Scottie leaned over the table and said in a stage whisper, “You had sex!”

  “Oh my God, how could you possibly know that?” Adley whispered back, looking around the diner to make sure nobody heard them.

  Scottie sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee, her grin huge, looking far too pleased with herself. Their eye contact held, as if they were in some kind of a standoff. Finally, Adley sighed, but with a big smile on her face. She couldn’t help it.

  “And?” Scottie asked. “How was it?”

  Adley did an all-over full-body shudder, big smile still in place. “Amazing. Wonderful. Hot. Sexy. Thrilling. So many things.”

  Kitty returned then and took their orders. Omelets for both. When she’d turned and moved to another table, Scottie was looking at Adley. Studying her.

  “What?” Adley asked. “What’s that look for?”

  Scottie sighed quietly and set her coffee down. Forearms on the table, she leaned forward slightly. “I’m just worried about you. That’s all.”

  “I thought you’d be happy for me. You’re the one who’s always saying how I work too much, I spend too much time at the shop, I don’t get out enough. Now…” Adley lifted one shoulder. “Now, I might’ve met somebody special.”

  “Who doesn’t even live here,” Scottie pointed out. “Who isn’t staying. Who’s supposed to be just a physical release. Remember?” She sat back again. “I just don’t want you to get hurt is all.”

  Adley couldn’t be mad about that, could she? Scottie was looking out for her, had only her best interests in mind. She knew that. “I get it. I hear you. I do. But for right now? I just want to ride this high a bit longer. Okay?”

  Scottie looked like she wanted to protest, hesitated for a second, but ultimately nodded. “Okay. I can back off. As long as you know that I stress about this for you.”

  Adley grinned. “Sweetie, I’ve known you almost my entire life, and I stress is your life’s motto.” Scottie’s childhood had been messy, and now her divorced parents were each remarried with other children, and she often found herself overlooked or even forgotten. Adley tipped her head to one side and softened. “I hear you. I promise.”

  “Okay. Good. That’s all I ask.”

  When their breakfasts came, they were back to normal, chatting about Jaden, Marisa’s nephew she’d been raising since the death of her brother. They chatted about Scottie’s salon and how good business was, and Adley told her she had a couple ideas for new flavors. And all the while, her mind flashed back to the previous night. To that morning. To any and all the times she’d spent with Sabrina so far, and she’d get a tingle that started somewhere around her stomach and worked its way down.

  “Marisa and I have been looking at houses,” Scottie said, and that got Adley’s attention.

  “What? You are? Since when?”

  Scottie’s entire demeanor softened, the way it always did when she talked about the future with Marisa. Adley was always so happy to see her best friend so happy, but she also always felt a little pang of envy. She loved what Scottie and Marisa had. She wanted what Scottie and Marisa had. “We sort of danced around it for a few weeks, but I think it started—at least for me—about a month and a half ago. I mean…” Scottie looked down at her plate, pushed her eggs around for a moment, and when she looked up, her eyes were wet. “She’s the one. Capital T, capital O. You know? I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s it. She’s it for me.”

  Adley reached across the table and closed her hand over Scottie’s forearm. She hoped her happiness was clear as she squeezed. “You deserve the best, Scooter. I’m so glad you found it. Especially after talking to my sister.”

  “Oh God, that’s right. How did that go? What’d she say?”

  Adley reiterated the story Brody had told her, talked about all the things she’d said were missing in her marriage. When she finished the story, she set down her fork. “Honestly? It kind of colored my whole view on happily ever after. I thought she and her husband were great role models. Just goes to show that none of us really knows what goes on in other people’s relationships.”

  “Ugh. So true.”

  “But you and Marisa have given me hope.”

  Scottie laughed. “Glad to hear it.” Then her expression grew serious. “Don’t give up, Ads, okay? There’s somebody out there for you.”

  Adley noticed the clarity with which she didn’t mention that maybe it was Sabrina, and she had to consciously tell herself not to get upset about it. It likely wasn’t Sabrina. How could it be? She lived in Atlanta, many states away. She traveled all over the country. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. They were basically fuck buddies, to put it bluntly, a situation she’d agreed to.

