The Moonglow Sisters - Lori Wilde Page 0,81

kept it exotic with her kitemaking adventure in Japan.

The healing had begun in earnest.

On the holiday weekend of the pop-up store opening, everything ran like a well-oiled machine, thanks to Madison’s organizational chart. Shelley’s assignment was to cater to their guests and give morning yoga classes on the beach. Mike and Madison, with help from the Chamber of Commerce and the Quilting Divas, ran the pop-up store. Gia gave kite lessons and flying demonstrations, while Darynda manned the kitchen, feeding the volunteers.

When the long weekend was over, their guests departed raving about the Moonglow Inn and promised a five-star Yelp review. Shelley had been offered a job teaching yoga at the local studio. Gia had sold every single kite she had in her inventory, leaving only Mike’s blue fish and her pink dragon of the kites she’d spent a year amassing in Japan. It was gratifying to see her artwork flying the skies of Moonglow Cove.

Most important of all, they’d earned enough to not only pay off all Grammy’s debt, but to also repay Madison for her investment in the back payments to keep the inn out of foreclosure.

They celebrated with champagne on the back porch at sunset on Sunday night. To top off the victorious event, the head nurse at the rehab hospital called to say that Grammy could come home in a week.

That glorious news spurred an impromptu party with Shelley cranking up the sound system and creating a playlist. She spun Madison around on the porch to “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves” by the Eurythmics and Aretha Franklin.

Mike held out his hand to Gia and they joined the dancing as the music shifted into “Ocean Eyes” by Billie Eilish.

He pulled her close to the slow song and whispered, “I love falling into your ocean eyes.”

Gia’s pulse quickened. Her body was exhausted from the pace of the past four days, but her spirit, oh, it soared to the sky as surely as one of her kites.

He rested his forehead on hers and she went cross-eyed staring into him. His blue eyes transfixed her hazel ones. They’d stopped moving and were just standing there peering deeply at each other, Mike clasping her hands in his, his mouth so close, his breath warm and fruity with the smell of champagne.

“Hey, you two,” Shelley hollered from where she’d collapsed into one of the rocking chairs. “Get a room.”

Gia stepped back, heart pounding. This was it. The time she should tell her sisters they weren’t really engaged. Things had been going so well. Everyone was working so hard on forgiving and letting go of the past. They’d forgive her. Of that she felt certain.

But there was still the wedding quilt to finish.

And then Mike cocked his head, smiled softly, and whispered, “Do you want to come home with me?”

Gia slipped her hand into the palm Mike extended toward her.

“We won’t wait up,” Madison said.

“Be here on the porch at nine tomorrow morning to finish Grammy’s quilt,” Gia called over her shoulder, not bothering to turn around to look at them as Mike led her down the steps and across the lawn toward his house. The hem of her dress swayed softly against her bare legs. “Both of you.”

“Have fun!” Shelley called.

Gia grinned in the dark, her blood pumping hot and sticky through her veins. Maybe the champagne had gone straight to her head, but she was all in. She had no idea what she was getting herself into, only that she was mad excited about it.

Sweet, sweet, yes.

The moon was rising, a full and magnificent beach ball above the dark waters of the ocean. Pay attention, it seemed to say. See . . . truly see . . . the ephemeral beauty of this glorious moment. Listen to the waves. Hear the seagulls call. Please yourself, Gia. Do what feels right.

They climbed over the small stone wall, hand in hand. Mike led her to the cozy little bungalow cottage wreathed in vines and greenery. The house had a gabled roof straight out of a fairy tale. It was whimsical and inviting. A hand-carved bench sat on the front porch and the scent of hedge honeysuckles filled the air.

She hesitated at the steps.

Mike stopped. Said nothing, just waited for her. Patiently. As if he’d happily wait a lifetime for her if necessary.

The moment hung suspended, quivering like the moon glinting off the water.

Likewise, Gia quivered, dangled, caught in the moonglow.

It was a sudden utopia, unexpected and transient. A gingerbread house. A storybook

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