Hometown Star - By Joleen James Page 0,57

miss you, too.”

“Call me if you miss your period,” Cade said. “I want to know, Star. Promise you’ll call.”

“I promise.” Star rose up on her toes and kissed him. “Goodbye, Cade.” She pulled her hands free and took a step away, but he snagged her arm, stopping her. Before she could protest, his mouth took hers, the kiss scattering Star’s wits. She clung to him, never wanting to let him go.

Then Cade broke the kiss. Without a word, he left her.

Star touched her lips, watching Cade and the kids until they disappeared from view. With an aching heart, she boarded the plane. Once seated, she opened the package the kids had given her. Inside was a beautiful drawing, a picture of Star, Cade, Finn, Emma, and Brad, standing in front of what could only be their big, Victorian house. Star ran her hand lovingly over the crayon drawing, missing them already. She thought about Cade and the kids the entire way home, and when she got too sad, she made herself think about her job, about the promotion she so wanted.

When she reached her condo, she let herself in, inhaled the scent of the new hardwood floors, the fresh paint, and then promptly burst into tears.

Chapter Seventeen

“You did a fabulous job in Alaska,” Frank said.

Star tossed her purse in her desk drawer, kicking it closed with a high heel. “Thanks. Did I miss anything good while I was gone?”

“Same old, same old here,” Frank said. “Vivienne didn’t return home with us from the Fairbanks segment. Rumor is she’s with some guy she met at a local bar.”

Star bit back a smile. “Really?”

“Yes. Who knew that she’d like the rugged outdoor type?”

“Who knew?” Star agreed, thinking she could say the same for herself. Thinking about Cade sobered her instantly.

Frank gave her a sideways look. “You okay?”

“Sure.” She’d never suffered heartache before, but she was pretty sure she had a case of it now. But she’d survive it. She’d survived much worse.

“You seem a little off,” Frank said. “Sad.”

Star forced a smile. “It wasn’t exactly a pleasure trip for me. I had to settle my aunt’s estate, remember?”

“Of course I do. Was it hard, going back?”

“Yes and no.” Star rifled through a stack of papers on her desk. “When do you leave for Alaska?”

“Sunday morning.”

She nodded. “What’s next for me?”

“Finish up Bigger, Bolder, Brighter, then it’s on to a tree house. Up north. Canada.”

“A tree house?” Star echoed, intrigued. “Canada? Anywhere near Vancouver?” She thought of her mom and John. Maybe she could visit if they were near the shoot.

“A little more north than that. The tree house is rough. Bare bones. We are going to turn it into something spectacular. You leave two weeks from today.”

“Sounds interesting,” she said, still thinking about her mom, wondering if she could at least take a side trip through Vancouver.

Frank tossed a file on her desk. “Read up on it. You’ll be working with Carrie Shaw on this one.”

Carrie Shaw was a favorite designer of Star’s. Carrie loved architecture as much as Star did. “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Stop by my office after you’ve had a chance to catch up and we can chat more about the tree house.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Frank.”

Star spent the morning sifting through her mail and organizing her desk. Before lunch she downloaded the rest of the pictures from her camera into a file marked Alaska Men.

She clicked through the images, starting with the Fairbanks house, then the Anchorage house, and finally the Seward house. There were three hundred photos of Evan’s place.

Frank walked by, poking his head into her office. “Lunch?”

“I’d love some.” Star was about to click out of the folder when Frank said, “Are those the Alaska houses?”

“Yes.”

“Let me have a peek.”

“I’ve already sent you most of these,” Star said, clicking through the images. “Here’s Evan’s house, see?”

Star clicked. Cade’s house filled the screen.

Frank leaned closer. “Wait, what’s this?”

“The O’Brien place,” Star told him. “They own the land my aunt’s trailer sat on.” Star’s heart lurched at the thought of Patsy’s place no longer sitting on that land.

“More. I want to see more,” Frank said, his face lighting up. “This house is fabulous.”

“It’s a great old Victorian,” Star told him, catching his enthusiasm. She’d taken a lot of photos of the house, both exterior and interior.

“Who’s that?” Frank asked when a picture of Cade filled the screen.

“Cade O’Brien. He owns the house.” A wave of longing hit her full force. Her fingers tightened on the mouse. Was