  So why couldn’t she stop thinking about her?

  * * *

  “Oh my God.”

  Sabrina sat at the dining room table, laptop open, papers scattered all over, and read the screen. It never occurred to her to find the website for Get the Scoop because she had the address and a brief synopsis of the shop, its best-selling products, hours of operations, and such from the email sent to her from the home office. She had no reason to find the website.

  Until now.

  “Ooh, it fucking figures,” she muttered, as she sat with her head in both hands and stared at the sentence on the screen under the heading About us.

  Get the Scoop is owned and operated by its third generation of the Purcell family, Adley Purcell. Call the number below or use the message box below to contact her with questions, party needs, or details on upcoming new and exciting flavors!

  “Oh my God,” Sabrina said for about the thirtieth time since seeing the logo on Adley’s pink hoodie.

  What the hell was she going to do?

  That was the question. It stayed with her all day, reverberating through her head when she was driving. While she sat through a meeting and listened to Bryce Carter go on and on about how easy it was going to be for Sweet Heaven to take over the ice cream business in Northwood. While she went to the new site and walked around, listening to the foreman tell her what would happen there over the next two to three weeks.

  And while she flashed back on the previous night. The images of a naked Adley beneath her, above her, beside her. Of her dark, hooded eyes, of the sexy sounds she made, of her sure touch and the way she could shift from letting Sabrina have control to taking it herself. Their night—and morning—had been sexier and more satisfying than any experience she’d had in a very long time. Years, even. She liked Adley. She liked her a lot. She liked her too much.

  And then she heard her mother’s voice. “Business is business, Sabrina. Business is not personal.” She’d said that once a year or two ago when Sabrina had accused her of seeming a bit too happy to help create a Sweet Heaven monopoly in the smaller cities they’d infiltrated. Big cities were harder, but something the size of Northwood, New York? Sweet Heaven could easily run the smaller shops right out of business.

  What the hell was she going to do now?

  Without even thinking for longer than a second, she grabbed her phone and texted Teagan.

  Not 911, but important. Call asap?

  She didn’t want to interrupt Teagan’s entire day, but she was spiraling here and needed something to ground her.

  Her phone rang less than a minute later.

  “Hey, what’s up? You okay?” Teagan’s voice was smooth. Steady. Like a tether that suddenly had her and kept her from floating off into oblivion. Sabrina immediately felt herself relax.

  “Yeah, I’m okay, but…” And then something weird happened. For the first time that she could remember since splitting up with Teagan and settling into a wonderful friendship, she lied to them. “I’m just being weird. It’s okay. Never mind.”

  “Bri.” That one syllable had always been able to force her to spill whatever it was that was bothering her. But this time? She kept her jaw clamped tight, so tight it made her face ache. “You sound weird.”

  She forced a light laugh. “I’m fine. Just…Mom stuff again. You know how it goes.” Another light chuckle. There you go. Make it seem silly and inconsequential. “Ignore me.”

  “If you’re sure…?” Teagan didn’t sound convinced, but then Sabrina heard a voice in the background calling them. Kyra needing something.

  “Totally sure. Go. Take care of your wife.”

  “Okay, but I’m calling you later.”

  That was fine. It would give her enough time to come up with a lie to tell Teagan that would satisfy them. Sabrina set the phone down and blew out a long, slow breath. “Business is business,” she whispered. “Business is not personal.”

  She dropped her head into her hands. “Yeah, I bet Adley Purcell would disagree.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lakeside again?

  Adley read the text over and over, not ready to hit Send. “Hmm,” she said aloud to nobody. “Can’t assume.” She made some changes.

  Thinking of sitting by the lake at dusk.

  That was better. Just a statement of fact. She squinted at it. Typed some more.

