Hometown Valentine

Wow. As if he needed to get any better looking.

He went on. “Even a little break was great, and I’ll definitely be using your swing technique.”

She swallowed and tried not to gawk. “You’re welcome,” she managed, somehow sounding completely unaffected by him. When had she become such a good fake-out artist?

Blake flipped the towel down and began wiping the counter in front of her, bending just a tad closer. “Again, if the kid I hired doesn’t work out, I’ll call.”

She picked up the drinks, glad they had lids. “Okay, sounds great.” She lifted one drink-laden hand. “Bye.”

With that she turned and headed to the front door, where Mrs. De Marco waited, sure she would never hear from Blake Stonely ever again.

And given her unwanted reaction to him, that was probably for the best.

* * *

Blake covertly watched Lily and Mrs. De Marco as they walked away. After a brief discussion, Lily grabbed her umbrella from the holder by the door with her free hand and then followed Mrs. De Marco out. Before the door could even close, Lily had the umbrella up and over the elderly woman to keep her from getting wet.

Blake watched them walk left, presumably toward Mrs. De Marco’s car. He couldn’t help but be impressed by Lily Rogers. She’d jumped in to help him out, and had also been quick in assisting Mrs. De Marco. He liked her. From afar, of course. And there was no harm in that.

Once the ladies were out of view, he turned and began putting clean coffee mugs in their place. But his thoughts remained on Lily. She’d looked younger than his own age of thirty-one, but she had to be close to that age to have brothers in college who were nine years younger than she. He’d noticed that she was tall and slender with long chestnut-hued hair and a pale, smooth complexion devoid of much makeup. Very pretty, in a natural, girl-next-door kind of way.

What a refreshing change after Amy, who’d spent a good hour in the morning getting ready for work and was always shopping for the latest makeup products and clothes in Manhattan, where they’d both lived and worked. He’d guess she spent a good portion of her lawyer’s paycheck on makeup, her expensive car and clothes every month.

Just the thought of his former fiancée had Blake’s hackles rising. He let out a breath, searching for calm. Had he really lived that high-flying lifestyle once? It seemed five lifetimes ago, though in reality he’d left New York just under a year and a half ago.

Left New York. The burn of failure spread through him, hollowing out his gut as it always did. He couldn’t bomb out again.

He looked around The Cabana and his resolve wavered. Though he’d had a spurt of customers this morning, overall business wasn’t good and the shop was hovering on the edge of red. And now with Peyton to take care of, he was wondering how he was going to make it all work.

How was he going to keep the wolf away this time?

Just the thought of failing again filled him with dread, and made him wonder if he’d done the right thing by following Anna to Moonlight Cove when his job had gone bust in New York. It had seemed like the perfect plan to Blake: move to Moonlight Cove, live in the same town with Jim and Fran, and Anna, too, who had moved to Moonlight Cove three years earlier to be close to Jim and Fran, as well. His family. Small but perfect.

But now Anna was gone.

A wave of grief washed over him and he felt his eyes burn.

His downward spiral of emotions was interrupted when the buzzer over the door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. Blake looked up.

A group of five ladies he didn’t recognize—tourists, he figured—came in and ordered, keeping his hands busy for the next little while, and his mind focused on the here and now.

Just as they all sat at a table by the window, drinks in hand, two more customers came in. He recognized Jeb Campbell, who ran the local hardware store, and Myra Fleming, the local librarian. He got them their drinks, and very quickly the bell over the door was going off again. Maybe all this business was a sign of busy times to come.

Blake looked up from making a fresh pot of brew and saw Jim Wilson, his foster father, come in, his trademark baseball cap in his hands—he’d always been a stickler for manners. Jim’s gray hair was, as usual, cut military short and neat. He wore a pair of worn jeans and a green windbreaker, and had a large square bandage on his right cheek. Jim was in treatment for a relapse of skin cancer and had just had a biopsy yesterday. Just the thought of losing someone else filled Blake with heartrending grief.

