The Wishing Season (A Chapel Springs Romance Book 3) Read online

  “Here, let me help.” She wedged in between Cole and the wall, grasping the sash at the bottom. They gave it a few tugs, then Cole pulled out his pocketknife and started cutting through the dried-on paint.

  PJ leaned against the wall, too close. The smell of her perfume or hair or whatever it was teased his nose.

  “Daniel’s my brother-in-law. He’s also the mayor, but before that he was kind of an honorary brother. Always hanging around, basically part of the family. His parents live in DC. His dad’s a senator, so he grew up here with his grandma. How about you? Any family to speak of?”

  “Not really.”

  “That must be hard. How in the world did you get all that funding without connections?”

  “Mostly from church.”

  “Oh, we have a great church here. A couple of them actually. You might be able to get more funding if you need it.”

  She was trying to help him? What was her deal?

  He pocketed his knife and grabbed the window sash.

  PJ turned and helped. “How old are you, anyway?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “I’m twenty-two.”

  The window went up this time. A breeze drifted in, flirting with the loose hairs around her face.

  “So what’s PJ stand for?”

  “Penelope Jane—after my grandmothers. It only gets used when I’m in trouble, and even then it’s just my mom.”

  “It doesn’t suit you.”

  “I know, right? Hey.” She checked her watch. “It’s been five minutes, and we haven’t argued once.”

  He gave a wry grin. “World record.”

  “Maybe we should quit while we’re ahead.”

  “Best not to jinx it.”

  “Right.” She smiled wide.

  She really did have nice lips. And why was he looking at her mouth again?

  Chapter Nine

  PJ RAN THE ROLLER THROUGH THE PAN AND APPLIED THE paint to the plaster. The white walls showed through the fresh burgundy paint. “It’s definitely going to take two coats.”

  Ryan was masking off the picture window in the room that would soon be the main dining room of her restaurant. “At least.”

  She’d gotten the plans back this week. They only had to move one wall to broaden the kitchen. The restaurant would consist of two rooms, the former living room and sitting room. The wide porch would provide patio seating. She couldn’t wait to see it all completed.

  The front door opened, and Cole entered with bags from the hardware store. He’d been gone most of the evening.

  “How’s it going?” he said.

  PJ lowered her roller. “Hi.”

  Cole’s eyes darted between PJ and Ryan, then he started for the stairs.

  “Wait,” PJ said. “You remember my brother, Ryan?”

  Cole’s gaze swung to Ryan, and recognition passed over his features. He shifted some bags. “Vaguely. Thanks for the medical help, man.”

  Ryan stood, jerking his chin upward. “Least I can do when my sister’s handing out concussions.”

  PJ elbowed him in the gut and got a satisfying grunt in return. “It was self-defense.”

  Cole gave a huff of laughter and started up the steps with his load.

  “Need some help?” Ryan called.

  “I got it. Thanks.”

  Cole disappeared, and seconds later his footsteps creaked overhead. A radio came on, a driving beat with a wailing electric guitar filtering down the stairs. Sometimes she felt a little bad for him. On his own with all that work to do upstairs, while she had her whole family helping out.

  “So what’s his deal?” Ryan asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s kind of quiet. Have you learned anything else about him? What about that report Daniel was getting?”

  PJ shrugged as she pushed her roller back and forth in the pan. “It didn’t turn up anything. He doesn’t talk much about himself, but he’s fine. He’s not dangerous or anything.”

  “You don’t know that. You’re not exactly the best judge of character.”

  Ouch. Ryan had no idea he’d just stuck an arrow into a soft, vulnerable spot. None of her family knew about Keaton.

  “Give me some credit. I’m not twelve anymore.”

  “Just be careful. Maybe you shouldn’t be here without one of us.”

  PJ rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter. You wouldn’t be having this conversation with Madison or Jade.”

  “It’s only because I care.”

  She didn’t want to think about this anymore. It just stressed her out.

  “So I heard you went on a date last weekend. Who was she?”

