Bachelor Games in Good Hope Page 2

  Had she thought he’d try to convince her to give him another chance? Perhaps had even envisioned him begging?

  If so, that would only show she didn’t know him at all.

  Chapter Two

  Bea tried not to listen. Truly, she did. But the shop was small, and the music system glitchy. And Stella’s husky voice carried.

  She was breaking off their relationship. Clay didn’t appear to catch on, at least not right away, but Bea knew instantly.

  The second she realized that, she really didn’t want to eavesdrop on what should be a private conversation. But, as if oblivious to Bea’s presence in the store, Stella made no attempt to modulate her voice.

  Well, Clay didn’t need to worry about her telling tales. Bea didn’t gossip. She also subscribed to the belief that some things should remain private, and in this case, that something was a breakup.

  She took her time reshelving books at the front of the shop, then went to work on the already clean windows and doors. There was nothing like sparkling glass to bolster her mood.

  The quick click of heels on hardwood coming in her direction had Bea straightening and stepping away from the door.

  Stella didn’t spare her a sideways glance, simply strode past her in red three-inch heels as if the place was on fire and it was every woman for herself.

  “Have a good evening,” Bea called after her retreating back, though the door had already shut.

  “I don’t think she heard you.”

  Clay’s voice had her jumping. She turned, and he was right there. Looking better than any man had a right to look…and smelling terrific.

  Unlike when he’d strolled into her shop thirty minutes ago, his smile was nowhere in sight.

  “How’d you like the coffee?” It was an inane remark, but the only other topic that popped into Bea’s mind at the moment was the weather.

  “It was good.” He gestured with the cup he held that was nearly half full. “I let it go cold.”

  “I’ll give you another,” she offered. “On the house.”

  She assumed he’d turn that down, but he surprised her by flashing a smile.

  “I’d like that,” he said. “But I insist on paying. It isn’t your fault I let it grow cold.”

  No, Bea thought, it was Stella’s fault. She only smiled.

  Taking the cup from his hand, Bea moved behind the counter, where the stainless-steel coffee machine sat. There were four rarely used swivel stools at the counter. If customers ordered coffee, they most often took it to one of the tables.

  Clay dropped down onto one of the stools, and when she turned, his gaze was fixed on her. “I suppose you heard.”

  “I did.” Bea knew it’d be foolish to deny it. “Please know I won’t say anything. What happens in Book & Cup stays in Book & Cup.”

  Gratitude flashed in those warm gray eyes, and he nodded. When he pulled out a couple of bills and handed them to her, Bea took them.

  The way she saw it, he’d had enough hassle today.

  Clay took a sip of the steaming brew, then glanced around the bookstore. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

  “I believe we fill a need in the community.” Taking her cue from him, Bea poured herself a cup, then sat on a wooden stool behind the counter. She could take a break for one of her regulars. “Storytime for preschoolers is quite a draw. The two book clubs have been going for five years now and average ten members each. The book clubs will break for the summer in a couple weeks—everyone gets busy—then start up again in the fall.”

  Bea stopped when she realized she’d been rambling.

  Clay sipped his coffee. “Running a bookstore in today’s digital age can be difficult. It sounds like you’re doing a lot of things right.”

  “We try.”

  “Is Judy very involved?”

  Bea hesitated. “She’s active in both book clubs, and she comes in to work the weekends.”

  “That’s probably why I never see her. I only stop by during the week.” His gaze drifted to the doorway before refocusing on her. “My sister and the town board are constantly looking for ways to promote the merchants.”

  That’s right, Bea thought, his sister was the mayor.

  “Are you speaking about the expansion along Wrigley?” she asked, knowing his brother was one of the three men developing the area on the outskirts of Good Hope.

  Bea hadn’t been certain that was the road to take for this conversation. Now, as she saw the tension ease from Clay’s shoulders, she realized taking his mind off his breakup with Stella had been exactly the right move.