“Hey. What are you doing up and about?” Blake said as Jim headed to the counter. “I know for a fact you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Aw, don’t you start,” Jim said, waving a hand. “Fran’s been all over me to take it easy, and she knows I hate just lyin’ around.” Fran was Jim’s wife of forty years and one of the most wonderful, kindhearted women Blake knew. He’d been blessed with fantastic foster parents. Having no kids of their own, Fran and Jim, Blake’s freshman math teacher, had taken Blake and Anna in out of the goodness of their very big hearts when Blake and Anna’s mom had died of a drug overdose during Blake’s freshman year. Blake and Anna’s dad had walked out when Anna was just a few months old.

“That’s because she cares about you, and because you’re a stubborn old goat when it comes to taking care of yourself.”

“I know. I just needed some fresh air, so I thought I’d come down here and get me a cup of your strongest brew.”

“Coming right up.” Blake turned and went to the special pot of straight black coffee he kept just for all of the older customers who weren’t interested in frothy drinks and just wanted a good old-fashioned cup of hot joe. He poured, expecting to see sludge ooze out at any moment. To each his own.

He set the cup of goo in front of Jim.

As usual, Jim went for his wallet.

“It’s on the house,” Blake said per tradition, waiting for the dialogue that always followed.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Blake said, taking comfort in the reliability of their discussion.

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“Okay, then.” Jim picked up the cup and drank. He sighed heavily. “Oh, yeah, just what I needed on such a wet, cold day, especially since Fran only serves decaf.”

“You still telling her that’s what I always give you?”

“Maybe,” Jim said with a quirk of his lips.

“If she asks me, I’ll tell the truth.” Blake’s mom had lied to him and Anna all the time about anything and everything; he hated falsehoods, even harmless ones.

“I’d expect nothing less.” Jim looked around. “Place seems busy.”

“Right now,” Blake replied, his jaw tight. Jim knew the business was struggling. Though The Coffee Cabana was the only stand-alone coffee store in town, for some reason the locals weren’t coming in as much as Blake had planned. He did okay in the summer, when the tourist business was good. But it wasn’t enough to sustain the business all year.

“Overall, though?” Jim asked, his blue eyes intent.

“Still not good.” Blake swung around and turned on the sink’s faucet.

“My offer is still open.”

“I’m not taking your money.” Jim had offered a loan a few months ago, and Blake had turned him down then. “You’ve already done enough for me.” Saved his and Anna’s lives, actually. He couldn’t ask for anything more from him and Fran.

“You’re determined to make this place work on your own, aren’t you?” Jim asked, his hands hugging his coffee cup.

“Yes, I am.” Blake turned off the faucet. “I failed once. I’m not letting it happen a second time.”

“I know, I know.” Jim nodded. “I was just hoping that maybe you’d reconsider, especially now that you’ve got Peyton to think about.”

Blake set his hands on the counter and leaned in. “It’s been a challenge, handling her and the store, but I’m going to make it work.” What other choice did he have? He had to do right by Anna and take care of Peyton, and letting go of The Cabana was out of the question.

“You sure you don’t want me and Fran to pitch in?”

“You’re on medical leave fighting cancer, and Fran works full-time.” Fran was a bookkeeper for a local business. “I can’t impose on you.”

“I guess I was just thinking when you moved here we’d be able to help out more.”

“You have helped out, more than anybody else has ever helped me.” Blake went over to the bakery case and grabbed a marionberry muffin, Jim’s favorite, then went back to the counter. “But I have to do this by myself to prove I can succeed on my own.” He pulled a plate out from an undercounter shelf, put the muffin on it and set it down in front of Jim. He just stared at Jim, one eyebrow raised, daring him to try to pay for it.

“I know, but we’d still like to jump in however we can.”

“Not necessary.”

Without saying a word, Jim peeled off the paper liner and took a bite. When he was done chewing, he looked at Blake. “Are you ever going to forgive yourself for what happened in New York?”

“I made a bad call and not only lost all I’d worked so hard for, I also lost some of my clients’ money.” Blake drew in a steadying breath, trying to breathe around the lump forming in his throat. “I’m not sure that’s something I’m ever going to be okay with.” Getting that pink slip had been the bitter icing on the cake.

“You have to forgive yourself before you can move on,” Jim said, his eyes full of empathy.

“I know,” Blake said. This wasn’t the first time he and Jim had had this conversation. “And that sounds easy.” Deceptively so.

“But it isn’t.”

