me you’ll get together. Promise me you’ll keep the Gingerbread Girls alive. Promise me you’ll all follow your dreams, the ones we talked about that day by the lake. I still have my rock. Sometimes I hold it and think back to that day.
You are all the best friends I could ever hope for and I will be forever grateful for the summers we spent together.
Melissa
Tears blurred the letter in Emily’s eyes. She drew in a shaky breath, then propped the letter beside the computer, holding it in place with a small oval stone that she had kept with her for the past fifteen years. Somewhere out there, two other matching stones sat in drawers or on desks, or somewhere. Did Andrea and Casey see the stones the same way? Did they remember that day?
The women had fallen out of touch over the years, separated by busy lives and families. Maybe it was time to get the Gingerbread Girls back together. Before Emily could think twice, she shot off a quick email to both Andrea and Casey, including her cell phone number and an invitation to come to the inn. She left off the news about the For Sale sign, because she hoped to find a way to talk Carol out of that choice.
And in the process, she would write this book, damn it. She would follow her dreams. Emily needed this do over. Needed it...a lot.
A knock sounded on the door. Emily got to her feet and opened the bedroom door to Carol. “Good timing,” Emily said with a laugh. “I’ve got writer’s block on the first word.”
“I’ve got some coffee and cookies that should help with that,” Carol said. “But first, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Someone here to see me?” How could that be? She’d told no one where she was going, and had only sent the email to the other girls a couple minutes ago. Unless they were in the driveway when they got it, there was no way either Andrea or Casey could show up that fast. No one else would be able to track her down so quickly. No one but—
“Cole.”
Carol grinned. “How’d you guess? Yes, he’s here. Waiting in the parlor to talk to you.” Then her good friend’s face fell. “Are you okay, honey? Do you want me to tell him to come back later?”
“No.” Emily knew Cole and knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The qualities that had made him a successful businessman had made him a terrible husband. Win at all costs. That pretty much summed up Cole. When they’d been dating, she’d seen that attitude as one that meant he wanted her and their life together more than anything in the world. But she’d been wrong. What Cole wanted, more than anything or anyone, was success, regardless of the cost to attain it. Then as the years went on, he’d employed that approach to arguments, major decisions, everything. She’d had enough and walked away.
But Cole refused to get the message.
“I’ll talk to him,” Emily said. “Just give me a minute.”
“Sure, hon. Take whatever time you need. I’ll talk his ear off. Might as well make him suffer.” Carol let out a little laugh, then put an understanding hand on Emily’s arm. “If it helps, he looks miserable.”
Emily thanked Carol, then shut the door. She faced her reflection in the oval mirror that hung over the antique dresser. She was still clad in a pair of pale blue flannel pajamas, her hair in a messy topknot on her head, and her face bare of makeup. She looked a million miles away from Cole Watson’s wife.
Perfect.
Without doing so much as tucking a wayward strand of hair back into place, Emily spun on her sock-clad feet and headed out of the room and down to the parlor. She no longer cared what she looked like when she saw Cole. She was no longer going to be the woman who stressed about every crease, every spot, who worried about her public image as the CEO’s wife. She was going to be who she was—before.
Cole stood by the window, his back to her. He wore a tailored dark blue suit that emphasized his broad shoulders, tapered waist, the hours he spent in the gym. His dark hair was getting a little long and now brushed against the back of his collar. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, just as it always had. That was one thing that had never changed—her attraction to him. Her hormones had never listened to her brain.
He turned as she approached, even though she’d made almost no sound entering the room. “What are you doing here?” he said, or rather, barked.
So much for some kind of tender moment. What had she expected, really? They were no longer together, and maybe someday her heart would get the message. “How did you find me?”
“There is only one place in the world that you have talked about missing, and it’s this place. I took a chance that’s where you’d go, and I was right.”
Well, he’d listened to her talk about the inn. Too bad he hadn’t listened to any of the other problems between them. “Where I am and what I’m doing is no longer your concern, Cole,” she said.
“You’re my wife, Emily.”
“We’ve been separated for six months. I’m not your anything anymore.”
His face took on a pained look, but it disappeared a split second later. “Be that as it may, I should at least know where you are, in case something happens.”
“Well, now you know.” She turned on her heel and headed out of the room.
He caught up to her, his hand reaching for her, but not connecting, as if he’d just remembered they were no longer together. She noticed the glint of gold, the ring he still wore. Because he hadn’t thought to take it off? Or because he hadn’t given up yet?
“Wait,” he said. “Don’t go. I want to talk to you.”
She wheeled around. When she met his blue eyes, a little hitch caught in her throat. A hitch she cursed. “We’re done talking, Cole. Nothing’s changed in ten years—nothing’s changing now. Just—” she let out a long sigh “—let me go. Please.”
And this time, he did just as she asked. Emily walked out of the room, and Cole didn’t follow. She paused at the top of the stairs, waiting until she heard the click of the door. Then she returned to her room, put a hand on her belly and told herself she’d done the right thing.
* * *
Cole stood on the ramshackle porch for a long time. How had it got to this point? What had he missed?
There had been a time when he could smile at Emily, or take her out for a night on the town, and whatever was wrong between them would disappear for a while. But this time, he’d sensed a distance, a wall that had never been there before. Or maybe he’d just never noticed it until now.
Until his wife had crossed two states to get away from him. To this place, this...inn.
He glanced at the run-down house behind him. The overgrown grounds. The peeling paint. Why had Emily come here, of all the places in the world? With what they had in their joint bank account, she could have afforded a five-star hotel in the south of France. Instead, she came to this...
Mess.
Frustration built inside him, but there was nowhere to go with that feeling. Nowhere but back home to New York, and to work. He took a step off the porch, and as he did, a crunch sounded beneath his foot and the top step crumpled beneath his weight, sending his leg crashing through a hole and down onto the soft earth below. He let out a curse, then yanked his leg out.
The door opened. Cole’s hopes rose, then sank, when he saw the inn’s owner, Carol, not Emily, come onto the porch. “Are you okay? I thought I heard a crash,” Carol said.
“The step broke.” Cole put up a hand of caution. “That porch isn’t safe. You might want to block it off or hire someone to fix it.”
“Okay.” One word, spoken on a sigh, topped by a frown.
Cole had been in business long