Second Chance at the Orchard Inn, page 8
No one understood quite how his mind worked like Aurora had.
For all his practicality and preparation, he also loved making big plans. Some plans had never gone further than talk, and some, like his herb gardens, had come to full fruition. But his favorite part was the birth of an idea.
“I don’t know, really. I have a few ideas?”
“A few ideas like the coffee and tea shop Jenna mentioned?”
“Something like that. Or something more food focused.”
“Like a restaurant?” Her gaze focused on him, her sharp eyes burning through his skull as though trying to read his deepest thoughts.
“My sisters and I have talked about it, but it’s just been talk.”
Aurora began walking the open room again. “You’d need more than just a small kitchen if you do full-service dining. That means additional renovations and then the deep rabbit hole of starting up a restaurant. It’s an unimaginable amount of work.”
Jude frowned. His family was in no position to present rabbit-hole restaurants to their father.
“Look at this view though,” Aurora cooed, making him smile. “You couldn’t ask for a better location for farm-to-table dining.”
His thoughts exactly.
“And with a potential porch?” She gestured. “The fields, the wide-open acres, stunning sunsets. That alone would give you all the ambience and authenticity you needed.”
She was on a roll now, so he let her go.
“Add, like, I don’t know, maybe some quaint, but rustic, casual décor. Simple. Natural. A completely local menu.”
“We wouldn’t need to leave Fredericksburg for vendors either,” he added. “Everything can be sourced from right here on our farm or nearby.”
“Exactly. Feature dishes from neighboring farms. Names that people around here know. Use your own herbs in the dishes.”
“It’d generate buzz for our farm products and the products of other farms.”
“Yes.” Her smile turned wide and bright. “You list the names of farms by each menu item, have their locations and information on the back. It comes full circle.”
Jude nodded, his mind whirling with potential as he fought not to match her smile.
“Wait.” Aurora tilted her head. “This is what Jenna wanted to talk to me about, isn’t it?”
He wasn’t sure what to make of her tone. “No. Jenna and I have talked about it, but it’s only talk. It’ll never happen. Not for a long time anyway.”
Her gaze locked with his. “Because of your dad.”
“How did you—?”
“Your sisters told me that your dad isn’t interested in anything new. Bonnie mentioned subscription boxes and Jenna talked about expanding the shop into new areas, but your dad is against it. I know how that goes.”
Aurora knew better than most. She’d had her own experiences with the formidable John Jones and his control issues.
Jude tried to explain, for some reason. “He just doesn’t like change or doing anything different than how it’s always been done.”
“Oh, believe me, I know, and—” She pinched her lips closed.
“And what?” he urged.
“Nothing. We don’t need to get into it right now.”
Get into the past. That’s what she meant.
They both fell quiet. The weight of their conversation went far beyond a farm-to-table restaurant. He knew it and, clearly, she did too.
How could feelings still be raw after so many years?
“Aurora, I know how my dad can be. How he’s always been. I know it better than anyone.”
She looked away, out the open barn doors, into the distance. “Yeah,” she managed, her voice shaky. “I should go home. For real now.”
“I’ll give you a lift,” he agreed.
The ride to the Orchard Inn dragged with heavy silence. Too many unsaid words hung in the air. He turned down the driveway for the inn and slowed his truck to a crawl. “Aurora, I don’t want the day to end like this.”
She didn’t say a word in response, or even look his way, but he had to get this out. They both knew what needed to be said, and he wasn’t a teenage boy anymore. He was a grown man, who’d learned this lesson the hard way.
Jude took a steadying breath before opening his mouth. “I know, better than anyone, how my dad can be. And I know the role he had in how things ended between us.”
She turned toward him, quiet, her expression unreadable.
“But I was the one who handled our breakup the wrong way. I was a stupid kid, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry my dad…was the way he was too.”
Aurora blinked, still silent as he parked the car.
This Aurora was not the outspoken woman from the farmers’ market or even from the barn a few minutes earlier.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Opened again, but nothing came out.
“Thanks for bringing me back,” she finally blurted, and fled the car like it was on fire.
Once she’d disappeared inside the inn, Jude rested his head on the steering wheel.
He wasn’t sure exactly how he’d expected Aurora to react, but not like that.
Chapter 9
Aurora’s phone chimed with an alarm, but she was already awake. She’d lain there, for the last hour and a half, refusing to move.
It was all Jude’s fault. He’d apologized. Just said it flat-out, he was sorry, and he was sorry for his dad’s role in pressuring him to break up with her.
And Aurora? Oh, she’d sat there, like a knot on a log, silent and dumbfounded. But that wasn’t her fault. She had not been prepared for his apology. Nothing in their history had led her to believe he’d step up and take ownership of his mistakes and acknowledge his father’s faults.
Teenage Jude had been prideful and stubborn to a fault, defending John Jones unflinchingly and ignoring his own personal flaws as though they were unthinkable. Actually, that described about ninety-nine percent of high school boys.
Adult Jude was the exact opposite. He listened and expressed himself. He didn’t just shut down, and that is why she’d dreamed of him.
It was his fault.