“Right.” Blake had thought rebounding from the debacle of his life in New York would be the most difficult thing he’d ever have to do. Now he realized trying to run a business while being responsible for a baby would hold that place of distinction in his life. Funny how things could turn on a dime.

Jim looked at him over his coffee cup, then put the mug on the counter. “Say, I saw Lily Rogers and Maria De Marco a block up a few minutes ago with to-go cups in their hands.”

“Yes, they were here,” Blake replied.

“I had all of Lily’s siblings in my math class.” Jim had taught freshman math at Moonlight Cove High School since he and Fran had moved here ten years ago to be closer to Fran’s ailing mother. “Liam, Larry, Lydia and Laura. All Ls.”

“She was here applying for the job.”

“Ah,” Jim said, wiping his hands. “Did you hire her?”

“No, I already found someone and hired him.” Blake rubbed at a spot on the counter. “He starts tomorrow.”

“Oh, well, good. Sounds like you have it all worked out,” Jim said.

Right as Jim finished speaking, Jay Wright, the local insurance agent, came in and headed straight for the front counter. He ordered, and as soon as Blake was finished serving him he went back over to Jim.

“Lily came to a couple of Liam and Larry’s parent conferences. She’s a very nice young woman,” Jim said without preamble.

“Yes, she is.” One of the nicest Blake had met here in Moonlight Cove. Not that he’d met many; he didn’t have a lot of time for any kind of social life.

“I’m pretty sure she’s single,” Jim said, looking over his coffee cup with a speculative gaze. “At least the last I heard.”

Blake deadpanned him.

“What?” Jim said, shrugging. “You’re single. She’s single. In my day, guys took note of that kind of stuff. And we asked nice young women out on dates.”

“You know I’m not interested in dating,” Blake said. “And you know why.”

“Just because Amy was unfeeling and greedy doesn’t mean all women are like that.”

“She dumped me when I lost most of my money,” Blake said, the words bitter on his tongue. Though he knew now he hadn’t really loved Amy, she had mortally wounded his pride when she’d dumped him, and a wall had gone up around his heart.

“So, what? You plan on being alone for the rest of your life?” Jim asked with a lift of his grizzled brow.

“Between that and my business problems and now Peyton, dating is the last thing on my mind.” Seems he’d spent his life being abandoned by women. Even when she was alive, Mom hadn’t been there for him or Anna. Essentially killing herself with drugs had been the final blow. No way was he taking another chance.

“Fair enough,” Jim said, canting his head and nodding. “But nice, attractive, kind women aren’t always easy to come by. Maybe you should keep an eye on Lily Rogers, just in case you change your mind.”

The overhead bell rang, and the lovely subject of their conversation came sailing back into the store, her windswept, damp hair fluffed up around her rosy cheeks.

Blake watched her, his heartbeat accelerating just a bit.

She pointed to the floor next to the chair she’d been sitting in. “I forgot my briefcase,” she said embarrassedly. Bending down, she picked it up and slung it over her slim shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder where my brain is.” She pointed to her head and made a silly expression.

Blake found himself smiling.

Like a pretty whirlwind of constant motion she headed back to the door and with another wave she was gone into the rain-swept afternoon as quickly as she’d reappeared.

Still grinning, Blake turned his attention to Jim. “More coffee?”

Jim shook his head and placed his hand over his cup. “So, the way you tell it, you’re not interested in Lily.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Blake said, infusing an extra amount of certainty into his voice. He had to head this off or Jim would have Blake and Lily on a date this very night and head over heels in love by the weekend. Jim was a hopeless romantic, and fully prescribed to the love-conquers-all theory of life.

Blake thought that attitude was shortsighted and idealistic. Real life had taught him to be wary of letting others gain control of one’s heart.

“Then why were you watching her so intently just now?” Jim asked, his blue eyes trained on Blake like a laser.

Blake’s face heated. Caught. Worse yet, he didn’t have a plausible response. So he just glared at Jim.

Jim chuckled. “That’s what I thought,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “You like Lily, my friend. More than you think you should.”

Blake was very afraid Jim was right.

No matter. He’d probably never see her again.