  Ryan ripped off a strip of tape with his teeth. “The new receptionist at school. You don’t know her.”

  Ryan taught and coached football at Chapel Springs High School in addition to volunteering for the fire department.

  “Where’d you go? Did you have fun?”

  “It was fine, I guess.”

  PJ looked over her shoulder at him. “You ask her out again?”

  “Not yet.”

  “It’s a Friday night and you’re helping your sister paint—not that I don’t appreciate it. You should ask her out again. Are you going to?”

  “You’re the nosiest sister on the planet.”

  PJ blinked innocently. “It’s only because I care.”

  Ryan shot her a look over his shoulder, his lips pressed together.

  She knew she wouldn’t get any more out of him. Likely he’d go on a few dates with the woman and then things would fizzle out. It seemed to be his pattern these days. She wondered if he’d ever find someone he’d love as much as Abby. PJ had loved her too. The rest of the family had never really warmed up to her, but they’d been heartbroken about the divorce.

  She wanted to ask Ryan about her, but it wasn’t a welcome topic, even after all this time.

  PJ started on the next wall, smoothing out drips of paint as she went.

  “The paint’s really darkening the room,” Ryan said.

  “It’ll be romantic. I want a dimmer switch on the overhead chandelier and candlelight on the tables. It’ll be perfect.”

  “What are you doing for tables and chairs?”

  “I’m getting some things from Grandma’s Attic.” Their mom’s store was a treasure trove of used furniture. “It’ll be mismatched-eclectic. Not my ideal, but it’ll do for now.”

  “Got your menu all planned out?”

  “Almost. Part of my final project at school was to create a restaurant menu. I already have most of the main dishes and a couple desserts—which reminds me, there’s cheesecake in the fridge. Take it with you. I need feedback.”

  “Happy to help. If you need someone to test your entrees, feel free to bring me dinner anytime.”

  “Bachelorhood getting to you?”

  “Frozen food gets old quick.”

  “I could teach you to cook, you know. I was thinking about having cooking lessons on slow nights to supplement the restaurant income.”

  “Great idea. It’ll help during the winter season. I can’t see you being open every night.”

  He was right. She’d have to make her money during spring, summer, and fall when the tourists came. Winter was going to be dead. And the restaurant wouldn’t open until late summer at the earliest. How was she going to turn a profit this year?

  And she had to if she was going to convince Mrs. Simmons to give her the house. Either that, or Cole was going to have to flub up big-time.

  Her dad had cosigned on her loan this week. So much money. The commercial kitchen was the kicker. She’d need silverware and dinnerware. She’d splurged on her pots and pans—beautiful copper Bourgeat cookware. She couldn’t wait for their arrival.

  What if it didn’t work out? What if she lost the house? What if a year from now she found herself still working at Fiona’s Fudge Shoppe, thousands of dollars in debt?

  Her lungs tightened at the thought. She focused on breathing i
n, expanding them. Breathing out. Her heart raced, and her breathing quickened. She set her roller in the pan and walked across the drop-cloth-covered floor.

  What was wrong with her? It felt so strange, so awful, like someone else was looking out her eyes. Fear bubbled up, vague and undefined, but strong, seeping into the deepest reaches.

  Everything was going to be fine. She wasn’t going to fail. She wasn’t.

  But right now it was hard to believe she was going to live through the moment. Get it together, PJ.

  “What’s wrong?”

  PJ shook her head, still trying to get her breathing under control. “My heart’s racing.” She started pacing. Somehow it comforted her.

  Ryan applied a strip of tape, finishing the baseboard. “I’m sure you’re fine.” He stood and checked his watch.

  She was fine. You’re fine, PJ. Stop stressing. You’re doing this to yourself.

  “I have that meeting at the firehouse.”

  PJ nodded. Blew out a breath, wishing he’d go so she could panic in private.

  “Sure you’re all right?” Ryan asked as he opened the door.

  She nodded and tried for a smile. That was all she could do. And then he was gone.