  If you get bored, that’s where I’ll be. FYI…

  Yeah, that was better. Even though she wanted to assume that, now that they’d slept together, things had maybe changed a bit, she also knew assumptions could be dangerous. But it was Thursday, and she hadn’t seen Sabrina since their Sunday night together and subsequent morning after, and she was having withdrawal. They’d texted some, but Sabrina had said her job had kicked into high gear, whatever that meant, and again, this not talking about their jobs was just silly. She was going to fix that tonight at the lake. She’d decided.

  “You’re humming.” Mandy’s voice startled her enough to make her flinch, and she glanced up into her employee’s face.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You. You’re humming. It’s new. It’s…weird.” Mandy grabbed a bunch of waffle cones Adley had made that morning, and as she was headed back to the front of the shop, she turned to regard Adley. “You’re okay?”

  Adley smiled. “I’m great. Thanks for asking.”

  With a nod, Mandy was gone.

  The rest of the day went by smoothly, happily. At one point in the afternoon, she realized Mandy was right, she was humming. Some happy little made-up tune, nonlinear, nonsensical. Just humming and smiling.

  Mandy was also right—it was weird. But in the best of ways.

  When things started to die down a bit at the Scoop, around seven thirty, she grabbed the cooler, the picnic basket, and the bottle of wine she’d stashed in the refrigerator earlier. Mandy was going to lock up tonight, so she quickly changed into a T-shirt that didn’t smell like waffle cones and didn’t have ice cream stains on it, brushed out her hair, refreshed her mascara and lip gloss, and headed out to her car. Still humming.

  The evening was a gorgeous, early-summer-in-upstate-New-York kind of night. Cool, but not cold. Still too early for tons of bugs—they’d show up in a few weeks, along with the super uncomfortable humidity that people not from the Northeast didn’t think the Northeast actually got. She smiled, thinking about how Sabrina, being from Atlanta, was probably very well-acquainted with humidity. They didn’t call it Hotlanta for nothing.

  There were more people at the lakeshore than last time, but still not a ton. Adley found a spot in a far corner, where they were away from the other cars but could still see the lake. She backed into the spot, then hopped out and popped the trunk. In about fifteen minutes, she had two chairs set up with the cooler between them, acting as a makeshift table. On top, she spread out the mini-charcuterie board she’d made. Sharp Vermont cheddar, Manchego, and smoked Gouda sat alongside some prosciutto and spicy pepperoni. She had crackers and a red pepper tapenade, some stuffed grape leaves, and big green olives stuffed with Gorgonzola. Probably way too much, but she was going for impressive here.

  The plan had been to wait until Sabrina showed up before opening the wine, but Adley felt a little bit of that sizzle of nerves, so she uncorked the buttery chardonnay and sat down to watch the water and wait for Sabrina.

  People walked by from either direction, some strolling along the shore, some on the paved path that circled Black Cherry Lake. There was a picnic table about twenty-five yards from where she sat, where a woman and twin girls were hanging out, blowing and chasing bubbles. Adley smiled as she sipped her wine, watching the girls as they squealed and jumped, clapping at the bubbles the woman—their mom?—blew for them. Then she sighed. She wanted kids. Badly. It was something she’d always wanted, to be a mother. At thirty-four, her clock wasn’t exactly ticking yet, but it would be close in another year or two.

  And then, of course, her mind wandered over into Sabrina Land again, and she wondered if she wanted kids, wondered what kind of mother she had, what kind she’d be, how they’d be as parents together…

  “Oh my God, stop,” she muttered to herself. Because she was straying into dangerous territory now. Sabrina wasn’t her girlfriend. They were fuck buddies at best, and she hated the term, but it was accurate. It was what they’d agreed to.

  Did she want them to be more?

  A sigh, because she had to sit with that one for a bit.

  She hadn’t signed on for more than the physical. She had zero idea if Sabrina had any of these same thoughts. The woman wasn’t from here. For love of all that is holy, stop this train of thought. Right now, her brain screamed at her, but hopping off said train was hard. She focused on the little girls again, who were now looking for rocks, if Adley’d heard them correctly. Their blond hair was in matching ponytails, and their little flowered shorts matched. One girl had a purple shirt and the other pink. They were probably four or five years old and had those little-girl laughs that sounded like tinkling glass. It wasn’t long, though, before their grown-up was packing up their stuff and telling them they needed to get home because it was past their bedtime. That comment prompted Adley to glance at her phone.