“Ugh,” she groaned, pulling the covers over her head, the dream still dancing through her mind.
She’d been back in high school, wandering down endless, empty halls, looking for Jude. She desperately needed to tell him something. She needed his support, his attention, and his reassurance.
It was all too real and too familiar.
She finally found him outside, near the baseball field, getting ready for practice. A pit opened in her stomach and her heart raced.
She was losing him. He didn’t care about her anymore. Why would he? He was Jude freaking Jones, star pitcher of the baseball team, everyone’s favorite golden boy, sure to be the future prom king and local hero, bound to bring home a regional title, if not state.
Who was she? Some quiet little girl who never made a stir and followed him around like a lost puppy. Half the school wouldn’t know she existed if it weren’t for Jude.
Maybe it was better when they didn’t know.
Then, in the dream, Jude turned his back on her, ignoring her calling after him as he walked away.
She’d sat up in bed with a start, her room still dark. Who was he to invade her dreams? They were her dreams. Maybe if she just stayed here, under the covers, she’d fall back to sleep and forget all about the dream and yesterday.
She’d spent half the day with Jude and his family; they’d talked about the farm and the plans they wanted to make a reality. Then Jude had tried to make amends for the past, and she’d run away from his truck like her hair was on fire.
Aurora threw off her covers.
There’d be no distraction from that dream or yesterday or Jude if she just lay here. She needed to get on with her day and hope something in the kitchen would push all of this from her mind.
After washing up and getting dressed, she was in the kitchen by seven, yet her sisters had beaten her there, as usual.
“You look rough.” Cece sipped her coffee while scrolling her phone.
“Thanks so much. The bedraggled look took me all night to put together.”
“Didn’t sleep well?”
“Nope.”
Beth joined them, coffee in one hand and her tablet in the other. “That’s weird. You usually sleep like a log. I’m the insomniac.”
“Something on your mind?” Cece stared her down over the top of her phone.
Aurora cut her eyes at her sister. “Stop.”
“What?” Beth jumped on the shift in conversation and poured herself some more coffee.
“Nothing,” they both answered.
“Well, now I know it’s something.”
“We went to see Jude yesterday.” Cece kept scrolling with a quirk of her lips.
“We went to see his family and the farm,” Aurora attempted to correct her.
“That’s right. How did it go?”
“How it went was Cece abandoned me at the farm in an attempt to force me to spend time with Jude.”
Cece set her phone down with a plunk. “I did not abandon you. Beth needed me here.”
“I did?” Beth asked.
“Ha, see!” Aurora pointed at Cece.
“I saw you two together at the market, and again yesterday,” Cece argued. “There’s stuff between you and Jude—and maybe it’s just some leftover angst, I don’t know—but something is there. You both needed a chance to really talk. Alone. I wanted to make sure you had that.”
Aurora shook her head and went to the cabinet for a coffee cup. “It’s not like we’re going to make up and hang out together.”
“You could,” Beth said.
Aurora threw up a hand. “I can’t with either of you right now. I’m barely awake and you want me to be BFFs with the boy who broke my heart? Don’t think so.” She focused on pouring her coffee, hoping that was the end of the conversation, but the heat of her sisters’ stare scorched the back of her head.
“Just hear me out.” Beth took a seat at the counter with Cece, urging Aurora to join them. “I know you two may not be best friends, but trust me when I say it’s better to make peace with what happened now than to ignore it and assume it won’t affect you for the rest of your life.”
Cece nodded in agreement.
“Look at Sawyer,” Beth continued. “He tried to bury how an old breakup affected him, and it almost ruined our relationship.”
“And his brother’s relationship, and his relationship with his brother,” Cece added.
Beth nodded. “Exactly.” Her eyes grew soft green, pleading. “If you haven’t already, at least consider talking to Jude about what you went through. It’s okay to open up and express how you felt. It will help. I promise.”
Open up. To Jude? That was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard, even if the idea did hold some merit—in theory.
Opening up to him meant seeing him again. That meant reaching out to him, as in she’d have to take that step. Make that move.
Alternatively, she could just ignore all of this and hope it went away. It’d worked for the last ten years. Kind of—but not really.
“I don’t know about opening up to my ex. That’s weird.” Then again, still having dreams about him wasn’t exactly the peak of emotional health.
Beth raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “So, instead, you want to move back to California, never having spoken up, with nothing resolved? The Aurora you’ve shown me for the last two months speaks up.”
“A lot,” Cece agreed.
They had her there. She’d grown into someone unafraid to express her opinions and stand up for herself, especially at work. In big kitchens you had to speak up or you’d get run over. This was Jude though, and dealing with those feelings wasn’t like dealing with a busy kitchen.
Cece got up and rounded the counter to give Aurora a one-armed side hug. “I’m sorry if I abandoned you. I was only trying to help.”
“I know.”
“It had to be weird for both of you. Blast from the past and all that.”
“Honestly? Yeah, it was super weird.” Aurora relaxed into her sister’s hug. “But then it wasn’t, and then it was again, even more so. It’s hard to explain.”
Cece squeezed her in support.
