Wind Chime Café (A Wind Chime Novel) (26 page)

She would never think of sweet rolls the same way again.

Will had left a little while ago, giving her just enough time to tidy up the apartment and take a shower before Taylor got home. Spotting her brown boots behind the counter, she pulled them on over her stretchy jeans and glanced up at the sound of footsteps on her porch.

She straightened and blinked. Once. Twice. “Della?”

“Hmm?”

Annie stared at the crowd gathering outside the café. “Della,” she hissed, ducking into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Della asked innocently.

“Did you do this?” Annie pointed to the growing group of islanders talking and laughing on her porch, waiting for the café to open. “Did you get all these people to show up?”

Della smiled, her eyes twinkling as she stirred a simmering pot of cream of crab soup. The mouthwatering aromas of melted butter, Old Bay seasoning and sherry floated into the air. “No, Annie, this time it was all you.”

“Me?” Annie twisted her damp hair into a knot, shoving a pen through it to hold it in place. “But I didn’t do anything. I mean, nothing’s changed since yesterday.” She adjusted the chunky brown belt she’d fastened around the waist of her cream-colored sweater earlier. “We haven’t changed the menu. We’re not offering any specials. It’s not even a weekend.”

Della added a pinch of cayenne pepper to the soup. “Nothing’s changed since yesterday?”

Annie’s hands stilled on her belt.

Della smiled and grasped the handle of the oven, the hinges squeaking as she inched it open to scrutinize a loaf of cheese bread.

Annie’s whole body filled with heat as the memory of Will licking icing off her fingers in bed that morning swam back. “But…that doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Della laughed, closing the oven. “Honey, this is an island.” She added a dash of tarragon to the bowl of chicken salad sitting on the counter beside the stove. “What you do outside of work is going to get a lot more attention than putting an ad in the paper. Your personal life is the best marketing tool you have.”

Annie stole a glance back out at the islanders. A few of them had broken off from the crowd and were peering in the windows. “They’re all here because of what I did with Will?”

“Will hasn’t been back to the island in ten years, Annie.” Della tasted the chicken salad and nodded, satisfied. Covering the bowl with plastic wrap, she set it in the fridge. “He came back after all this time, and instead of selling his grandparents’ house and leaving right away, he stayed. Now, he’s involved with someone a woman who lives on the island, a woman who’s new here, and who very few people know.” Della nodded toward the porch. “Every single person out there wants to know who you are now.”

Annie’s palms started to sweat. She and Will weren’t involved. It was only one night. “Della—”

Della smiled and gave her a gentle nudge toward the door. “I think you better greet your customers.”

Annie’s breathing grew shallow as she made her way toward the door. What was she going to do? Will had made it perfectly clear again last night that he wasn’t interested in anything long-term. He was leaving in less than two weeks and she would probably never see him again.

But what was she supposed to tell the islanders? That there was nothing going on between them? That it was a meaningless fling?

She was a mother, for God’s sake. She didn’t make a habit of sleeping with men she’d only known for a few weeks.

But if she didn’t tell them the truth, they would draw their own conclusions and assume she and Will were together.

Her fingers grasped the cool metal handle of the door. This could be her only chance to make an impression on the locals who hadn’t bothered to set foot in the café yet.

She wasn’t going to blow it.

Pasting a smile on her face, she opened the door. The temperature had dropped several degrees overnight and a gust of cold air swept into the room. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said brightly. “Della just whipped up a fresh batch of cream of crab soup and it smells amazing.”

“That sounds wonderful,” an elderly woman gushed, slipping inside.

“Cream of crab soup on a cold day sounds perfect,” another said, hanging her coat on the rack inside the door.

“I love your sweater,” a woman in her early-thirties said as she maneuvered an oversized baby stroller inside.

“Thank you,” Annie said, leading her and her two rambunctious twin boys to a corner table by the window.

“Did you get it around here?”

“I got it in D.C.”

“D.C.” The woman’s voice was wistful as she wrestled a toy out of her son’s mouth. “I can’t remember the last time I was in the city.”

Annie handed her a menu and offered to bring a box of crayons and construction paper over for the kids.

The woman sent her a grateful smile, and Annie turned, almost colliding with an elderly man strolling up to the counter.

He tipped his hat, leaning on a wooden cane. “I hear you make the best cup of hot chocolate on the island.”

She smiled and took his arm, helping him onto one of the stools. “Would you like whipped cream? It’s homemade.”

The man took his time unfolding his newspaper, laying it out on the counter. “Sure, why not? I’ll take a slice of apple pie, too.”

“Coming right up,” she said as several more islanders filed into the café.

She spotted Eddie Valiant, Heron Island’s Fire Chief, who always came in right when they opened.

“The usual?” she asked him.

He nodded, strolling up to the counter while she poured coffee into a to-go cup and wrapped up a sweet roll.

Normally, he went into the kitchen to visit with Della while Annie filled his order. Today, he stood by the register, grinning down at her. When she handed him his coffee and pastry, he passed her a crumpled bill and winked. “Keep the change.”

Annie’s head spun as she passed out menus, jotted down orders, refilled coffee cups, and dodged questions about her and Will for the next several hours. By the time the last customer left, she had a shooting pain in her right eye and a dull ache throbbing in each temple.

Part of her was grateful for the business, but the other part—the part that knew the only reason everyone had come in today was because they were dying to know if she and Will were together—was afraid this was all going to blow up in her face.