  Eight forty-five.

  No texts.

  Sabrina must be working late.

  She’d been nursing her wine but now took a healthy gulp. The cheese was getting soft from being out in the open, and the pepperoni had gone a little shiny. She cut a piece of the cheddar and topped a cracker with it, then popped it into her mouth. Chewing slowly and watching the water was what she did for the next twenty or so minutes, trying to give Sabrina a little more time. But when her phone read nine fifteen and she still hadn’t heard, she sighed and started to pack things up.

  So much for a romantic evening at the lake that might lead to something else.

  There was hurt. She admitted that to herself, then was immediately annoyed. Sabrina didn’t owe her anything. Yes, they’d slept together, but they’d made it pretty clear what this was—physical release for two very busy people who were attracted to each other.

  “How busy can I be if I found time to make a charcuterie picnic at the lake?” she muttered as she shut the trunk, then was instantly mad at herself. “Oh my God, stop it. You have no right to be mad.”

  And she wasn’t mad. But she was stung. A little bit. With a sigh, she got into the driver’s seat and started the car, then sat there for a quiet moment. It had gone fully dark and the lights from different locations around the lake twinkled happily. She picked up her phone and typed.

  You missed a beautiful night on the lake…

  No. She wasn’t allowed to guilt Sabrina. That wasn’t fair. She deleted and tried again.

  Sorry to have missed you. Next time. Sweet dreams…

  She read it over and over. Nine words and she went over them three times that. Finally deciding it was a good, kind, honest message, she hit Send.

  She blew out a long, slow breath of disappointment and shifted the car into gear.

  * * *

  “You are a fucking coward.”

  Sabrina stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Glared at it. Pointed at it.

  “A fucking coward.”

  Adley’s text had come just before nine thirty. Sabrina hadn’t been busy. Well, she had been—she’d had paperwork spread out all over the dining room table and her laptop open—but she wasn’t doing anything that couldn’t be set aside. She could’ve gone to the lake. Absolutely. She wanted to go to the lake. But there was no way she could be around Adley now and not tell her who she worked for, except she didn’t know how to do that. It wasn’t guaranteed that Sweet Heaven would put Get the Scoop out of business, but it was certainly a possibility. Especially if the public records were correct. Get the Scoop was struggling financially, its yearly profits decreasing a bit over the past three years. That made her feel worse because she wanted to help.

  It was now after eleven and she hadn’t texted Adley back. Such a fucking coward.

  God, how did this get so complicated?

  She clicked the light off and headed toward her bedroom. The day had been lovely, and the night was the same. Adley had been right—it would’ve been perfect for sitting by the lake. Maybe with a little wine. Some cheese or something. She slid under the covers of the bed that wasn’t hers in the house that wasn’t hers and sighed as she reached for the bedside lamp and clicked it off. And before she even realized it was coming, her eyes welled up.

  “Oh, come on,” she whispered to the dark of the empty room. But the feeling didn’t abate, so she let it come, then lay there as hot tears slid sideways from her eyes into her hair and waited them out.

  She had to tell Adley. No, they didn’t owe each other anything, but she owed her that. She did.

  Feeling slightly better about the decision, she rolled onto her side and waited for sleep that avoided her for pretty much the entire night.

  She tossed and turned for the next six hours and logged maybe a total of two hours of sleep within them. By five thirty in the morning, she gave up and decided to do something she hadn’t done in weeks: take a run. She’d chosen this particular Airbnb for its location. She could walk to the hip Jefferson Square—get a feel for the public in Northwood, what was popular and what times of the day—and the site for the new Sweet Heaven location wasn’t far from there. It was a lovely sixty degrees, so she donned leggings and a closely fitting T-shirt, pulled on socks and sneakers, and grabbed her earbuds. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, did not nearly enough stretches, and headed out.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26