  “Yes. Changing the zoning from ag to commercial allowed the Triad group to develop that area for retail shops.”

  “I was surprised to learn the land along that stretch was originally ag.” Bea reveled in the warmth of the ceramic cup she held. “What with the Ding-A-Ling being along that road.”

  Clay shrugged. “Apparently, back when the bar was built, the owner got an exemption that allowed a business to go in there.”

  “Your brother has a big stake in the development of the area.”

  “David is one-third of Triad.” A smile lifted the corners of Clay’s lips. “I don’t know how he handles everything, but he does.”

  Bea knew that everything included not only a successful architectural practice and the Triad group, but a wife and two kids, one of them a baby.

  “Are you looking forward to the wedding?” It was a change of topic, but how much could you talk about someone’s brother? Might as well move on to the sister.

  “It should be quite the spectacle.” Clay shook his head. “I never thought Greer would be someone who’d want a big wedding, but she seems to be enjoying the planning. My mother, well, she is having a ball.”

  “It’s in three weeks?”

  He paused. Thought for a moment. “Four.”

  “That will be here in no time.” She sipped her coffee.

  Even though Wyatt, Greer’s fiancé, had brothers, he’d tapped David to be his best man and Clay for one of the groomsmen.

  “What are you and David doing for a bachelor party?”

  Since Clay and his brother were the only groomsmen living in Good Hope, it was up to them to plan the event. She wondered if Stella had forgotten about the big wedding just around the corner. Breaking up with Clay so soon before the high-profile event didn’t seem her style.

  Clay laughed aloud. “You won’t believe it.”

  His good humor was contagious, and Bea found herself smiling back. “Tell me.”

  “Wyatt and Greer have opted for a joint party at the Ding-A-Ling.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Neither are wild and raucous types. Since the reception will be over the top, they opted for something more personal.”

  “Karaoke at the Ding-A-Ling.” Bea shook her head and grinned. “That should be fun.”

  “The bar holds a lot of special memories for the two of them.”

  Bea thought a joint party sounded like fun.

  “Stella thought it was ridiculous,” he said out of the blue.

  “Another reason the bride and groom should do what they want. Everyone has an opinion.” Bea kept her tone light. “When Stella marries, she can have her reception at Member’s Clubhouse in Egg Harbor and go to Paris for her honeymoon.”

  Recalling what Stella had said about Paris, Bea wished she could pull the words back the second the destination left her mouth.

  If Clay noticed, he gave no indication. Instead, he simply nodded and lifted his cup in a mock toast. “Absolutely correct.”

  They talked for several minutes more about upcoming events until Clay finished his coffee and stood, shouldering his book bag. “I’ve got a meeting to prep for, so I better head out.”

  He hesitated and looked at her, really looked at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Thanks for the coffee, Bea.”

  Why was it that her name, plain ol’ Bea, sounded different on his tongue?

  “You
’re welcome.”

  “And for the conversation.” The smile he flashed didn’t quite meet his eyes. A hint of sadness lurked in the gray depths.

  Bea realized he’d cared for the brunette a little more than he was letting on. Bea wanted to tell him he’d dodged a bullet, that Stella was a conniver, and he was lucky he found out what she was really like before it was too late. But that, she knew, was something he needed to realize on his own.

  “I enjoyed it,” she said simply.

  “I did, too.” His gaze settled on her face for another long moment. Then he lifted a hand in farewell and walked out the door.

  Bea brought a finger to tingling lips when he’d disappeared from sight. Something about the way he’d looked at her had her wondering what it’d be like to kiss him.

  She laughed at the ridiculous thought. Gorgeous guys like Clay Chapin didn’t want to kiss women like her. Those kinds of men were interested in women like Stella or Bea’s sister, Brittany.

  Even though Bea and her sister were twins, and she thought Britt quite lovely, it was Britt’s vivacious spark that had boys—and now men—flocking to her since middle school.

