To Get Me To You: A Small Town Southern Romance (Wishful Romance Book 1) (4 page)

“Welcome home?”

“He’s leaving the service and coming home to Wishful.”

The eldest of four, Liam Montgomery and his two brothers had been in the Marines almost as long as Cam could remember. “Wow. I know she’s thrilled. Anything I can do to help?”
Please say no
. All he really wanted at this point was to get on home. But if they needed anything, he’d suck it up and deal.

“Not right now, but I’ll let you know. The party’s at Speakeasy day after tomorrow.”

Translation:
Your presence is expected.

Cam held in a sigh. Yet another social engagement he couldn’t dodge. At this rate he was earning some serious cave time. He rose to escort her out to her car. “I’ll be sure to make some time to stop by and welcome him home.”

Sandra rose to her toes to kiss his cheek. “Go home and enjoy your quiet, darlin’. I know you’re always worn out by all the social of the holidays, and Miranda’s going to expect you at her New Year’s Eve party.”

He groaned. “Why do I need to be there? The world is going to be there.”

She patted his cheek. “Because you are
not
spending another year at home
alone
with your dog. You need to be out with other young people having a good time. And you will go because she’s family and it will make her happy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sometimes family obligations were a real bitch.

Chapter 3

At the sound of the crash, Norah jolted upright, hands clenching on the steering wheel as a scream clogged in her throat. But her car was still idling at the light, all in one piece. In park.

When had she done that?

Another tap came on the window. A tap. Not the crash in her dream. “Are you all right?”

Norah turned toward the muffled voice, her brain refusing to engage. A woman hunched outside the passenger side window, concern written across her face.

A car honked behind her, and Norah realized the light was finally green. Before she could shift back into drive, the big truck whipped around her to make the left on to Spring Street, proving that Chicago didn’t have the market cornered on impatient drivers.

The woman still stood at the window. Norah rolled it down. “I’m…” What? Not fine. She’d just fallen asleep at the wheel at a stoplight. Thank God this was Wishful instead of somewhere with more traffic. “I must’ve dozed off.”

The woman flashed a pair of dimples. “Well, it is a notoriously long light. Still, why don’t you pull over up here and park? Come in and have some coffee.” She gestured at the sign for Sweet Magnolias Bakery.

Getting off the road seemed like an excellent plan. “Yeah, okay.”

Careful to actually watch for other vehicles, Norah made the turn and parked along the curb. The woman stood holding the door of the bakery open. She wore a red apron printed with a cartoon cat and the slogan
Sass. I haz it.
scrawled beneath.

“Thank you.” Norah stepped inside. Scents of sweets and spice and chocolate wrapped around her like the welcoming arms of a favorite grandmother and her mouth immediately began to water.

“Have a seat.” The woman gestured to the cluster of brightly painted, mismatched tables and chairs. “I saw you nod off in your car and thought I’d better check on you before you rolled into oncoming traffic.”

“Thanks for that. The light was taking forever, and I must’ve slipped the car into park while I was waiting.”

“Thank God for small mercies.” She moved behind the stretch of glass cases to pour two cups of coffee. “The sensor’s been broken since they put in the light. You were only out for a couple of minutes.”

“Long enough to prove I need to get off the road.” Norah accepted a steaming mug. “Thank you.”

The proprietress slid into the chair across the table. “Long drive?”

“Set out from Chicago at five this morning after…not a lot of sleep.” She’d decided it was time to get the hell out of town and finally make that visit to Miranda. Coming to Wishful was the only action she’d taken since her confrontation with Pierce and Philip that she
hadn’t
questioned a thousand times over. Including the fact that when she left this morning, she’d mass blocked every area code in Chicago from her phone. For the next week, she was completely checking out.

“Oh you poor thing.” The woman laid her hand over Norah’s in a quick gesture of comfort. “Do you have much further to go?”

“Not too far.”
Thank God.

“Where are you headed?”

“Here.”

The baker angled her head, clearly thinking. “Chicago…you’re Miranda’s friend, Norah.”

Norah was too tired and too amused at how things worked in small towns to be surprised. “Guilty.”

“I’m Carolanne Wheeler. Nice to meet you.”

Norah hummed an acknowledgment and sipped her drink. “You’re a lifesaver with this coffee.” She drank more and tried to get her sluggish brain in gear. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been down to visit. Not since Miranda finished residency and came home to open her practice, but I don’t remember you being here then.”

“I wasn’t. Only been open a couple of years.”

“Are you from Wishful?”

Carolanne shook her head. “Atlanta originally. I had something of a personal crisis epiphany a few years ago and decided I needed a radical change. So I up and quit my job and moved here to open this place. With a stopover for pastry school.”

Short of leaving the country, Norah couldn’t imagine a more radical change. “And was that what you needed?”

“Best decision I ever made.” She grinned. “It’s still a bit touch-and-go on the financial side, but that’s the nature of opening a business anywhere. I love Wishful.”

“I always have, too. I started coming here with Miranda when we were roommates back in college. It’s a really special town.”

“You know, Miranda was just in yesterday—she has a cupcake habit—and didn’t say anything about you coming.”

“She doesn’t know. It was a spur of the moment trip. I needed some girl time, so I thought I’d surprise her. Speaking of which, I figure I could soften the imposition with sugar.”

“I’ve got just the thing.” Carolanne rose and circled around to pull a tray from the display case. “These are a devil’s food cake with a peanut butter ganache and a peanut butter cup hidden in the center. I call them billionaires. Sweet and rich, with just a hint of salty. Perfectly sinful and exactly what a good man should be.”

Norah decided she officially loved Carolanne. “I’ll take one with a broody gaze and washboard abs.”

