Rewrite Our Story: A Small Town Best Friend’s Brother Second Chance Romance (Sutten Mountain)

LIGHT POURS through the window of my room, stirring me from dreams of the past. I reach across the bed, expecting to find warmth from Cade’s body.

There’s no warmth. My hand brushes over cold, empty sheets. I don’t know why I’d expected to find him here with me this morning. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s gone.

He’d even told me he only needed help taking the pain away in the night. I’m not what he needs to help in the daylight.

It’s the same thing from all those years ago when he took the pain away from me in the night and was responsible for the pain and longing in my heart during the day.

I sigh, turning in the bed to stare up at the ceiling. The orange glow filtering through the drawn curtains tells me that it’s still pretty early in the morning. I always used to be an early riser until after I got my first publishing deal. After that, I learned that my words flow better in the silence of the night. I’d spent many nights in front of my laptop and many days in bed, catching up on just enough sleep to write through the night again.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I ignore it. Or at least I try to. When it rings from the second call, I groan and reach across the bed to grab it.

Just as I expected, I find my agent’s name on the screen. Swiping to answer, I mentally prepare myself for a slew of questions on the current state of my manuscript.

“Hi Rudy,” I say with a sigh.

“Good morning,” he responds cheerfully. He always sounds so cheerful for someone who is constantly giving me lectures. I can’t be too upset with him. He risked taking me on when I was a young debut author. “I was calling to check in on you.”

“On me or the manuscript?”

He scoffs on the other line. “I’m not that cold, Marigold. I know the funeral was yesterday. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

I’m not good or bad. I’m just numb. I’ve felt so many emotions recently that I don’t want to feel anything at all. I hold my tongue and don’t tell him that, though. Rudy is my agent, not my therapist. Although sometimes I may use him as both.

“About as expected,” I comment, running my hand over the spot Cade vacated. Linda’s death hit hard. But so has being back in the presence of the only man I’ve ever loved.

“Whatever you need from me, you just tell me. Your team is here if you need us.”

I’d already turned over all my social media accounts to my publicist before my writing retreat, wanting to focus solely on finishing the manuscript that was so beyond late. Not that I was really active on my accounts even before my last ditch effort to finish this book. I preferred to stay off social media, not wanting to see the posts of people from the past.

When I left Sutten, I told myself I had to really quit it. I couldn’t be half in and half out. That’s why I never returned until now. That included using my socials to keep in touch with people from school.

The biggest thing was that I didn’t want to see anything that had to do with Cade. I didn’t want to know who he was dating, or what he was doing. Pippa didn’t really mention him and neither did Linda. I think they always knew something was off, even though I never quite told them what’d happened between Cade and me.

“Marigold? Are you still there?”

I jump, totally forgetting that I’d been on the phone with Rudy. “Yeah. Sorry, I think the service might be spotty here.”

“Since I’ve got you…” he begins, his words trailing off.

I let out a pent up breath, knowing exactly where he’s going. “I haven’t had time to write anything,” I interrupt.

“Understandable.” I know him well enough to know there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice. I hate it. The last thing I want to do is let down him and the publishing house that took a risk on me.

“Things shouldn’t be so hectic now. I should have more time to write.”

“Do you know how it’s going to end?” he asks.

I chew on my lip. “Maybe,” I lie. When we’d sold the duet to the publishing house, I’d expected a different outcome for the two characters. When I’d plotted and released the first book, I had this vivid plan on how the second book–and the characters’ love story–would end. But now that I’m writing the conclusion to their love story, nothing feels right. I hadn’t quite admitted that to him yet. If it were up to me and if I wasn’t under such immense pressure, I’d scrap the story completely and start all over.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says enthusiastically. “Can’t wait to read it.”

That makes two of us.

Now I just need to write it…

He runs over a few more business things with me before he ends the call. I actually didn’t mind starting the morning doing a bit of work with him. It gives me an excuse to not go downstairs. I don’t know what it’s going to look like seeing Cade. Will he finally acknowledge I’m here and actually forgive me? Unlikely. Will he pretend that he didn’t spend all night clutching me to his body like he was afraid I was going to disappear? Probably.

I’m halfway into putting my hair up when the door is pushed open and a sleepy-eyed Pippa stands in the doorway. It’s clear she hadn’t spent much time getting herself ready. Her hair is braided, but it looks like maybe she’d slept in it from the tendrils that messily spill out of the woven hair.

She stifles a yawn as she crosses my room and belly flops onto the bed. “I think I hibernated last night,” she says, her voice muffled as she speaks against the comforter.

I pull an elastic from my wrist and twist it around the pile of hair on top of my head, forming a messy bun. “That’s good, Pip. You needed to sleep.”

“I don’t think I woke up once.”

“I’m actually shocked you’re up this early. I figured you’d sleep the day away.”

She turns on the bed, catching my eyes through the mirror as I dab some blush onto my cheeks to give myself some form of color. “I thought about it,” she answers sadly.