Maybe Beth was right. Maybe, if she really talked to Jude, they could put the past to rest. She could leave Fredericksburg with a clear mind and focus solely on her future.
“Fine. I’ll talk to Jude,” Aurora announced. “If for no other reason than to shut you both up.”
Cece shoved her away from the hug good-naturedly.
Beth hopped off her chair. “Good. I’m proud of you, sis.”
“Oh yeah.” Cece bit her bottom lip, her expression suddenly sheepish. “I got a call from Mom yesterday.”
Aurora held back a groan.
“She’s back from her cruise and she wants to see us.”
Their mom was retired and into traveling and looking out for herself full-time.
“When?” Aurora managed.
“I don’t know, exactly. She just said she wanted to have us over sometime.”
That could easily never come to fruition. Their mother was notorious for no follow-through.
“Well.” Beth tapped her nails against her tablet. “I guess keep us posted and we’ll go see her when she’s ready. I have one nibble on our chef posting too. Aurora, I forwarded their résumé to you.”
“Sounds good.” Aurora hoped she sounded enthusiastic and fully supportive.
While she wanted her sisters to find a permanent chef, the idea of the wrong person working at their inn, with her sisters…She pinched her lips between her teeth. Aurora couldn’t entrust her family to any old cook. They had to be just right.
“Oh, you guys will never guess who booked a small ceremony for a couple of months out.” Beth quickly changed the subject from their mother.
At this point, Aurora wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. “No clue. Spit it out.”
“Erica Burr.”
Her stomach turned as Cece audibly gasped.
“What?” Beth’s eyes widened. “Why are you looking at me like I cussed in front of the preacher?”
“Erica Burr.” Cece held her eyes open even wider than Beth’s. “You don’t remember her?”
“Barely. She was younger than me, in Aurora’s class. We never spoke.”
“Precisely. She was in Aurora’s grade and she spoke about Aurora. A lot.”
Realization slowly dawned across Beth’s face. “She’s not the one who—”
“Oh, she’s the one,” Cece retorted. “She told everyone in school, Aurora’s senior year, that Jude was only with her because she put out, and then that he broke up with her because he’d gotten what he wanted.”
“And who was I to walk around like I was so goody-goody, when really, I was—apparently—easy,” Aurora added.
“But that’s not why you two broke up.” Beth shook her head. “And I know Jude never went around saying that.”
“Correct. But I couldn’t stop the rumors, and Jude was too wrapped up in his own life to get in the middle of high school girl drama. Erica made all of it up, but people still believed her.”
“I didn’t believe her,” Cece said.
“Me and Cece.” Aurora quirked her lips. “And Jude. An astounding point zero zero one percent of the school didn’t believe her.”
Beth’s gaze softened even more. “I didn’t know that was Erica. I am so sorry.”
“You’d graduated. You were long gone. I don’t expect you to remember.” Aurora attempted to console her.
“I’m going to call her and cancel,” Beth said.
“No, you are not!” Aurora put down her mug and closed in on Beth. “That was all years ago. Erica probably doesn’t even remember it. Most people probably don’t. I do because that was a really difficult time for me. But you are not going to turn away business over old high school drama. Erica’s family knows everyone, word would get out. No way. You’re a smarter businesswoman than that.”
“Yes, but you’re my sister.”
Aurora met her sister’s gaze with steely resolve. “I’m more than capable of facing Erica Burr. Like you said, I’m not that quiet girl anymore. I can take care of myself.” She would have to leave her sisters and the Orchard Inn soon, with a new chef and without her support. She wasn’t about to cost them a valuable client as well.
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve heard Erica has changed.” Cece refilled her coffee. “Word is she’s toned down a lot. Maybe too much, because I’ve also heard her fiancé is a jerk.”
“Cece.”
“I’m just telling you what I’ve heard.” Cece threw one hand up like she was on the witness stand, then added in a lower voice, “But from what I’ve experienced, I agree.”
“You know him?”
“No, but I saw them out and about in town a couple of weeks ago. I was trying to speak to her, you know, polite small talk, and he was completely overbearing and talking over her. The Erica of high school would’ve taken him down. No one talked over Erica Burr back in the day. But she let him do whatever.”
Aurora wasn’t convinced. One instance didn’t mean she’d changed. Maybe she’d lost her voice that day or maybe she didn’t want to talk to Cece.
“Well, whether she’s changed or not. You’re going to plan her wedding, and all will be fine. Now, I must start breakfast, so y’all get out of my kitchen.” Aurora hit them with a wide smile.
Her sisters collected their coffees and devices and meandered out of her workspace, and Aurora began pulling out the prep work for breakfast. If she started working with food, maybe she could stop thinking about everything else.
She’d put a couple of quiches together the night before. Now all she had to do was bake them, cut up some fresh fruit, and put together a vegan option for a couple who’d requested it the night before.
Avocado toast was always a safe bet.
“Eh.” She contemplated aloud. “Overdone.” Especially in California. What if she did some sort of potato hash with avo on top? “Mmmm.” She nodded to herself. “Savory flavor, add tomato, a little onion.”
