Jessica lowered her voice. “Go tell your landlord you want to buy the place. Do it now, while he feels bad for you.”
Paige got up and walked over to Harry, who now stood with the real estate agent in the doorway to her bedroom. Hopefully, she hadn’t left any embarrassing personal items in plain sight. The agent was saying, “It would be great if we could de-clutter here a little, too, but it’s not as crucial as in the main area.”
Paige decided to ignore him. “Harry, how much are you going to charge for this place?”
Harry’s eyebrows raised. “How much am I listing it for?” He exchanged a look with Trent. “We were going to discuss that next. Why? Did you know somebody who’s interested?”
“Yes,” she said. “Me.”
His face brightened. “Is that right?”
“We’ll see.” Although Paige tried to feel doubtful, a spark of hope shone inside her.
The following afternoon, Paige glanced up at the schoolroom clock. Her art project had gone more quickly than she’d expected. She’d already spread out the painted construction paper pumpkins on the long windowsill to dry, and the children had all washed their hands.
“We’ve got a few minutes until the bell. What song would you like to sing?”
“Greasy grimy gopher guts!” a boy yelled.
“Hmm, I don’t know that one,” Paige lied. It had been a favorite at her childhood summer camp, and even then, she’d found it disgusting. How did a kid today still know about it?
Clara’s hand went up. “Yes, Clara,” Paige said.
“Do you have more of your cabin story?”
The simple question made Paige’s stomach knot. Maybe reading more of the story would somehow jinx her chances at getting the cabin. “You know, I don’t think that story is ever going to be a real book.” The way things were going, none of her stories were going to be real books, but still. “I think it’s just for me.”
“Can it be for us, too?” Deion asked.
He was a shy boy and rarely spoke up. Paige couldn’t bear to say no to both Clara and him. “Okay.”
She dug her journal out of her purse, opened it to the last section, and read.
“‘One day, the princess looked out the window and saw a gigantic scary bull. He stomped down the hill and tromped right into her cabin.’”
“What’s a bull?” someone called out.
“It’s a cow who’s a boy,” Paige explained. “And he has horns.”
Another child piped up. “My dad says that when he’s mad. That’s bull!”
“When my dad’s mad—”
“Well, we don’t say that in this class,” Paige cut in loudly. Clara raised her hand. “Yes, Clara.”
“Did you draw the bull?”
“I did, actually.” She flipped to the next page and turned the journal around, holding it up so they could see.
A few of the children gasped. “He’s scary,” a boy said.
“He is,” she admitted, turning the book back around. Maybe she shouldn’t have given him red eyes. “But don’t worry. All my stories have happy endings, remember?” How she hoped that could be true in her real life.
A girl asked, “What did the princess do? Did she fight the bull?”
Good question. Maybe she should’ve written it that way. But no, she didn’t want to promote violence.
“She could fight him with a sword,” a boy said.
“Or a rock.”
“He’s too big to hurt with a rock.”
“If it was a big rock.”
Jaden waved his hand in the air. “Miss Reynolds!”
“Yes, Jaden?”
“Um. If you burn a log, where does the log go? Does it turn into air?”
A great question, and for once, Paige could actually understand how his thoughts had gotten there. It was a story about a log cabin, after all. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
Jaden gave her a sweet smile. “Will you get back to me on it?”
He couldn’t have been any cuter. “Yes. I will.—Okay, I’m going to read now. ‘His big tail swished and he knocked a lamp to the floor. That was my favorite lamp! the princess said. And the bull said, Ha, ha, ha! I don’t care!’”
“Uh-oh,” Clara breathed, and then the school bell rang.
chapter six
Dylan yawned as he pulled into the last parking spot at Dolce Café and Bakery, his nephews Connor and Noah in the back seat. The place was apparently even more popular on Saturdays. Since the time he’d run into Paige there, he’d been back four times.
He wasn’t looking for her, exactly. No. It turned out the café was a good place to caffeinate and catch up on emails before he went into the office.
Anyway, he should probably give up on the idea of seeing her again. It had been, what, two weeks ago now?
“Why are we going here first?” Connor asked.
“Because your uncle is in desperate need of coffee.”
That was true, anyway. He’d stayed till around one a.m. at the office the night before, updating a presentation, immediately scrapping the update after getting new information from Elaine, and then making a new set of changes.
When he’d gotten home, he’d taken a while to unwind, the way he sometimes did when he worked late. He’d watched a couple of episodes of a TV show before going to bed, which he regretted now. The show hadn’t even been that good. Depressing, too. He always teased Dee for watching Hallmark movies, but maybe she was on to something.
Despite the late night, Dylan had picked up his nephews at the appointed time, and he gave himself a lot of credit for that.
“You always need coffee,” Noah declared as they got out of the car.
“That’s right, buddy.”
They went inside and he quickly scanned the café. His gaze stopped briefly on a blonde woman at the counter, hunched over her phone. Not Paige. He felt a foolish jab of disappointment as he got in line.
Connor asked, “Can I get a cupcake?”
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you wanted cider donuts at the orchard.”
“I could get both.”
“Ha. Your mother would kill me.”
Connor straightened. “Miss Reynolds!” Dylan looked up, startled, as Connor trotted over toward someone. A blonde woman in a bright blue sweater…
Holy smokes. It was Paige. And Connor knew her? She met Dylan’s gaze and her mouth fell open.
Connor reached her side, and she beamed down at him. “Hi there! How are you?” Dylan got out of line and walked up to her with Noah.
Paige’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion. The sweater brought out the blue in her eyes, bright as an October sky.
“You’re not Connor’s dad.”
“Uh,