Chapter Six: Ghosts from the Past
941 Words
Brooke didn’t really believe in omens. But the next morning? Her coffee maker totally went haywire. Not in a cool movie way with smoke, but in a real, ‘hot coffee everywhere’ kind of way. She yelped, grabbed a towel, and let out a hiss when a drop landed on her wrist.
“Everything okay?” Jake called from the hallway.
She felt herself freeze.
Of course, he was here. Just perfect.
“I’m fine,” she shouted back. “Though the coffee machine seems to be going through a midlife crisis.”
Jake popped his head into the doorway, towel draped over his shoulder, looking all damp from his morning swim. His hair was a mess and his shirt clung to him. It felt a bit unfair, honestly.
He smiled. “You sure you’re okay?”
Brooke raised the scorched towel, joking, “I might need to sue.”
Jake took a step closer, flipping her hand over to check her skin. “You’re not bleeding, though.”
“Nope. But I’m emotionally scarred.”
He just smirked, looking totally unfazed. “How about I make you one from downstairs?”
She didn’t stop him. And when he handed her a fresh cup a bit later, she didn’t say thank you out loud, but he had this smile like he could hear it anyway.
Later that morning, Brooke was wandering around Salt & Pine, pretending to look for a book. Ruby was behind the counter, humming as she sorted through a new batch of paperbacks.
“Something tells me you’re not really here for a book,” Ruby said without looking up.
“Am I that obvious?”
Ruby flashed a smile. “Only to other women who’ve seen their friends fall for guys before they’re ready.”
Brooke blinked. “I’m not—”
“Sure you’re not.”
Brooke sighed. “Okay, fine. Yes, I like him. A lot. But I’m leaving this weekend.”
Ruby looked up. “Are you really?”
Before Brooke could answer, the bell on the door jingled.
A woman walked in, tall and blonde, looking perfectly tanned with fancy nails and designer sunglasses perched on her head. Her heels clicked against the wooden floor like she owned the place.
She glanced around, spotted Ruby, then turned her gaze right at Brooke.
Her smile? Sharp.
“Hi,” she said all smooth-like. “I’m looking for Jake Carson. I heard he comes here sometimes.”
Brooke felt herself freeze up.
Ruby blinked. “He’s not here, but—”
“I’ll wait,” the woman cut in, brushing past Brooke like she wasn’t even there, pulling out her phone to scroll.
Brooke turned to Ruby, eyebrows raised in shock.
Ruby mouthed, “Ex.”
Oh, great.
Brooke didn’t want to stick around for the awkward reunion part two.
She slipped outside, ducked behind the corner, and texted Jake: FYI: got a blonde snake-eyeing you at Salt & Pine. Please tell me she’s not your wife.
He replied almost instantly: Not even close. Thanks for the heads-up.
Then, another text: Want to get lunch later? Just us?
She thought about it for a second. The smart thing would be to say no, to keep her distance. After all, she was leaving soon.
But smart hadn’t really worked out for her lately.
Only if there’s pie.
Jake didn’t mention the woman at first.
They met up at a quiet table in the Harbor’s End Café, tucked away by the windows. Brooke ordered a peach tea and a grilled shrimp salad, while Jake went for a cheeseburger without even a hint of apology.
It felt easy. Too easy.
Probably why she decided to bring it up. “So, how many women in town have keys to your front door?”
Jake blinked at her. “You met Erin, didn’t you?”
“More like her sunglasses and her attitude. She didn’t even see me. I’m not used to being invisible.”
“She’s not from around here. She pops back every couple of years, usually when she’s bored or between relationships.”
“Is she Dylan’s mom?”
Jake shook his head. “Nah, just a chapter I’d rather not revisit.”
Brooke nodded slowly. “Got it.”
“She loves the spotlight,” Jake added. “And she hates being told no.”
Brooke let out a dry laugh. “That totally explains the heels.”
Jake leaned in a bit. “Are you jealous?”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
He grinned. “Maybe a little.”
But then his expression turned serious. “Look, I’m not seeing anyone else, Brooke. I’m really not interested in anyone else.”
Her stomach did a flip. She stared down at her plate, her heart racing.
“I don’t want things to get complicated,” she said.
“It already is,” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.”
That night, Brooke lay awake yet again. But it wasn’t about anxiety this time.
It was about wanting.
Jake hadn’t kissed her goodbye. Hadn’t asked her to stick around.
He just walked her to the porch, looked at her like she was the only person who made him nervous, and said, “I’m trying not to want more than you’re ready to give.”
And she had no clue how to respond. So she didn’t say anything.
But she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
About him. About them—whatever this was turning into.
And how terrifying it was to admit that she might not want this weekend to end.
- Writer
