Still the One (Deep Haven Collection #1) - Susan May Warren Page 0,1

a real statement.”

The kind of statement he might have liked, if his life hadn’t derailed. Yet another thing he could thank his ex-wife for.

She climbed back inside her car and started it up, waited for a break in traffic. He put his shoulder against the front bumper and pushed. It didn’t take much to regain traction. He nearly fell as her car rolled back onto the pavement. She put her window down. “Thanks!”

“No problem!” He found his feet, waved, and jogged back to the van, his jeans wet and chunks of ice clinging to his boots. Perfect. Now he’d be late, hungry, and cold.

Her lights had nearly disappeared before he got back on the road, heading toward the inevitable.

The radio offered little comfort when the only clear station came through with Tim McGraw’s “Live Like You Were Dying.” All that did was take him back in time, to summers on the North Shore.

He wished he could still love Deep Haven. Walking along the pebbled shore. Racing to World’s Best Donuts after school. Fireworks over the harbor.

I love summer. He could hear his best friend, Megan Carter, see her long hair pulled back into some sort of fancy braid. Her toes barely holding on to her bright pink flip-flops. The contagious enthusiasm almost made him believe the impossible. She’d flopped down on the dock next to him, smelling like sunshine and summer, giving him a red licorice rope and a smile. Do you have to go home?

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Yeah, even his good memories of Deep Haven could choke him with sadness, which was exactly why he liked to keep moving forward. Make a plan. Get things done. Find a new challenge.

Because, for the first time in his adult life, he had an open plate with nothing on it. No responsibilities. Nowhere to be.

No one to belong to.

Freedom. At least that’s how he planned on looking at it. He felt sure Rebecca saw it that way.

Today was the beginning of a fresh start, one that didn’t include the Army telling him where to be and what to do. Or him disappointing a wife he barely knew.

Time to take control of his life. Starting with the sale of Grandpa’s house. The man had never lived with much. Well, except whiskey. Most items could be hauled out for donation. Cole doubted he’d find anything of value in the old Victorian on Third Avenue West.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Java Cup and got out. Across the street, the harbor glistened, calm and frozen, the sky overcast and hinting at another storm. A gust caught his collar and he pulled it up as he hustled into the coffee shop. The bold aroma of fresh brew, the sound of coffee grinders, and the low conversation of a few locals brought him back to the small-town aura. During the summertime, the place tripled in size. At the height of winter, only a few hardy locals braved the weather to venture out for coffee.

All his hopes for a meal faded when he was met with a tray of stale donuts. Tomorrow he’d swing by earlier.

“Cole Barrett?” A man waved from a nearby table, standing to extend a hand. Silver peppered his brown hair, and he wore a gray fleece jacket, the name Decker Real Estate embroidered on the breast.

“Yes, sir.” Cole shook his hand.

“Nathan Decker. You’re the only guy who’s walked through the door in the past hour that I didn’t recognize. I was starting to wonder if you’d make it.”

Oh, yes. Small-town life.

“Sorry. I hope you got my message. There was a problem in Duluth with my rental car and, anyway, my apologies. It isn’t like me to miss an appointment.”

“I’m in a bit of a rush now to meet my wife, but I did put together all the paperwork. Have a seat.” He held out a folder and slid back into the chair across from Cole. “Go over it and sign where I marked. My business card is inside.”

Cole opened the folder. “Thanks. How long do you think it’ll take to sell?”

Nathan paused, as if measuring his words, and Cole’s chest tightened. He looked up. What had his grandfather done now?

“There’s a tenant in the garage apartment and she’s claiming she signed a six-month lease. She’s refusing to leave.”

“What?” Nathan would have had less impact with a right hook.

“I didn’t realize it until yesterday.”

Cole closed the folder, spread his hand on top. Took a breath. “I’m not planning