The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(101)

“Nope.” I closed the window and kept searching.

One bedroom, partially furnished, no patio but lots of windows, only one block from the Main Street, including groceries, my work, and the art gallery—

Wyatt’s face flashed into my head, listening to me ramble on about how badass Emily Carr’s self-portrait was with an amused, affectionate look.

Nope.

One bedroom, unfurnished, pets allowed, with a small backyard with space for a garden. One block from the bar.

Hell no.

My gaze flicked to the figurine of merman-Wyatt, the one I had made before the camping trip. The same one that hung from his rearview mirror.

I stood, picked the figurine up, and dropped it in a desk drawer before sliding it closed.

Everywhere in town reminded me of Wyatt. My bookstore reminded me of him. The bar reminded me of him. The beach reminded me of him. Even my own goddamned bedroom reminded me of him.

I couldn’t go, but I couldn’t stay. How could I forget him when he was around every corner?

The gold dress sparkled in my closet.

I don’t even know who you are anymore, Miri had said at the bar the night I sang karaoke.

I had bleached the old Hannah from my life and now there was nothing left to show. My birthday was tomorrow, and I had made the store profitable again. I had become the hot girl I always wanted to be. I had fallen for Wyatt. The list was complete, but instead of fixing my life, I had fucked everything up so much worse.

A book sat on my desk, a mafia romance I had bought last year and hadn’t got around to reading. For now, I didn’t want to be Hannah or whatever was left of me. I wanted to be someone else, so I laid down on my bed, cracked the book open, and disappeared.





“Does the salmon taste okay?”

I looked up from my book and nodded at my dad across the table. “Yep. It’s great.” I forked another bite into my mouth and returned to my book.

I had read the same page about eight times. I shifted in my chair and shot a glance around the tiny kitchen. The room felt too small. The walls closed in on me. If I lifted my hand, the ceiling would be right above my head. We were going to run out of air soon.

I couldn’t keep going like this. I couldn’t slip back into my old life, working in the bookstore for my father, under his thumb, by his rules. I couldn’t go back to being shy, quiet Hannah who stared out the window, watched the world go by, and wished she could be a part of it. Now that I had a taste of the gold sequinned dress, I couldn’t go back to hiding it under the bed. Or tucking it under the bed and hiding from it.

“Wyatt Rhodes was in the store the other day.”

My heart lifted along with my head. “He was?” My fork clattered to my plate. He had come looking for me.

I didn’t know what the solution would be. I didn’t want Wyatt to stay, that would mean giving up on his dream. That didn’t sit right with me.

But maybe he had thought of something. Maybe there was a chance.

My dad nodded. “He came in with you.”

Right. Before everything went to complete crap.

“Oh.” I sunk and turned back to my book. “Yeah.”

“Are you friends?” His tone was light, and I knew he was curious but holding back from making me uncomfortable.

“Something like that.”

“Something more?”

My chest pinched and my mouth drew down into a frown. I shrugged at my book. “I don’t know. We used to be. Not anymore.”

He made an acknowledging hmm noise and nodded at his plate. I read the page for the ninth time.

He put his cutlery down. “I want you to be happy.”

A scoff scraped out of my throat and my eyebrows rose. A prickle of bottled-up rage squeaked through. When he shot me a curious glance, I shook my head. “As long as it’s on your terms, right?”

“Hmm. The store.” He blinked at his empty plate.

“Yeah. The store. I’m not changing it and I’m not leaving.” I folded my arms over my chest and set my chin. “I love it, and we’re keeping it the way it is. You lied to me.”

He crossed his arms, mirroring me.

“You didn’t just lie about you and Veena. You told me we couldn’t change a single thing about the store because of Mom. You made it seem like I was spitting on her grave by putting up wallpaper. You made that store a tomb for her, and the entire time, you were moving on just fine.”

I spat the last words out with fury. My chest was tight and my stomach was in knots. My hands shook with anger. I let out another humorless laugh. “I have been so stupid. God.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Why do I have to make up for your guilt? Why can’t I move on from Mom too?”

His mouth fell open before he sighed. “I went there today.”

I reared back. “You did? When?”

“When you were having a nap.” He nodded to himself. “Walked over and took another look. What you did with the store, well, Liya told me everything. She told me how the business was struggling, and she told me you weren’t paying yourself.”

My eyebrows pinched. “She knew that?”

“She told me you built an online presence from nothing, with no help from anyone. She showed me the pictures you took inside the store.” His throat worked. “And of the mural.” He exhaled a long breath and pressed his mouth into a line. “It’s hard to believe the mural is gone.”