was the little things he did every day that made her feel special, though they might not fit other people’s ideas of romance, that were becoming the very definition of it for Chloe. He made coffee for them in the mornings, and he walked her to her car before work. At night they sometimes talked for hours, and they didn’t harp on the past, which was nice. She knew she could talk about it if she wanted to, but there was no reason to dwell on ugly memories when their new ones were so beautiful. They talked about their lives—simple things like what they did during the day or what they hoped to do next week, next month, or next year. They discussed the complexities of their lives, too, like the programs she was developing and the ways in which Justin and Blaine were thinking about expanding their business. Justin told her about his visits with Mike when he checked in on him in the afternoons, how he feared losing him too soon. They visited Shadow nearly every day, and they both confessed how much they loved the pooch.
As she turned into the driveway toward the old Victorian inn overlooking Cape Cod Bay, she realized this was where it had all started for them.
She drove past the cottage that Desiree and Violet used as an art gallery, which had been damaged in the same storm that had brought Chloe and Justin to a near kiss. The cottage repairs were still under way. She parked in front of Summer House, and before she could open the car door, Justin was there, opening it for her. Romance at its best. He was always thinking of her, and she was falling for him, tumbling down that scary hill, and she didn’t want to slow down.
“This is where it all started, remember?” she said as she climbed from the car. “I was having breakfast with the girls when you came riding in on your motorcycle to save Violet from big, bad Andre.”
He drew her into his arms, just as he did every chance he got, and kissed her. “That was the day we were first introduced, but what I remember most is the first time I showed up to have breakfast with everyone. I’ll never forget the hunger in your eyes when you looked across the table and told me that the bagels and muffins I’d brought from the Blue Willow Bakery made me even hotter.”
She loved his elephantlike memory. “Is that why you wanted to stop at that bakery this morning for bagels and muffins?”
“My girl thinks bagels and muffins make me hotter. I’d be a fool not to hit that mark every chance I got.” He kissed her and said, “I’m thinking about buying the frigging bakery.”
She laughed and went to retrieve the goodies from the car, bending at the waist as she reached into the back seat. Justin moved behind her and placed his hands on her hips, pressing himself against her ass. She glared at him over her shoulder, unable to hide her smile. “Stop.” She grabbed the bakery box, and as she closed the car door with her hip, she said, “They’ll know why we’re late if you get me hot and bothered again.”
“I guarantee they already know why we’re late, babe. You can’t be around us and not feel our fireworks.” He took the box from her and put one arm around her waist. He kissed her neck and said, “Speaking of fireworks, you’re mine on July Fourth, right?”
“I’m always yours,” she said, reveling in how good it felt to say that.
“Good, because I’ll never get enough of you, sweet thing. The downside to that is knowing that while you’re giving my family the tour of LOCAL this afternoon, all I will be able to think about is bending you over your desk.”
Her body flamed at the thought. “Justin! Now that’s all I’ll be thinking about, too!”
He chuckled as they walked across the grass toward the inn. It was a warm sunny morning, and their friends’ voices carried in the air.
“This is a momentous occasion,” he said more seriously. “Our first breakfast as a couple with the Real Housewives of Bayside.”
They weren’t housewives, but they were gossips. “After how much I gushed over you to the girls at dinner last night, I’m sure all of Wellfleet knows we’re together.” As Chloe and her friends had planned after the last book club meeting, she’d met them at Common Grounds