  Bea, well, she’d been content—or mostly content—to live in Britt’s shadow, to enjoy high school life vicariously through her sister’s adventures, while focusing on her own studies. Even now that they were adults, her sister’s career as a social media specialist for an East Coast NBA team seemed far more exciting than Bea’s job at the bookshop.

  If Bea had envied Britt, coveted the life Britt had built for herself, their relationship might have faltered. But Bea was happy for her sister and satisfied—mostly—with her own life in Good Hope.

  She had friends.

  She had a job she enjoyed.

  Her sister didn’t understand how Bea could be content in Good Hope. Britt was always telling her she needed to spread her wings and soar. Which was what her sister had done.

  Britt had left for college, vowing she wouldn’t come back. She’d kept that vow.

  Bea had remained close to home, attending the University of Wisconsin in Madison. She’d looked forward to spending summers in Good Hope. But when she’d returned after that first year of college, she’d come back to an apartment, not a home.

  The spring of her freshman year, her dad’s job as a general manager in the hospitality industry had taken him to Philadelphia. Her mother had been enthusiastic about the relocation. Her parents had built a solid life for themselves in Pennsylvania.

  The jingling of bells over the door had Bea glancing up.

  Looking big-city chic, Marigold Rallis strolled into the bookstore.

  “Marigold,” Bea called out with a teasing smile. “I thought you’d be busy making people beautiful.”

  The perky blonde with the mass of golden curls had been Bea’s lab partner in high school. The youngest of the four Bloom sisters, all with lovely flower names, had been as popular as her older sisters.

  Marigold and Britt were friends. Now, Bea considered the award-winning hairstylist to be a friend of hers as well.

  Marigold, a well-known hairstylist in Chicago circles, brought many of her celebrity clients with her when she’d returned to Good Hope. The temporary move several years ago had turned permanent when she’d married the town sheriff. Marigold owned a shop only a couple of blocks from the bookstore.

  Lines of fatigue edged Marigold’s eyes, and her normally vivaciousness was nowhere in sight.

  “I had a doctor’s appointment, so I blocked out the rest of the afternoon.” Marigold sniffed the air. “Am I hallucinating, or do I smell blueberries?”

  “It’s the coffee flavor of the day.” Though Bea normally tried to limit her afternoon caffeine intake, she’d make an exception. “If you’d like a cup, I’ll take a break and join you.”

  Marigold hesitated. “I could use a boost. Since you don’t serve alcohol, I’ll go with door number two and take the caffeine.”

  Bea waved her over to a table near the window. She hoped the sunlight streaming through the glass would bolster Marigold’s mood. “Have a seat. I’ll get the coffee.”

  “Are you sure I’m not keeping you—”

  “You’re not.” Bea’s tone softened. “Even if you were, you look as if you could use a friend right about now.”

  Marigold’s lips quirked up. “I thought I hid it so well.”

  It didn’t take long before Bea slid into the chair opposite her friend.

  The blonde took a long sip of the steaming brew and briefly closed her eyes. “This is good.”

  Bea smiled, pleased to see her friend relax.

  “Was that Stella I saw coming out of here?”

  This time, it was Bea’s turn to tense. “Yes, she was just in here.”

  Marigold’s gaze grew thoughtful. “I thought it was her, but I was far away. Then I ran into Clay outside your store.”

  Bea considered what to say. Clay’s story wasn’t hers to tell, but she also didn’t want to lie to her friend. “Yep, they were in here together. I don’t know her personally, though.”

  Marigold wrinkled her nose. “Count yourself lucky.”

  “You don’t like her?”

  “None of us do.” Marigold paused and appeared to consider her words, as if she’d spoken too quickly. Then she shook her head. “No. It’s true. None of us like her.”

  Bea realized none likely included everyone in the Bloom and Chapin extended families, excluding Clay. Though how he felt about his former girlfriend at this moment was anyone’s guess. “What is it about her you don’t like?”

  “She’s superficial.” As Marigold took a long drink of coffee, she closed her eyes for a second. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine. I realize now just how much I missed it.”

