Chapter 4

Braxton placeda vase full of hydrangeas from his garden in the middle of his table and wondered if it was too much. He'd set the table and taken one look at the pillar candle in the middle and decided that wouldn't do at all. This wasn't a romantic date. This was a planning session.

The flowers were a mistake, too. It definitely looked like he was trying too hard. He picked them up and placed them on the butcherblock sideboard.

That was better.

"Seriously, man, I think you've lost your marbles," Dante said.

Braxton looked up at his friend and then cupped the back of his neck with one hand, massaging the tense muscles. "No kidding."

Dante glanced around at the homemade manicotti and tossed salad and raised both eyebrows. "Are you sure this isn't a date?"

"It's definitely not a date," Braxton insisted. "I already told you; we're planning?—"

"The midsummer celebration. Yeah. I heard you the first time. I guess if it were me, I'd have just ordered pizza and gotten a six pack instead of spending all afternoon cooking pasta and uncorking that fancy wine. What is it again?"

"Don't worry about it." Braxton didn't appreciate his friend needling him. So what if he liked pasta and wine? Who didn't?

"It's Italian," Dante said with a laugh as he peered at the bottle. "This is definitely a date."

"Get out. Lily will be here any minute, and we have work to do," Braxton grumbled.

"Text me the code word if you need me to stay away tonight."

"I'm not going to need you to stay away," Braxton said. "And what code word?"

Dante threw his head back and cackled. "See, you need it just in case."

"I don't need it," Braxton insisted.

"If you say so." Dante moved toward the front door. "I'm headed to the pub. If things heat up around here, just remember the code word is Peter."

"I'm not gonna text you!" Braxton called out over Dante's laughter.

The door slammed closed, and Braxton looked at his table. "Dammit, it does look like a date."

"It looks and smells wonderful," a familiar voice said from behind him.

Braxton spun to find Lily standing in his dining room, holding a notebook and looking lovelier than ever. Her long blond hair was down and cascading in waves over her shoulders, and instead of a dress like she'd worn the day before at her grandmother's, she had on formfitting blue plaid pants and a silky white blouse that hugged all the right curves. "Uh, hi. I didn't realize you were already here."

"Dante let me in. I hope that's all right."

"Of course it is," he said automatically and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

A few seconds of silence ticked by until Lily chuckled. "So, looks like you made dinner?"

"I should have ordered pizza." Braxton grabbed the wine bottle and poured two glasses.

"I prefer this," Lily said, waving at the pan of manicotti. "It smells amazing."

"I hope it lives up. Take a seat." He pulled her chair out for her and immediately regretted it. Not a date. Not a date. Not a date, he reminded himself. Why was he acting like a nervous sixteen-year-old?

This was a work meeting. Nothing more.

"How are you feeling today?" Lily asked.

"Fine. Why?"

"Just curious if the energy cleansing my grandmother did yesterday made any difference."

"Ah, yes, actually," he said, feeling himself relax as he smiled at her. The cleansing had made him feel lighter, and he had more energy than he'd had in ages. "Your grandmother was very kind doing that for me."

"She lives for that kind of thing," Lily said.

"Please, thank her again for me," Braxton said as he plated both of their dinners and then took a seat. With his wine glass in hand, he said, "So, which tasks are you interested in taking?"

Lily looked up from her plate of manicotti and blinked at him. "Sorry?"

"With our tight time constraints, I figured the best thing to do was to divide and conquer. I thought?—"

"Whoa. Hold on." Lily put her fork down and leaned forward. "Have you met my grandmother?"

"What are you getting at, Lily?" Braxton asked, keeping his gaze on hers.

She let out a huff of laughter. "Bethany Befana is the most meticulous person either of us have ever met. And as much as I'd like to take half the list and run with it, we can't do that. My grandmother is a very particular woman, and if everything isn't perfect, I will never hear the end of it. Besides, she asked us to work together, and if she finds out we didn't… Well, you probably don't want to live through that judgment. Trust me. We do this together or not at all."

So his instincts were right. She didn't necessarily want to be working with him and had only agreed to appease her grandmother. Well, what did he expect? He hadn't exactly been jumping at the chance to spend the next two weeks with her either, had he? Hadn't he been the one who'd tried to split up the list? But deep down, he knew he'd only done that because being around her was damn near torture. All he wanted to do was reach out and tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. But instead, he looked down at his dinner and nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. So, where do we start?"

"Organizing the competitions so we can get signups ready to post," she said, pulling out a notebook.

"Right." He launched into his vision for each of the races and the triathlon.

Lily frantically took notes, nodding along and adding a few suggestions here and there. But overall, they seemed to be on the same page. Then they moved onto the magical corn hole and the crochet competitions.

Once they had those mapped out and scheduled, they finished their dinner and each had another glass of wine. Braxton cleared the dishes and then asked, "Okay, what next? Should we tackle the food vendors?"

"Yes, but—wait! I just had another idea." She grinned up at him. "What about a floral arranging competition and a Best in Show blue ribbon for the craft corner? People can donate a few bucks to enter, and someone will walk away with bragging rights."

"Both of those sound like great ideas." Braxton moved over closer to Lily and started drawing a map on one of her notebook pages, wanting to make sure they were going to have room on the waterfront for all the activities.

"I like that setup," Lily said, leaning over his shoulder. Then she glanced up at him. "Your map is fantastic. Do you ever draw or paint for fun?"

