“It’s a risk but not a crazy risk,” Ruby said. “He wants you to take it. He wants to prove he’s not too much for you. Too rich, too California, too smart, too—you know. Too everything.”
“And he needs to know you’re falling in love with him,” Maggie added quietly. “He needs to know he has something to offer you.”
Phoebe took a breath. “Something to offer me?”
“You have everything you need right here in Knights Bridge,” Olivia said. “Your family, your job, your friends.”
But not Noah, Phoebe thought. She didn’t tell her sisters and friend that even before the storm—fainting into Noah’s arms—she’d drafted her letter of resignation from the library, just to get a feel for what it might be like to try something new. She could volunteer. She could get into adventure travel, work on Carriage Hill soaps, learn about venture capital and serial entrepreneurs. She could read books and chase toddlers.
There was so much she could do.
She saw possibilities where before she had only seen the path she was on.
Before Noah.
“It’ll take me two seconds to pack,” she said, already heading out of the kitchen.
She didn’t know what she threw in her suitcase. If she forgot anything, there were stores in San Diego. And maybe I won’t need clothes, she thought with a jolt. She blamed her scare with the storm, her mad dash up to the attic with her nephews. She still ached from her cuts, but at least she hadn’t required stitches and didn’t have a concussion.
In other words, she could fly. She could see the sights in San Diego.
Make love to Noah.
She let out a breath. Don’t get ahead of yourself.
On the drive to the small airport barely twenty miles from Knights Bridge, Olivia gripped the steering wheel, her eyes on the road as she spoke. “If things don’t work out with you and Noah, you and I will still be friends. You know that, right, Phoebe? It won’t change anything between us.”
“But Dylan—”
“It’s the same for him and Noah. They’ve been friends for almost as long as we have. We’re all grownups now, Phoebe. You know? We’ll figure it out. You and Noah need the space to be whatever you’re meant to be to each other.”
“I appreciate that, Olivia,” Phoebe said. “You and Noah seem to get along well.”
“Noah is—he’s just Noah. Not everyone gets him.”
“Women?”
“I don’t know much about his past relationships.” Olivia smiled. “Except that they’re past.”
“I’ve never been to San Diego,” Phoebe said half under her breath.
“You won’t be intimidated by Noah’s life there. You’re not the type. Just because you’re quiet and kind doesn’t mean you’re a pushover. You’d never have managed Knights Bridge Free Public Library if you were a pushover.”
Phoebe laughed. “That’s for sure.”
Olivia slowed for a curve. “That’s what Noah sees, you know. He believes in you.”
They arrived at the airport.
Noah’s plane hadn’t taken off yet.
Phoebe had a strong suspicion that Dylan had given his friend advance warning. The pilot greeted her by name and escorted her to the private jet himself.
Noah was there, fresh out of the shower, in a clean black shirt and dark jeans. He looked every inch the billionaire he was. He had champagne waiting, and when she sat next to him on a leather seat, Phoebe knew there was nowhere else on the planet she’d rather be.
*
Brandon slept on the couch at Maggie’s “gingerbread” house off Knights Bridge common. It hadn’t sustained any damage, but he said he wanted to be close to the boys their first night after their scare. Maggie didn’t mind. It made sense, she told herself. Tyler and Aidan needed both parents.
Brandon had an early start at work. He hadn’t even stayed for coffee.
It was almost as if he hadn’t been there.
The second night, however, was a different story.
His folks took the boys for the night. Christopher had promised he’d show his nephews some basic search-and-rescue techniques. Tyler and Aidan were so excited, Maggie couldn’t say no, although she was reluctant to be apart from them. Never in her life had she had such a scare as when she’d arrived at the library after the storm.
She still wasn’t over it, she thought as she crossed the yard to Grace Webster’s old house—the one Dylan’s father had bought and then left to him, a simple act that, ultimately, had changed all their lives.
The heat of two days ago eased with the storm; it was downright chilly. Maggie had promised her in-laws that she’d drop off a jug of corn chowder for Brandon. She and her mother and younger sisters had made up tons with fresh corn from the garden.
He stood by an open fire in front of his tent. “It’s still warm,” she said, handing the chowder to him.
“Thanks, Maggie.”
She heard something in his voice but couldn’t figure out what it was. He had a blanket spread out on the grass between his tent and the crackling fire. She appreciated the warmth of the flames.
“Sit with me a minute?” he asked her.