  “Why were you avoiding caffeine?”

  “Trying to be as healthy as possible during all this fertility stuff.” Marigold made a face. “Lot of good that’s done me.”

  Bea was aware that Marigold and her husband had been trying for over a year to get pregnant.

  Marigold heaved a sigh and set down the cup. “We’ve done everything, including IVF—which costs a fortune. And still nothing.”

  “I’m sorry.” Bea reached across the table and gave Marigold’s hand a squeeze. “I wish I could do something.”

  “Do you happen to have any spare magic wands lying around?” Marigold gestured with one hand toward the shop. “Or some fairy dust? I think Cade and I are at that point.”

  Though her words were light, the sigh Marigold expelled told Bea the toll today’s doctor’s visit had taken on her friend.

  “Fresh out of magic wands and fairy dust.” Bea kept her tone equally light, because she sensed that’s what Marigold wanted.

  “I can’t believe my sisters get pregnant like that.” Marigold snapped her fingers, and her eyes filled with sorrow. “I try everything, and it still doesn’t happen.”

  Bea might have pointed out that Marigold had a very successful career and had built a good life, but that wasn’t what they were talking about. Wanting a child, and being denied that desire, was very different.

  It was something Bea couldn’t relate to, other than she knew her friend was hurting. “Have you looked at other options? Surrogacy? Fostering? Adoption?”

  “Yes. Yes. And yes.” Marigold sighed. “We completed all the paperwork for adoption months ago, but waited to turn it in. We wanted to see how the IVF went first. We could try in vitro again, but, well, it costs so much money.”

  “I’ve heard it’s really expensive.”

  “It is. And the drugs take a toll on the body.” Marigold expelled a breath and lifted her cup. “Like I told Cade, we gave it a try. Now we can move forward with adoption. But we’ve been warned that someone choosing us to adopt their child, well, that might take years. Again, no guarantee.”

  As Marigold didn’t mention surrogacy or fostering, Bea didn’t bring them up. “Are you looking to adopt a baby? Or will you consider an older child?”
<
br />   “We’d love a baby.” A soft look stole over Marigold’s face. “But we’re open to an older child, too. Cade and I just want to be parents. We have so much love to give. That may sound corny, but—”

  “It doesn’t.” Bea offered a reassuring smile. “You guys will be fabulous parents. It will happen for you.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You’re way ahead of me.” Bea’s tone turned teasing. “You already found the love of your life. I’m still on the hunt.”

  As Bea hoped, Marigold’s smile widened and reached her eyes. “I seem to recall offering to fix you up.”

  “You have, many times.” Bea gave an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’m just hoping to find Mr. Right on my own. The trouble is I haven’t run across anyone who gives me the slightest buzz.”

  Even as she spoke the words, Bea realized they weren’t entirely the truth. Every time Clay walked through the door of the shop, her heart gave a little leap and her palms grew sweaty.

  “You’ll find him,” Marigold assured her. “Just give it time.”

  “I’m not in any hurry. I—”

  Marigold’s phone chimed. She glanced at the display and smiled. “Cade wants me to stop by the station.”

  “Go.” Bea rose and made a shooing motion. “Tell him hello from me.”

  Standing, Marigold grabbed her bag. “How much for the coffee?”

  “It’s free.”

  “Bea...” Marigold’s tone held a warning.

  “I’ve set you back on the road to caffeine. That’s payment enough.”

  “Thank you. For the coffee and for the ear.” Marigold wrapped her arms around Bea and gave her a quick squeeze. “Talk soon.”

  Bea watched her friend leave, then turned the Open sign on the door to Closed, relieved she hadn’t had to answer any more questions about Clay and Stella’s visit to the shop.

  Marigold wanted a baby so badly.

  Bea glanced down at her flat belly. What would it be like to be in love? To want a child together?

  She gave a little laugh. She was years from that happening, if ever. Right now, she was content with her life and in no hurry for anything to change.