  She paced through the room, focusing on her breathing, which couldn’t seem to keep pace with her heart. Please, God.

  Minutes passed, but they felt like hours. She stopped by the window overlooking the backyard. Peaceful trees. Peaceful gardens. Peaceful shade. She drew in breath after breath, blowing it out through her mouth.

  What was wrong with her? This wasn’t normal. Right?

  “PJ?”

  She closed her eyes, not daring to look over her shoulder. Why couldn’t everyone just leave her alone for two seconds?

  She worked to steady her breath. “Yeah?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a—”

  In. Out. Come on, PJ. Relax.

  “You okay?”

  Go away. Just go away. She nodded.

  Muted footsteps fell behind her.

  “Have a what?” she made herself ask.

  She felt his presence closing in. Smelled the musky scent of him, now familiar. She tucked her trembling hands into her pockets and focused on an old tire swing that hung from a thick branch of a towering oak tree.

  “You’re not okay.” He was beside her now. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. Blew out a breath, focused on the tire swing, swaying gently in the breeze.

  He took her wrist, pulling her hand from her pocket, and set two fingers at her pulse.

  Her heart did a funny flop. The swing disappeared. Her awareness dwindled down to those two fingers.

  “I’m fine—I—I’ve just worked myself up, I guess. I do that sometimes. Think something’s wrong when it’s really not.”

  His gaze was on her, green eyes that saw everything. Piercing.

  She looked away. She didn’t want him to see her like this, vulnerable.

  He released her hand. “It’s high. A hundred and twenty beats per minute.”

  “I’m feeling better now.” It was true. Just the fact that she was thinking about his eyes, his touch, proved it. She rubbed her wrist. Slowed her breathing.

  She still felt his eyes on her. She pushed the window sash higher. The June breeze kissed her face. “You were—what was it you wanted?”

  “Channel locks. You don’t have a pair, do you?”

  She blew out a breath. Definitely feeling better. “I don’t even know what that is.”

  “Ah. Never mind then.” He backed toward the stairs. “Sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah.” Her heart was settling into a normal rhythm, her thoughts clearer, the intense fear fading. “Hey,” she called.

  He turned at the foot of the steps, one hand resting on the mahogany turnout.

  She was going to thank him for his concern, but the words stuck in her throat. “We could share tools. I mean, you know, to save money. You’re welcome to my painting supplies when I’m done.”

  He gave her a long, penetrating gaze. “All right,” he said finally.

  After he disappeared up the stairs, she wondered if she’d have been better off just saying thanks.

  Chapter Ten

  His heart raced as he crawled through the wreckage. His mind screamed, but no sounds came out. The smell of fumes and burning rubber choked him. Mom! Noelle! Dad! his mind screamed.

  It was too dark. His hands felt for life. Found the booster seat. An arm. “Noelle!” Finally his voice worked. He shook her. But she wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t answer.

  He ran his hand down to her wrist. Two fingers, they’d taught him in school. Not the thumb. He couldn’t feel anything. Come on, come on.

  Her small hand was still warm, the chubby fingers curling lifelessly. He moved his fingers, searching. Finding nothing. No pulse. No beats. No life.

  “Noelle!”

  Cole’s eyes flew open. The room was dark. The floor beneath him hard. His ragged breaths punctuated the silence.

  He closed his eyes again, one part wishing for the oblivion of sleep, the other knowing it wasn’t safe tonight. It had been years since he’d had the dream. He threw off the blanket. It was going to be a long night.

  The dream lingered in his mind, the details haunting him. Details absent from tonight’s nightmare—everything that had led up to that accident.

  The familiar ache started in his gut, twisting into a hard knot, and he welcomed it.

  The bell jingled, and PJ looked up to see Jade entering Fiona’s Fudge Shoppe. “You’re early. I thought we were meeting at the house.”

  “Daniel’s taking the girls to his grandma’s, so he dropped me on the way.”