Chapter Two

Blake rang the doorbell of Molly and Grant Roderick’s house, holding Peyton’s baby carrier in his right hand. It felt odd to be arriving at a social function when his focus for the past month had been on the store and Peyton and nothing else remotely resembling any kind of life. But he needed some kind of social interaction, some kind of break, or he’d lose it. Though he was only acquainted with Grant and Molly as customers at The Cabana, and the one time Blake had come to a singles’ group function had been about a year ago, he was still grateful to them for including him.

The door opened and Grant stood there. “Hey, Blake. Glad you could make it.” With a welcoming smile, he moved back and gestured Blake in.

“Thanks.” Blake stepped through the threshold into an oak-trimmed entryway and set the carrier on the floor. “I appreciate you letting me bring the baby.”

Grant bent down and looked at a bundled-up, sleeping Peyton, smiling. “No problem at all. We all love babies. And it’s good for you to have a break from your killer schedule.”

Blake unbuttoned his coat. “Yeah, it’s been a little rough.” Peyton had slept a little better last night, but had still woken up fussing three times. And Mrs. Jones was still sick, so he’d had to juggle Peyton and the store again today. He really hoped Mrs. Jones was able to work tomorrow; another day doing double duty wouldn’t be good, even though the kid he’d hired as a barista, Jonah, was doing well. Blake was already behind in never-ending paperwork and the general administrative tasks inherent in owning a business. “Thanks.” He took his coat off and put it in Grant’s outstretched hand.

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m so sorry about Anna.” Grant opened a nearby closet and hung up Blake’s coat.

A lump formed in Blake’s chest. “Thanks.” If he said more, he’d probably break down, so he left it at that.

“Everybody’s in the kitchen, so right this way,” Grant said, gesturing behind himself.

Blake picked up Peyton and followed Grant through a good-size living room tastefully decorated with brown leather couches, a colorful area rug, a large-screen TV and two dog beds sitting side by side. Voices floated to him from the kitchen.

When he stepped into the room, several heads turned. He recognized Molly, and a few other people who’d been into the store, though he didn’t know their names.

Molly stepped forward from the family room adjoining the kitchen, drawing his attention. “Blake! It’s good to see you.”

“Thanks for having me.” He saw the snack spread on the table and mentally slapped his head. “Oh, I guess I should have brought something.”

She waved a hand. “No worries.” Her gaze went to Peyton. “You have this little angel to take care of.” Molly bent over. “She’s adorable.”

“Thanks.” Thankfully, Peyton slept on, even with the conversation in the room. Figured that now she would sleep. “Still. I should have realized it was a potluck.” Where was his brain lately? Lost in the haze of sleep deprivation and overwork, probably.

“Do you want to bring her with you while I introduce you around?” Molly asked.

“You want me to take her?” a familiar female voice asked from behind him.

He turned, and there stood Lily Rogers, a lovely smile on her face. “Hey!” he said, surprised to see her here. She wore a blue-and-white-striped top and had her hair up on top of her head, showing off her slender neck. Wow. She was even prettier than he remembered.

“Hey back,” she said, her eyes catching on his for just a moment before shifting to focus on Peyton. “How’s my girl Peyton these days?”

“Quieter,” he replied drily. “At least for now.”

“Oh, good.”

“I understand you and Lily met yesterday,” Molly said.

“Yes, she came in to apply for a job,” he said.

“How’s the new guy working out?” Lily asked.

“He’s fine,” Blake said. “Fortunately he had barista experience, so I haven’t had to do too much training.”

“I’ll have to come in and hit him with some random, weird order,” Lily said. “Put him through his paces.”

“Go for it,” Blake replied, liking the levity she brought to the conversation, even though she was discussing a job she hadn’t gotten.

Lily held her hand out. “Why don’t I take her into the living room, where it’s quiet, while you relax for a bit.”

“You sure you don’t mind?” He didn’t come here to foist Peyton off on someone else; he knew where his responsibilities lay.

“Of course not,” Lily replied, shooing him away. “Go meet everyone.”

“You’ll let me know if you need me?”

“I can handle her if she fusses,” Lily said with a crooked smile.

The teasing glint in Lily’s eyes made his heart bounce. “Yes, I guess you can.” Smiling back, he handed her the carrier. “Here you go.”

She hoisted it into the crook of her arm and headed into the living room. He couldn’t help but notice the curls at her nape as she walked away.