"I used to," he admitted and felt a surge of pride from her praise. He hadn't shared his drawings with hardly anyone. They were just too personal. However, he liked that Lily knew something about him that most people didn't.

"Used to? Why'd you stop?" she asked, her expression full of curiosity.

"Life, I guess." He shrugged. "There never seems to be enough time." It was a lie, but he wasn't going to go into the reasons why he never picked up a paintbrush or sketchbook anymore.

"It happens. But if you enjoy it, you really should set aside some time just for yourself. You clearly don't work all the time. You're here with me, aren't you?"

She had him there. "Yeah. You're probably right. Maybe I'll think about it."

"Maybe." Her lips twitched with amusement as she shook her head. "Sounds exactly like what one says when they have zero plans to do something."

He laughed. "You're not wrong."

Lily nudged him with her shoulder and then flipped her notebook to a new page. "We need to recruit some food vendors. Any ideas?"

They discussed various food trucks to invite, but after calling a few, they learned there was another event being held south of Befana Bay that same week, and only one vendor had an extra truck available for the midsummer celebration.

"We need to brainstorm some ideas, or we're going to have to set up a grill and serve hotdogs," Lily said.

"It'd have to be more than one grill," Braxton added with a frown. "And we'd need a lot of grill handlers to volunteer. There have to be other food trucks around here somewhere."

"Over on the island?" Lily asked.

"Crystal Point Island?" Braxton asked, wondering why they'd have a bunch of food trucks. It was a small island, mostly made up of summer homes and not much in the way of tourism shops.

"No. Westerly. They have plenty of summer festivals, but none are on the island calendar during our event. See?" She turned her computer so that he could see what she was looking at. "They don't have anything scheduled until July 4th. If we're lucky, we might find everything we need over there."

Braxton nodded. "That could work. Are you free tomorrow to head to the island and see if we can get some samples?" While there weren't any events happening, the island's food trucks would likely still be parked somewhere, open for business.

"I can make time." Lily pulled up the ferry schedule. The island was about twenty-five miles from Befana Bay, but the only way to get there was by ferry. "It leaves every hour on the hour. So which one do you want to take? The ten or eleven o'clock?"

He huffed. "I was thinking the eight. If we go later, we'll waste half the day away, and I do still need to tend to my store at some point."

She gave him a strange look. "You think the food trucks are going to be open at 9:00 a.m.? Have you ever eaten at one?"

"Oh, right." Braxton felt like an idiot. What was he thinking? Obviously, most of them wouldn't open until lunch. "Then I'll go into work first thing and meet you for the ferry at ten. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect." Lily shut her notebook and pushed her chair back. "I think that's enough planning for tonight. We can finish the craft fair stuff while we're on the ferry tomorrow."

Disappointed she was leaving, Braxton stood and walked her to the door.

"It was a good night, Brax," she said, using his nickname for the first time since she'd walked in. "You're easier to work with than I thought you might be."

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended," he said with a huff of laughter.

"Flattered, definitely," she said as she patted his chest just over his heart. Then she pressed up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "And there wasn't even one inappropriate stripper."

"Something to save for next time."

Lily laughed, and it made Braxton want to wrap her in his arms and ask her to stay. Instead, he took a step back and said, "See you in the morning, Lily."

She paused and then cleared her throat before she said, "Thank you for dinner. It was lovely."

Braxton nodded, unsure of what to say, but it didn't matter because in the next moment, she disappeared out his front door and hurried down the street toward her small cottage that sat just a few houses from the water's edge. He stood at his window, watching her until she was safely inside her house.

He didn't move for a long moment, happy to bask in the glow of a wonderful evening with a woman he liked entirely too much. It wasn't until he heard his phone buzz that he retreated. And since it was well past ten in the evening, he figured it was either Dante checking to see if it was clear for him to return, or Lily, who might have thought of something else for the celebration.

Braxton strode over to the table, grabbed his phone, and scowled.

It was neither Dante nor Lily.

It was his mother.

He debated before answering it. There wasn't anything stopping him from ignoring her call. But if he did, he knew she'd just blow up his phone until he finally answered.

It probably would have been easier to just take the call and get it over with, but he just couldn't. Not after the pleasant night he'd had with Lily. He was in far too good a mood to deal with his mother. That would have to wait for another day.

After the phone rang nonstop for nearly ten minutes, the noise finally stopped until his voice mail notification chimed.

He stared at the phone like it was a rattlesnake that would bite him if he touched it. But he finally just sucked it up and listened.

"Baby, it's your mother. Well, obviously. I'm calling from my number, so you know that. I was really hoping we could chat and maybe finally put our differences behind us. I know you're angry, but surely enough time has lapsed that we can finally reconnect and put everything that happened behind us. You know, start being a family again." She rattled off her number as if he didn't already have it and then said, "Call me, baby. Anytime."

Braxton didn't even consider calling her. He immediately deleted the message and then fumed as he paced his kitchen. She had some nerve. How dare she call and act like everything was just fine? As if he'd been a toddler who'd needed to get a tantrum out of his system.

He'd already told her in no uncertain terms that he didn't want to have anything to do with her while she was selling potions and curses on the black market.

But the real nail in the coffin was when she'd sold one of her curses to his crazy ex, knowing she was going to use it on him. And that was how Braxton Kirkwood's love life had ended up cursed.

His own mother didn't have even one shred of decency in her entire body, and now her son would pay for it for the rest of his life.

"Call her?" He let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. "Hell no."