The Cinnamon Bun Book Store (Dream Harbor, #2)(67)

She hadn’t expected to learn so much about herself just by being around him.

She hadn’t intended to do the most reckless thing of all. And she certainly hadn’t expected to fall in love.

‘Have faith, ladies,’ Jeanie said, getting up from the couch and stretching her arms over her head.

‘Easy for you to say,’ Annie said.

‘Have you talked to Mac lately?’ Jeanie teased as the two headed out of the office.

‘How dare you?!’

Jeanie’s laugh filtered back to the office. Hazel got up and followed them out to the front of the shop. Alex was behind the register. They had a romance novel in their hands.

‘Hey, Hazel. This book is marked up. What should we do with it?’

Jeanie and Annie simultaneously froze.

‘A clue!’ Jeanie’s eyes were bright with excitement.

The three of them ran to the counter, but Hazel was fast when she wanted to be.

‘I’ll take it!’

Alex assessed them with surprised amusement. ‘Okaaay...’

‘Open it. Open it!’ Jeanie was giddy beside her.

‘You guys are acting weirder than usual,’ Alex said, even as they also leaned over the book. Hazel opened it to the dog-eared page. It was a diary entry and the only highlighted line was the date.

September 28th.

Hazel’s birthday.

In the margins was a note.

Mac’s. 7:00, bring friends.

‘A grand finale,’ Annie breathed.

Jeanie clapped. ‘I told you!’

‘Weird,’ Alex muttered.

Hazel let out a deep breath and tried to control the erratic swooping of her stomach.

She turned thirty in four days.

And it seemed someone was throwing her a party.

Was it too early to make a birthday wish about the identity of the host?





Chapter Twenty-Six





Hazel’s text came at the perfect moment. Noah was desperately in need of a distraction. He was at the Dream Harbor Public Library attempting to print out the proper forms for a building permit, a historical site designation form, a town petition to run a business from the beach and others that he wasn’t even sure he needed to or not.

He needed help.

He should ask for some.

He was incredibly stubborn in that area so instead he checked his phone.

Got another clue today.





Oh?





Yep.





Noah waited. He tapped his fingers on the table until the older woman across from him started glaring.

‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.

So are you going to tell me what it said?





Typing bubbles appeared and disappeared several times while he waited.

I think it was an invite to a birthday party.





Cool. Can I be your date?





The response was quicker this time.

Sure.





Good. Can’t wait.





More bubbles appeared and disappeared, making him wonder what Hazel was typing and deleting. Was she dreading her birthday as much as he was? Did she expect things to be over between them after the party?

He needed to talk to her.

For real.

He needed to lay it all out there.

But not over text.

Whatever Hazel had been typing and deleting she never sent. A few minutes later he got the details for the day of her birthday and that was it. He was alone again, drowning in paperwork and design plans for the other houses.

It was like school all over again but worse this time. Worse because he’d already screwed up so many times and he just needed this plan to work. Worse because he’d convinced himself he needed this to prove to Hazel that he was worth her time. If Hazel wanted him, he’d be back in Dream Harbor as soon as Rachel was feeling better. If Hazel wanted him, he’d build a million of these tiny houses, paperwork included.

He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. He’d rather be working on the houses, hammering and painting and actually doing something. This was the shit he’d run away from before and somehow he’d ended up back here frustrated by paperwork.

Maybe if he’d finished school...

Maybe if he’d gone to college...

Maybe if he’d tried to actually learn something from his parents...

Maybe if he wasn’t such a screw-up...

A failure...

He stood up suddenly, enough that the woman across from him looked up with a surprised scowl.

‘Sorry,’ he whispered again, stacking his papers and grabbing his phone. He had to get out of here. He needed a break. He’d almost learned to block out that voice that criticized him so harshly, the one that had kept him away from home and his family for so long. But sometimes it crept back in.

He used to think it was his dad’s voice, but lately it was sounding a lot like his own.

He made his way through what could only be described as a herd of toddlers heading toward story time and out into the fresh air of the afternoon. It was cool today, fall weather starting to push out summer’s heat. A few early trees had even started to turn yellow around the edges. His tours had started to slow down and in another week he’d be back home, crashing on Rachel’s couch. He always felt melancholy as the weather changed, but this year the feeling was magnified. The end of summer, the end of long, hot days, the end of his time with the sexy bookseller.