Grant came up and handed him a glass of what looked like lemonade. “You know Lily?”

“She came in yesterday to apply for the barista job.” Blake took a sip of his drink. Tart, but good. “I had to tell her it was already filled.”

“She seems to like Peyton,” Molly observed.

“She helped out yesterday when it got busy and Peyton was having a fit.” He smiled. “She’s a genuine baby whisperer.”

“She’s also a very good clothing designer.” Grant looked at Molly. “Didn’t you tell me she wants to go to LA and audition for some fashion reality show?”

“Yes, Project Fashion,” Molly said. “She’s very talented. She designs and makes most of her own clothes.”

Surprise and unexpected disappointment washed through Blake. “She didn’t mention any of this yesterday.”

“Going to the audition has been in the works for a while.”

“I got the impression she helped with her brothers and sisters a lot.” Her commitment to her family had impressed Blake yesterday.

“Yes, her dad died when she was in her early teens and Lily has helped her mom with her siblings since then.” Molly put her arm around Grant’s waist. “She’s put off her own dream for her family. She lost her job at a local clothing store last week, so she really needs one.” Molly waved at someone who’d just stepped into the kitchen. “She helps her mom out with bills and stuff, so it’s taken her a long time to save the money she needs to go to LA.”

More admiration spread through Blake. “I wish I could have hired her, then. Even temporarily.”

“Hopefully she’ll find something else soon,” Molly said.

“Sounds like she’s pretty set on the reality show,” Blake replied, still feeling inexplicably disappointed Lily would eventually be leaving town.

“Oh, she is,” Molly said, nodding. “I think she could win, too, if she just had the chance. Either way she plans on staying in LA for the foreseeable future.”

Blake suddenly heard Peyton crying. “Excuse me,” he said. “Peyton calls.”

He headed into the living room, and there sat Lily, holding a screeching Peyton. “Hey, there,” he said, rushing over. “What’s up?”

Lily stood, pulling Peyton close so her head was touching Lily’s cheek. “She just started in.” Her face froze. “Oh, wow. I think she has a fever.”

With concern bubbling through him, Blake laid a hand on Peyton’s forehead. Though he was no nurse, even he could tell she was way too hot to the touch. “I think you’re right.”

“Poor baby,” Lily said.

He leaned in to look at Peyton’s flushed face, trying to ignore how close he was to Lily. “She’s never been sick before,” he said as more worry chomped away at him.

“All babies eventually get sick.” Lily pulled away slightly and then started in with the swing, swing, swing thing she did so well. She gave him a look tinged in sympathy. “Not that that makes it any easier.”

Peyton quieted just a bit.

“I have no idea what to do with a sick kid,” he said, swiping a hand through his hair. He was so out of his element trying to take care of Peyton.

“Infant fever reducer would be a start.”

“Do I just get that at the grocery store?” This fatherhood thing was complicated.

“Yep,” Lily said. “It’s in the pain reliever section.”

He scratched his cheek. “How do I give her a pill?”

“It’s a liquid you can put in her formula, or squeeze in her mouth with a dropper.”

“Oh, okay.” There was so much to learn. He stood for a moment, his shoulders sagging. He was just barely keeping his head above water; how was he going to handle the store and a sick baby? He prayed Mrs. Jones would be back at work tomorrow. If not...was it possible Lily could help him out? She did need a job. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to ask, but he filed the idea away, just in case.

“I know it’s scary to have her be sick, but since she’s too young to be teething, it’s probably just a virus that will go away in a few days.”

He let out a heavy breath. “I hope so.”

Peyton started wailing again.

Molly came into the room, her brow creased. “Is everything okay?”

“Peyton has a fever,” he said. “I should go.” He rubbed Peyton’s overly warm head. “I don’t want to spread germs around.”

“Once you get the medicine in, she’ll feel a lot better,” Lily said. “She’ll probably conk out as soon as you get home.”

“I hope so,” he said. Just the thought of another sleepless night filled him with dread. Of course, he’d do whatever she needed. But the strain of no sleep and another long day tomorrow made him feel as if he wore a cement coat.

As Lily tried to put Peyton back in the carrier, the baby arched her back and screamed, making it difficult for Lily to get the straps over her head.