  PJ was glad the Saturday crowd had dwindled. “I’ll be right back.” Fiona was in the back cooling fudge on the marble slab. She was sure her boss wouldn’t mind her taking off a bit early.

  A few minutes later she and her sister headed to the house, catching up on the way.

  “I can’t wait to see what you think,” PJ said as she pulled up to the curb. “I got the first coat of paint on the dining rooms yesterday.”

  “Wow, I’d forgotten how huge it is,” Jade said as they approached the porch.

  “Won’t it make a great B & B?” PJ had to keep her dream in sight. “I can’t wait to have the whole thing.”

  “You have to win it first.”

  They pushed through the screen door. Pounding noises from upstairs echoed through the house.

  “Your friend’s working today?”

  “He’s not my friend. He’s my competition.” She thought of Cole’s kindness yesterday when she’d spaced out and felt a twinge of guilt.

  “Who’re you kidding? Everyone’s your friend.”

  PJ flipped the switch for the grand chandelier, but nothing happened. “He must have the electric off. It’s going to be a little dark.”

  She showed Jade around the main level, detailing her plans.

  “So this is the wall that’s coming down. The commercial ovens will go here. I’ve got my eye on some equipment from a restaurant that’s going out of business in Columbus—cross your fingers. The wood floor’s got to go. Ceramic tile. Dad’s going to lay it.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Pounding sounded from directly above them, almost deafening.

  “What’s he doing up there?” Jade asked.

  “Who knows.” She led Jade down the short hall. “And this will be my room once everything’s done.”

  “Kind of small.”

  “Well, sure, but I won’t be in here much. And once I win, I can move wherever I want.”

  “Upstairs with the guests?”

  “Or the attic. It’s huge and has this gable that overlooks the backyard. It would make a great master suite.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  The pounding stopped.

  “Want to see the upstairs?”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t intrude.”

  “You don’t want to
meet him? It’ll only take a minute.”

  As they entered the foyer, the floor creaked at the top of the staircase. “PJ . . . you seen my new hammer? The one with the long handle?” He sounded annoyed.

  She’d used it last night to hammer the paint lid on tight. “Oh, sorry.” She ran into the dining room and retrieved it, then climbed the steps, motioning Jade to follow.

  At the top of the steps Cole reached for the hammer, frowning.

  “Sorry,” she said again.

  He moved aside as they reached the second floor. The light from a bedroom window hit the side of his face. Dust coated his dark hair, sweat glistened on his forehead, and a mask hung around his neck. His eyes looked tired.

  “Jade, this is Cole, my, well, the guy I told you about. Cole, Jade, my sister.”

  They shook hands.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.”

  “Jade’s the one married to the mayor. Daniel? My honorary-brother-turned-brother-in-law? She teaches guitar and has adorable daughters named Ava and Mia. They’re twins.” She didn’t know why she added that. Or why she kept talking. “Cole’s from Fort Wayne. He’s opening the transition house for foster care kids. Obviously.” Shut it, PJ.

  “Right,” Jade said.

  “So . . .” PJ pocketed her hands. “How long’s the electric going to be off? I need to put another coat on, and those rooms are pretty dark.”

  “I told you I was tearing down the wall today.”

  “I know, but . . . I didn’t realize . . .”

  Cole drilled her with those green eyes until she shifted, the floor creaking under her feet.

  His jaw clenched. “Fine. I’ll turn it back on.” He brushed past her.

  “Thank you,” she called down the stairs.

  “Hot, but kind of grouchy,” Jade whispered when he was out of earshot.

  “Must be having a bad day,” she said, then wondered why she was making excuses for him.

  “Where’s your sister?” Cole asked.

  PJ turned on the ladder, her eyes temporarily blinded by the aluminum lamp she’d borrowed from her parents.

  “One of her girls came down with a fever. I didn’t get squat done today.” She regretted turning down her mother’s offer of help this afternoon. But Mom had her own business to run, and ever since her heart attack last year, they’d all been careful of her workload.