Page 6 of No Place Like Home
Her laugh escaped, and there was no shoving it back in. “Fine. A tour it is.” It couldn’t hurt. Maybe the company would be nice.
Behind them, Pearl hummed in approval. Cade seemed to ignore her. “Let me grab my keys. Wait here?” The concern in his eyes that maybe she wouldn’t was sweet.
She nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For now.
two
Cade had planned to check at least four things off his endless Magnolia Days to-do list, but giving Rosalyn a post-hurricane tour of Magnolia Bay could still count as productive, right? Maybe it’d make her say yes.
He watched the afternoon sun reflect off her golden hair and decided yes, yes it could.
“Your chariot.” He pulled the used golf cart he’d convinced his father to buy last year up to the curb in front of his office building, where Rosalyn waited next to a clump of bushes that had recently been trimmed back. The wind stirred her hair, wafting citrus toward him as she settled into the seat beside him.
“Wow. Such service.” She smoothed one hand over the dash, slightly buckled from the heat. “Do you treat all the ladies in the Bay like this?”
“Just the gimpy ones.” He pointed to her knee. “Do you remember Delia? She had hip surgery a while back and already called dibs for Magnolia Days if she’s still using a cane by then.”
“Of course I remember Mama D.” Rosalyn grabbed the handle overhead as Cade released the brake and pressed the gas. “I’m sorry she needed surgery though.”
“It was a good thing. She’ll be getting around a lot better soon, and the whole ordeal led to Elisa taking over the Magnolia Blossom diner.” Cade slowed at the approaching stop sign. Sun glinted and he pulled his sunglasses from the neck of his button-down and slid them on. Maybe Rosalyn wouldn’t notice him noticing her emerald-green eyes. “You’ll have to check out her new recipes.”
She nodded. “I remember Elisa. We probably haven’t seen each other since graduation.”
Cade steered them onto Village Lane. A warm breeze ruffled the loose hem of Rosalyn’s top and stirred her hair into her eyes.
She tugged a tie from her wrist and scooped her long tresses into a high ponytail, sending more citrus his way. “Everything is the same but different, isn’t it?”
“I guess it would seem that way, coming back here after so long.” He risked another glance her direction. The same could be said of her. Same ol’ Rosalyn…though maybe a little more graceful, elegant, poised than in school. But always capable. Whether it was writing a thesis, working through pages of trigonometry, or hanging upside down from multicolored silks, the girl—woman—had always been able to handle herself.
But the way Cade’s eyes kept gravitating to the curve of her jaw and to how her top lip dipped in the middle, well, that was certainly different. Reminded him of that night in the alley at the Lazy Spoon, after the Harvard versus Yale football?—
Thunk.
His left tire dipped into a crater in the pavement, jarring them back onto the road with a force that shook his teeth. “That’s one more thing I need to get fixed from the hurricane.”
“Ah.” Rosalyn’s elbow swung as she gripped the overhead handle. “Hence the circus?”
“Yep. One of manyhences. It’s hard to believe it’s almost been a year since the storm.” He attempted to see Magnolia Bay’s main drag through Rosalyn’s eyes. At the rows of colorful shops lining Village Lane, the tulip beds with petals turning crisp in the summer heat. “I know what you mean, though, about everything being the same yet different. There are these pockets of town that look like nothing ever happened, and then you turn a corner and realize there’s still plenty of damage lingering around the edges.”
Missing fence planks. Torn awnings. Mismatched, patched roofs awaiting their final restoration—restoration many couldn’t afford, given their various insurance situations. Not to mention the potholes now creeping up like extras in a zombie movie.
The knot of pressure that frequently aggravated Cade’s stomach pulled tighter as they drove around the caving concrete in front of Chug a Mug. “Man, this onehasgotten bad.” He gestured to the pothole, half-expecting to see Joseph standing in a coat of many colors. “Miley wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Miley?” Rosalyn asked.
“The Chug a Mug manager. Her dad is the owner, but she runs the place while he’s overseas on business.” He shot Rosalyn a sidelong glance. “Be sure to ask for weather reports before you order any coffee.”
“That’s a new one.” Rosalyn smiled. “I’ve heard of the weather affecting baked goods, but never coffee.”
“Not that kind of weather.” Cade chuckled. “You’ll see.”Ask her for coffee.The words stuck inside his mouth. But it wasn’t a date—he’d promised her a drink for the tour, right? “Do you want that coffee now? Or tea?”
“I’m actually okay—should probably lay off caffeine the rest of the day.” She smiled. “Thank you, though.”
See? That hadn’t been so hard.
Though technically hehadgotten turned down.
