Forever Summer - Melody Grace Page 0,82

wry tone. “If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, you never would have proposed.”

“I—” Noah started to disagree, then stopped himself. “Maybe not,” he said, still trying to get a handle on this new, ruthlessly honest woman.

“Are you kidding?” Caitlin gave him a smile. “We had ‘starter marriage’ written all over us. But this look on your face, right here? This seems like the real thing.”

“It was,” he replied, feeling the ache all over again. “But not for her, I guess.”

Caitlin winced. “Then it’s her loss.”

Noah gave a snort.

“Really.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man, Noah Montgomery. You’ll find someone.”

Noah squeezed back. “You too,” he said honestly. All the things they’d put each other through … well, that was ancient history, now. And maybe they’d always be bound by grief, by what might have been, but he had to tell himself it had worked out this way for a reason.

“And as for this girl of yours …,” Caitlin began, and Noah opened his mouth to stop her. Even if they’d found a way to make peace with their past, he wasn’t ready to talk about his future with her. Not yet.

Luckily, his phone buzzed in his pocket, giving him a reason to cut the conversation short. “It’s the station,” he said, checking the message. He got to his feet, suddenly in a hurry – and not just to escape this conversation. “A big fire across town, all hands on deck.”

Caitlin nodded. “It was good seeing you,” she said. “You take care, OK?”

“You too.”

Noah left the fire inspection paperwork at the front desk and headed out, still thinking over the unexpected run-in with Caitlin. She seemed well, and he was glad. Whatever dark place she’d spiraled to after their tragedy, she’d found a way back from it.

And so had he—with Evie’s help. She’d been the one to help free him from the last chains of guilt. She’d told him he deserved love, and for the first time in a long while, he’d believed her.

So why couldn’t she believe the same thing for herself?

20

Bunny Vanderberg arrived at the Beachcomber Inn in a cloud of lavender perfume and snooty disdain. “Well, this is certainly off the beaten track, isn’t it?” she said when Evie came to meet her on the front steps.

They were only five minutes from the highway, but Evie plastered on a wide, welcoming smile. “It’s such a secluded spot,” she said brightly. “You won’t hear anything but the sound of the ocean waves.”

“Hmm,” Bunny said, taking a look around over the rim of her designer sunglasses. She was in her seventies, maybe, but perfectly preserved, wearing a pastel twinset, slacks, and pearls. “We’ll see about that.”

“Do you have any bags?” Evie asked. “I’ll bring them in for you.”

“No bellboy?” Bunny asked, raising one sculpted eyebrow.

“Nope.” Evie kept smiling. “I like to give guests the personal touch.”

“Very well.” Bunny gestured. “They’re in the trunk. And I do hope you have organic bedding. The last place I stayed only had two-hundred-threadcount sheets, and I swear I’m developing a rash.”

She swanned inside before Evie could even respond.

OK then.

Evie hauled the oversized case from the trunk. It would have been too much to hope that Bunny was a warm, fuzzy kind of woman, primed to ooh and ahh over the Beachcomber in delight. No, Bunny was clearly the most feared and respected critic around for a reason—which just meant that when Evie wowed her, the praise would mean so much more.

Evie headed inside and found Bunny running a finger along the bannisters. Evie smiled. Let her try to find a spot of dust in the place; she’d been up since dawn, making sure every last detail was perfect.

It had given her something to do, at least, after another sleepless night with Noah on her mind.

“I have you in the Saltwater Suite,” Evie said, leading Bunny up the staircase. She’d decided to lean into the beach theme for the room names, at least. “It has our very best views of the water—and a lovely sunset view.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And here we are.” Evie opened the door wide, revealing a king-sized bed made up with fresh blue and white linens, an antique writing desk, and chic en suite bathroom. She checked Bunny’s expression for any sign of approval, but the older woman was frustratingly straight-faced as she stepped into the room and looked around.

There was silence.

Evie gulped. “You take your time settling in. I can give you the grand tour anytime you like.”

More silence.

“OK then! We