Carolanne’s laughter pealed and something in Norah loosened for the first time in days.

“Oh, you meant the cupcakes.”

“Try one.”

Norah bit in and groaned as pure decadence exploded in her mouth. “I’ll take half a dozen.”

As Carolanne rang up the sale, Norah finished her coffee and cupcake. “Thanks for the caffeine and chat. I think I’m awake enough to make it without passing out at the wheel again.

She handed over the box with a smile. “Welcome to Wishful, Norah. I hope you’ll stay a while.”

Fatigue still dragged at Norah as she stepped outside and back to her car. She drove past the large green that stretched the entire length of Main Street, scanning the shop windows from afar. The buildings themselves looked worn and aged. Comfortable with themselves. Much of the signage was faded, and definitely many of the awnings could use replacing. A few businesses had planters in front of their display windows. Empty this time of year. Everything would perk up, come spring. Local business owners would distract from the ancient brick and peeling paint with fresh plantings and clean, sparkling windows to display their wares. But for now, downtown looked frayed at the edges, as worn down and tired as Norah felt. But everything was still here. Not until the relief bled through her did she realize she’d expected Wishful to be as decimated as Morton.

The last few days had brought so much change. She needed something familiar. She needed Miranda, needed the rest of the crazy Campbell clan.

Norah didn’t know what she’d tell them. She wasn’t ready to admit she’d been fired. Burkes were raised not to make mistakes and ignorance didn’t mitigate the enormity of the one she’d made.

Would it be better not to have found out? To go on with her high powered-life none the wiser?

No.

She recalled the look of derision on Philip’s face, the disgust on Pierce’s. No matter what happened from here on out, she was better off without them, better off knowing what kind of men they really were.

The receptionist was on the phone when Norah stepped into Miranda’s clinic. The waiting room, like the parking lot outside, was almost empty. An older gentleman in a shearling coat sat reading a magazine. He looked up as she shut the door and gave her a wrinkled smile. Norah nodded and smiled back. He didn’t appear to be sick, or agitated by the wait, so she assumed he was waiting on a patient in the back. Good. Maybe that meant Miranda was nearly through for the day.

A door beside the reception desk opened and a nurse in turquoise scrubs walked out. “I’m so sorry. We’re just about to close, so this really isn’t a good time for you to meet with Doctor—” The nurse cut herself off, eyes widening in surprise. “Norah! Oh my gosh, I thought you were a drug rep.”

Norah grinned. “Hey Piper. Long time no see.”

“Well I’ll say. Damn, girl, how long’s it been? Six years?”

“Seven.” Norah shifted the cupcake box to give the other woman a one-armed hug. “Not since before you finished nursing school. You look fabulous.”

Piper waved a hand. “I look like I’ve been dealing with a mad rush of flu patients. Don’t worry. We’ve all been practically bathing in disinfectant. Miranda didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“She didn’t know. I had an…unexpected opportunity to get away come up, and I took it.”

“Well hallelujah for that. Miranda’s going to be beside herself. Hang on a sec.” Piper turned to the man in the corner and raised her voice to that register everyone used with the hard of hearing. “Mr. Tolleson, your wife is just about finished. We had to take some blood, so you be sure and take her to get something to eat straight after this. I hear it’s meatloaf day at Dinner Belles. I know how Winnie likes her meatloaf.”

Mr. Tolleson gave her a thumbs up.

Piper turned back to Norah and dropped her voice. “She has to come in for regular blood work. We help her make sure she gets a dinner date out of it.”

Norah grinned. “I expect you could use some sustenance after such a long day.” She lifted the cupcake box and opened the top.

“You are a saint. No, a goddess. Statues shall be erected in your honor.” Piper grabbed a cupcake and wasted no time in taking a bite. Her head lolled back and she moaned theatrically.

The receptionist, a fortyish woman with a spray of freckles and vivid green eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses, hung up the phone with a clatter. “I swear, if I have to talk to that woman
one more time
this week…” She let the threat trail off.

Norah offered the box. “Cupcake?”

The woman lifted her fingers in the sign of the cross. “Get thee away, Satan!”

Piper took another bite of cupcake. “Shelby’s on the Atkins diet.”

“And after the week we’ve had already, my will power is at an all-time low. But thanks for the offer, sweetie.”

“You should totally have waited to start until after New Year’s. Who starts a diet the day after Christmas?” The groan of pleasure as Piper finished off the cupcake punctuated the lunacy of such a thing.

“The woman who ate half a chocolate chess pie out of stress due to the presence of her in-laws, that’s who.” Shelby shuddered. “How my husband came from those two, I will
never know.
”

The door to the exam rooms opened and Miranda edged out, her arm around an older lady. “Now you be sure to run right on over to the pharmacy and pick this up. I called it in already, so Riley ought to have it ready by the time you get there. You start it tonight at bedtime. And let me know if you have any side effects.”

As the woman shuffled toward her waiting husband, Miranda shoved a hand through her thick blonde hair and turned, clearly checking for more patients. “Please tell me that’s the—” Her eyes widened. “Norah!”

“Surprise.” Norah grinned.

Miranda’s white coat flared like a cape as she leapt across the room and wrapped Norah in a fierce hug. Norah held tight, burying her face against her friend’s shoulder and breathing in the familiar scents of alcohol, starch, and new plastic. Something hot and tight lodged in her throat, and she had to fight to keep the smile in place. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“It’s
so
good to see you!”

“Sorry for just dropping in like this.” Norah pulled back. “I hope your guest room is available.”

“For you? Always. What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t get away again until summer.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to let it all spill out. The fate of Morton. The firing. All the ugliness that had made her pack up and run. But shame and embarrassment locked her throat.