods.

"My job, Mar. What happens to my job? I'd be putting my professional career in jeopardy and my personal life on display. It's so not like me."

"Doesn't mean you can't do it."

"Fine. Say I did all that, aired my business to the whole town that I've been intimate with a co-worker, and it doesn't work out between us? I'll be the laughingstock of the century."

"Why wouldn't it work out? Have you detected red flags?"

"If you count mowing my lawn without telling me a red flag, then yes." I snap my fingers. "Oh! And get this. His whole family gets together once a week to eat dinner. They don't do it to celebrate a birthday or something, either. They do it just because. Who does that?"

"Sounds more like green flags to me."

"Okay, so there have not been any real red flags—not yet. But there will be."

"Why are you so adamant that there will be?"

"Because that's what happens, isn't it? It's what happened with Stewart and every other guy I dated before him."

"Stewart was not a real possibility for you and your future. He was a pastime, at best, and when you realized you deserved more than to settle, you did the mature thing and broke up with him."

"The point is, love doesn't last, Maren." My shoulders slump. "Just ask my parents. Better yet, ask yourself. Look what happened with you and Nate, and you two were the real deal, even at such a young age. It was so obvious to everyone, but it exploded in a matter of minutes."

She dips her head, but not before I glimpse her frown.

"I am so sorry." I squeeze her hand in mine. "I didn't mean to bring up ancient history. I know it's painful, and I'm way out of line."

"I'm over Nate," she asserts. "But this isn't about your parents or what happened ten years ago with me. It's about you."

I exhale in frustration.

"If love isn't real, what would you say to Caroline and Austin?" she challenges. "Who would've thought Austin Kyle, of all people, would turn his life upside down for anyone? I never would've guessed he'd find a way to be happy with a woman, but here we are. Those two fell for each other in less than a week."

"They're different."

"Why?"

"They're the exceptions. Every rule has them, just like the stupid i before e rule. It's not always the case."

"That's not the entire saying." She snorts. "It's i before e except after c , and you know it. Which brings me to my point—you see what you want to see. Try looking at the whole picture here."

"What if the whole picture is scary?" I whisper.

"Then you take a deep breath, count to five, and face your fears head-on. It's the only way to overcome them." Maren sits back. "I think it'd help to talk to Rain."

"You want me to talk to my mother?" I gape. She can't be serious.

Except she totally is.

With a stone-cold expression, she pins her brown eyes on me. "She could offer some clarity into your skewed perception of love."

"She'd tell me there's no such thing."

"Has she ever actually told you that?"

"She doesn't have to. Her entire life is an homage to the sentiment." I roll my eyes.

Maren holds her hands up. "All I know is that when I brew a flat coffee or bake a sour cookie, I don't blame the espresso machine or the mixer. I go to the source—me. What did I do? Did I confuse the ingredients? Measure the wrong quantities? Perhaps the recipe simply wasn't a good one. Whatever the case, the mystery isn't going to solve itself."

"You paint quite the picture."

"I try." She pats my hand. "I have to help Tonya, but call me if you need anything. I have more colors with which to paint." With a snort, she hoists herself off the picnic table as more noise drifts from the truck.

Several more people have crowded the window, one of which is none other than Nate McAllister. Has Maren caught sight of him yet? She's about to be pissed.

I stick around for a beat to ensure I don't need to stand in for backup. I'm at my weakest at the moment, but I could still do some damage, if needed.

Besides, I'm enjoying the fresh air after a long night of doom and gloom. It's going to take a lot more than nature's sweet offerings to rid my skin of such clamminess, including at least twenty showers, but this is a good start.

My other issue is not off to a pleasant start, though.

Talking to Rain? Discussing someone I care about with Rain ? She's going to tell me to dump him—I just know it. She's going to list all the ways it's not worth it to dedicate my heart to one man and tell me that I'm too young to do so to begin with.

None of that is what I want to hear.

It's not what I want at all, but how can I make this work? It's asking too much to have it all, isn't it?