Free A Small-Town Reunion by Terry McLaughlin Page A

Addie and took a seat. “I wish there was something I could do.”
    “I appreciate that.”
    “Yeah, well, you’d appreciate it a lot more if I actually did something other than make you cry.”
    “You didn’t make me cry. I did that to myself. And I feel much better now.” Addie sucked in a deep, cleansing breath and then rubbed a hand over Charlie’s shoulder. “And you’re here, keeping me company on your day off and listening to all my troubles. You’re a good friend. I’m lucky to have you.”
    “There you go again.” Charlie shook her head. “Comforting someone who doesn’t need it as much as you do.”
    “We could talk about what kind of a veil would match that dress. And hairstyles.” Addie scrubbed hercheeks with the heels of her hands. “That would cheer me up.”
    “Good ol’ Addie.” Charlie scowled. “Always looking for a silver lining.”
     
    T HOUGH M ONDAY MORNINGS didn’t necessarily start a new workweek for Dev—particularly during term breaks—he’d decided long ago to treat them that way.
    Sort of. Sometimes.
    So it was with a number of worthwhile intentions that he rolled out of bed an hour after his alarm went off. Lingering over his morning coffee, he enjoyed the first several chapters of a novel he’d picked up in the bookstore near the marina. After a long, steamy shower, he stretched his legs with a hike down to the beach before raiding Julia’s pantry for brunch supplies. By the time noon arrived, he was primed to be productive: to make a meaningful start on that story he planned to finish by summer’s end.
    But first he’d make a trip to town. Knowing there were errands to be done could trash a writer’s concentration and interfere with story development.
    Especially errands like this one. When a guy couldn’t get a woman out of his mind, that was a huge distraction. The worst kind of interference with the creative process, Dev told himself as he turned a corner and started down Cove Street toward A Slice of Light.
    Just to see if Addie’s shop was open today.
    And why wouldn’t it be open on a Monday during the tourist season?
    Yep, she was there, he saw as he drove past her shop door. Lights on, sign in door window. Perfect chance to stop in and say hello.
    Again.
    What had he been thinking, coming here again so soon? It had only been a couple of days since his last surprise visit—what kind of progress could she possibly have made on Geneva’s windows in such a short amount of time? Just because his grandmother had handed him the perfect excuse to drop by, he couldn’t keep using checks on the repairs as the reasons for his visits. Addie would think he was making a pest of himself, and she’d be right.
    But he still needed to see her. To get her out of his head.
    He took a short trip around the block and aimed again for her shop. Slowing near an open spot at the curb, he flipped on his signal and angled close to the car ahead to begin the proper parallel parking procedure. And then he shifted back to Drive and pulled away, wondering if Addie had witnessed that knuckleheaded maneuver through one of her big shop windows.
    What in the hell would he have said to her after he’d walked in? After hello—then what? Nice day, isn’t it? How’s business so far today?
    Interested in striking up our old friendship while I’m in town this summer?
    Except they’d never been friends, not really. Not when he’d found her in Julia’s kitchen and they’d sat in silence, feasting on milk and cookies. Not in those moments they’d passed each other in the crowded school hallways and murmured quiet acknowledgements. Not even when he’d fixed her broken locker, or she’d painted a sign for his club’s homecoming booth.
    Had he imagined some connection that hadn’t been there at all?
    You need to pay more attention.
    No, he hadn’t imagined the flare of heat in her eyes that day she’d dropped her books near the school parking lot. And he hadn’t imagined the