A Dad For Charlie. Anna Stewart J.
going to San Francisco in a couple of days, but then we figured since Simon’s got a school break in a few weeks—”
“You’re taking Simon on your honeymoon?” Abby balked. “Honey, I love my godson to death, but he’s a definite mood killer.”
“We were thinking about AdventureWorld.” Holly looked between the two of them. “What? Bad idea?”
“Can’t your dad watch him?” Paige asked before Abby could answer honestly.
“He’s taking off on an RV trip with an old friend.” Holly leaned back to where her father, the former sheriff, was helping Abby’s grandmother up the porch steps into the inn. “He’s really looking forward to his first vacation in years. I can’t ask him to postpone.”
“Leave Simon with me,” Abby volunteered. “My hours are flexible enough now I can work around his school schedule. Besides, Jason would love to give Simon a lesson or two with the pressure cooker.”
“Ten bucks says Simon turns the cooker into a space shuttle,” Paige joked about Holly’s wicked-smart son.
“A weeklong slumber party at your place?” Holly shook her head. “I love you, Abby. Why would I subject you to that?”
“Then I’ll take him when she needs a break,” Paige offered. “Charlie has a trundle bed in her room. I don’t mind.” Not a day went by those two weren’t tied at the hip, anyway.
“It’s settled,” Abby said. “Unless Simon has his heart set on going.”
“We hadn’t told him yet,” Holly admitted with a sly smile.
“Because you were hoping one of your best friends would offer another solution?” Abby nudged Holly with her shoulder. “You’re a tricky one, Holly Saxon.”
Holly’s cheeks turned pink. “I’ll talk to Luke tonight.”
“Talk to him tomorrow,” Paige corrected, her pulse giving a bit of a kick when she caught Fletch watching her. “Why does he do that to me?” She didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud until she found Holly and Abby grinning at her. “What?”
“You only noticed he was looking at you because you were watching him.” Holly touched a hand to one of the flowers in her hair. “I don’t understand why you don’t give him a chance.”
“I’m not asking you to understand,” Paige said as kindly as she could. “I’m just asking you to respect it.”
Paige didn’t take chances. Not anymore. Chances were what got her into trouble; taking a chance was what had her leaving her home in the middle of the night and high-tailing it across the country with her daughter. Charlie was already paying a price for Paige’s lack of judgment. She wasn’t about to add Fletcher Bradley to the mix. Any response she might have given her friends evaporated as the photographer waved them over.
Charlie’s laugh eased the tension racing through Paige as the assistant arranged the hems of their dresses. Paige looked over to where Luke and his other deputy-ushers finally got to twist open their beers. But it was seeing Fletcher bend down to straighten Charlie’s flower crown that made Paige’s breath catch. Abby was right. He was great with her daughter and Charlie had a serious case of hero worship going on.
Fletch laughed as Charlie grabbed his hand and twirled herself like a ballerina.
“Yeah, guy like that, totally not your type.” Abby leaned across Holly then frowned when the photographer ordered her to stand up straight. “But fine. I won’t say another word.”
Holly actually snorted.
Paige struggled to keep her smile in place, wishing she was wrong to keep Fletch at a distance. What she wouldn’t give to trust herself, to confide. To believe...
But she couldn’t. The secrets she held were too dangerous to share, when Charlie’s future was at stake. She couldn’t come clean. Not with her friends, not with anyone. Especially not with Fletcher Bradley.
* * *
PAIGE NEARLY STOMPED on the ragged bundle of flowers she found on the doorstep early the next morning. “What on earth?” She stooped down and scooped up the wilted daisies and sprigs of lavender that, despite their haggard appearance, gave off a subtle, relaxing aroma. No card, no note. Just flowers.
Picking up the anemic town newspaper, Paige leaned over the railing to peer around the corner toward Monarch Lane. No one around, just as expected. The stores and businesses were still closed, and there were no people wandering around town, nor friends meeting, groups organizing and kids racing between the bookstore to try to see past the still-boarded windows of the soon-to-reopen arcade. She loved this place. Especially this time of day, before anyone else was up.
Before the town came back to life.
The diner doors opened early, and it was near impossible to be late when Paige lived in the one-bedroom apartment above the Butterfly Diner. Not that that was why Holly had insisted she and Charlie take up residence here. Holly’s offer had been exactly what Paige needed at the time: a new start. But the generous no-rent opportunity had instilled a definite sense of goodwill and obsessiveness when it came to Paige’s friend and boss’s business.
The longer she stayed here, the longer they stayed, the bigger the risk became. They should have left weeks ago and put some distance between them and Butterfly Harbor. Placing herself in jeopardy was one thing; if Charlie hadn’t been part of the equation she never would have left New York in the first place. She’d have owned up to her mistake and taken her punishment. But that was before she’d been threatened with losing her daughter.
The banked fire of anger and resentment continued to burn. Why was hindsight always twenty/twenty? How many times did she wish she could go back and do...everything over again? But it was too late. She’d made her choices.
But no way was Charlie going to pay for them.
Two months. That’s all she needed.
And with that, she pushed the fear and regret aside and settled into the day, beginning with a last glance down the street.
Butterfly Harbor wasn’t exactly a hub of activity this time of year, but most residents didn’t hold down three part-time jobs like Paige. She’d gotten used to five hours of sleep back in school, and her internal clock had never reset. Not something she’d passed along to her daughter, who would sleep her life away if Paige didn’t drag her out of bed every morning.
She closed the door, set the flowers on the table and bent down to pull her ready bag out for her morning check as was her habit ever since she’d been in care. The essentials were always packed to go: clothes, spare medications, a good chunk of cash—Paige didn’t use credit cards or checks which made getting paid interesting—a framed photo of Charlie when she was a baby. Anything else, they could pick up on the way, like the odds and ends that decorated the small apartment her friend had cleaned up just for her.
Paige yelped when Charlie wandered into the doorway of her bedroom wiping the sleep from her heavy-lidded eyes. “What’s going on, Mom?” She frowned at the bag before that familiar panic flashed. Darn it! “We’re not leaving again, are we? Mom, you promised we could stay longer this time!”
“We aren’t leaving.” Paige popped up and kicked the bag back in place. She hated that alarm in Charlie’s eyes—a look Paige was doing everything she could to avoid ever seeing again. “And we have stayed longer.” Longer than any other place in the last year. “I promised to give you some warning next time, remember? Are you feeling okay?” She immediately pressed her hands against Charlie’s freckled face. No fever. Paige breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t have time for either of them to be sick. “The sun’s barely up.”
“I couldn’t sleep anymore.” Charlie’s gaze widened as she looked at the flowers. “Simon’s coming to the diner for breakfast. We have stuff to talk about.”
“Ah. Still thinking about the