I turn in my seat, looking her in the eye. “No one would blame you if you did.”

She takes a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions at bay. That’s the thing about Pippa. She’s always had such big emotions, it’s hard for her to hide them. It works out when she’s happy because her happiness is infectious. But when she’s sad, she can’t hide it, no matter how much she wants to. It’s hard not to be upset right along with her.

“I know,” she finally gets out. “But I don’t want to just stay in bed. The way I see it is that I could lie in bed and be sad, or I could be sad and actually be productive. I’m choosing to be productive. At least that way I get out of my head a little.”

“If that’s what you want to do.” I get up and cross the room before plopping down on the bed next to her. I hadn’t got around to making it quite yet, and the side I lie on smells just like Cade. She must be so caught up in her own head that she doesn’t notice.

I grab Pippa’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m here for whatever you need. If you’re wanting to go into the bakery, how about I join you? I can sit in a corner and write until you need help with something.”

“You don’t have to do that. You can work here if you want.”

And risk seeing Cade alone? No thank you. I’m not emotionally ready for him to pretend like we didn’t share a moment last night. If I learned anything as a teenager, it’s that Cade Jennings is good at pretending I don’t exist, even if he was crawling into my bed at night. My heart isn’t calloused the way it used to be at him ignoring me but I’m not ready to face him.

I can’t even be mad at him if he does end up acting like nothing happened. How can I be mad at him when his mom just died? The answer is I can’t.

So instead, I’ll avoid being alone with him at all costs. And if that means following Pippa to the conjoined bakery and coffee shop she owns, then so be it.

I fly off the bed and head toward my open suitcase, searching for something to wear. “I want to go with you. Plus, I’ve never seen the shop. It’s time we change that.”

Pippa rolls over on the bed, her feet kicking the air. “I invited you to the opening. You didn’t show.”

A twinge of guilt rattles through me. There were so many things I missed out on because I was too chicken to face Cade—my best friend opening her dream bakery and coffee shop being one of them. I strip out of my pajamas and slide a pair of worn jeans up my legs. “Shittiest best friend award goes to me,” I say, only half-joking.

She purses her lips. “You were busy becoming famous and all. Me opening the shop wasn’t as cool.”

I smack her butt with my sweatshirt before pulling it onto my body. “Shut up. I’m hardly famous. You’re known more around here than I am thanks to your kickass cupcakes.”

Pippa rolls her eyes at me. “You were on like five morning talk shows because your book was sold out everywhere. Admit it, Mare, you’re famous.”

I go back to finishing my makeup, coating my lashes in mascara before we go out in public.

“You were on the news, too. Your mom sent me the link to watch it,” I counter.

Pippa crawls off the bed once she realizes that I’m almost ready for the day. All I need to do is make sure I have my notebook, laptop, and charger to take to the cafe.

“The local news,” she corrects.

“The video online had tons of views.”

Her dark eyebrows raise on her forehead. “Only because with a name like Wake and Bake Cafe, people thought we were selling weed.”

I laugh. “Hey, if you ever want to dive into that area, you’ve got the name for it.”

She rolls her eyes. “The wake is the caffeine, the bake for, you know—the bakes. There’s no weed to be seen there. At least that I know of,” she adds at the last minute.

We continue to laugh about all the attention she got when she opened—due to the name of her shop—as we make our way downstairs. I stop dead in my tracks when I find Cade sitting at the counter, an open computer in front of him as he holds a mug of coffee to his lips.

Pippa stops at the counter in front of him. She grabs the mug right from his hands, taking a drink of his coffee without even asking.

He gives her an annoyed look, carefully pulling the steaming cup from her grasp. “Pippa,” he argues. “Get your own coffee.”

Pippa gives him an unbothered smile. She shrugs. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t being a traitor and drinking any other blend than Wake and Bake’s.”

He refuses to look over at me, despite me stopping in the kitchen to join them. “I think you’ve thrown away all evidence of any other coffee beans in the house except the ones that have come from you.”

“As it should be,” she says proudly. Pippa focuses on me, turning her back to her brother. “Are you fine with waiting on coffee until we get to the cafe? I’ve got an idea I want you to try.”

I look away from Cade, willing him to look at me instead so I can get an idea of how it’s going to be between us. I meet Pippa’s eyes. “That’s perfect for me. I’m ready when you are.”

Pippa grabs her keys from the bowl on the island, focusing on her brother once again. “We’ll be at Wake and Bake if you need us.”

“Goodbye Pip,” he says, taking another sip of his coffee.

I’m shocked by him flat out ignoring me after us spending all night together, but I still follow closely behind Pippa. I’m barely out of earshot when I hear him say. “Bye, Marigold.”

The use of my full name—and the icy tone in his voice—tells me two things. He isn’t going to flat out ignore me. He’s just going to act cold all over again.

Having him look at me with something other than anger was nice while it lasted.