Emptying the coffee grounds from the espresso machine, she watched Taylor refill the saltshakers on the café tables. Thankfully, her daughter had spent most of the morning upstairs making wind chimes out of the box of buttons Jess’s mom had given her. When she’d come downstairs at lunchtime, Della had fixed her a sandwich and put her to work icing sugar cookies.

Annie didn’t expect anyone to purposefully blurt out the fact that she’d slept with Will in front of her eight-year-old daughter. But what if Taylor overheard a conversation in passing? What if one of the kids in her class had seen them kissing in the street last night? It wouldn’t take long to put two and two together.

The
last
thing she wanted was for Taylor to get her hopes up that she and Will might have some kind of future together. Taylor was already so fond of Will. If she spent any more time with him, it would break her heart when he left.

She knew what it was like to get close to a man her mother was dating, to start looking up to him like a father figure. Most of all, she knew how much it hurt to say goodbye.

Pushing back from the espresso machine, she opened the register and pulled out a pile of receipts. She could hear Della singing along with a country song in the kitchen, pots and pans clanging around as she put everything away for the night. Making two piles, one for cash, one for credit cards, Annie stole a glance back up at Taylor and caught her daughter staring out the window. “What are you looking at, sweetie?”

“Nothing,” Taylor said quickly, grabbing a saltshaker from the closest table.

Annie watched her refill it and twist the top back on. When she moved on to a new table, Annie went back to tallying up the day’s receipts. A few minutes later, she glanced back up and found Taylor staring out the window again. “Taylor.”

Taylor looked up guiltily.

Annie set down the receipts. “What is it?”

“I thought Will might bring Riley over.”

Annie’s heart constricted. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. “I don’t think Will’s coming over tonight,” she said gently.

“Why not?”

“Because he has a friend in town.”

“Maybe we could go to the inn?” Taylor asked hopefully.

Annie stepped out from behind the counter and crossed the room to her daughter. She took both of Taylor’s hands in hers. “You know Will’s leaving soon, right?”

Taylor looked down at their joined hands and nodded.

“You can still visit with Riley after he leaves,” Annie said, squeezing her hands. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“I know.” Taylor lifted her big green eyes back up to Annie’s. “But won’t he miss her?”

“I’m sure he will.”

“Do you think he’ll come back and visit?”

Annie took a deep breath. “I don’t know. But if he does, it won’t be for a really long time.”

Taylor looked back out the window, at where the leaves were drying and crinkling in the streets. “I wish he wasn’t leaving.”

Me too, Annie thought. But wishing and hoping weren’t going to get them anywhere. She pushed to her feet. “Why don’t you show me the new wind chimes you made today?”

Taylor took one last look out the window. “They’re upstairs.”

“Come on,” Annie said cheerfully, tucking her daughter’s arm through hers. “Let’s find a place to hang them.”

They were almost to the steps when a dog barked in the front yard.

Taylor whirled. “Riley!”

Annie turned slowly as Taylor ran for the door. Taylor dropped her broom with a clatter on the tiles as she raced out onto the porch and dashed down the steps to throw her arms around the wiggling dog.

Will and Colin turned up the walkway a moment later.

Annie took one look at Will and her palms grew damp. What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be keeping his distance, letting things cool down between them after what happened last night?

He paused at the bottom of the steps to talk to Taylor. When he finally lifted his gaze, and caught her eyes through the screen door, the heat that sizzled between them could have set the café on fire.

There was nothing cool or distant about that.

Della walked out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Well, well, well,” she murmured, pausing beside Annie. “Look who finally decided to make an appearance?”

“What?” Annie asked distractedly, her mouth going dry as Will slowly climbed the steps to her porch. His T-shirt was covered in dirt and sawdust. A pair of ripped jeans hung from his narrow hips. His strong forearms were tan and glistening with sweat.

Colin walked in behind him, scuffing his work boots on the doormat and gazing around the café appreciatively as they stepped inside. “Nice place.”

“Thank you,” Annie managed.

Colin turned his attention to Della. “You must be the famous chef Will’s told me so much about.”

Della beamed. “I don’t know about that, but you look like you could use a slice of pumpkin pie.”

Colin grinned at her. “You read my mind.”

He followed her into the kitchen, leaving Annie and Will alone.

Annie’s pulse quickened. He shouldn’t be here. She wasn’t ready to see him yet.

She needed a few days to catch her breath, to regain her balance. Last night had been…more than she’d expected. But it was time to take a step back, to start putting some distance between them.

It would be easier that way when he left.

Stepping behind the counter, she busied her hands with the receipts, pretending not to notice the flash of confusion that clouded Will’s eyes when she moved away from him instead of toward him.

He strolled up to the counter, his gaze dropping to the receipts. “Are all those from today?”

She nodded.

“I’m impressed.”

“It was a good day.”
Thanks to you.
She continued to sort the receipts, her hands methodically separating them into the two piles. It was easier when she had a task to focus on, when she didn’t have to look at him.

She froze when he reached across the counter and adjusted the pen she’d stuck haphazardly in her hair that morning.

“I like this,” he murmured, his fingers lingering in her messy hair.

Her neck tingled, her skin flushing with heat. “I didn’t have time to do much else with it this morning.”

His chocolate eyes warmed as he drew his hand back. “You should wear it like that more often.”

She opened her mouth, closed it. He was
not
making this easy for her. Twisting a rubber band around the cash pile, she nudged it aside and turned her attention to the credit card receipts. “Did you and Colin get a lot of work done on the inn today?”