The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(65)

But the thought was nice.

Randeep clapped Wyatt’s shoulder. “Good for you, Wyatt. I’m glad everyone’s okay.”

Wyatt nodded once and Randeep returned to the group.

“False alarm, everyone. There’s no one in distress,” he announced to the group in a loud, booming voice. “It was Hannah Nielsen and Wyatt Rhodes fooling around.”

A strangled noise of humiliation gurgled out of my throat. My face burned so hot I might melt. Wyatt returned to my side with a huge grin while I watched in horror.

“Hannah Nielsen?” Miri asked. “And Wyatt Rhodes?” Her eyes were bigger than I had ever seen them. She grabbed Randeep’s arms with force. She was a tiny woman of five foot two, but he reared back in fear at the savage fire in her eyes. “Tell me the truth. Are you kidding right now?”

“He told me himself.”

Her sharp, interested gaze whipped to us, where I peeked around the corner.

Wyatt’s hand slipped into mine and he tugged. “Let’s get out of here, bookworm, before we have to answer some awkward questions.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. We returned to the truck and Wyatt started the car. In the side mirror, I spotted Miri running towards us. Wyatt started the truck and exited the parking lot, rolling down the window to wave at her.

“I’m so happy for you two!” she called after us.

Wyatt took one look at my face and burst out laughing again, the lines around his eyes crinkling and his grin reaching ear to ear.

“I’m going to move to Newfoundland.” I covered my burning face with my hands. “Everyone knows now.”

He shrugged, still wearing that grin. “So what. Let them know.”

Know what? What were we?

I was living in the present, or trying to, and those were questions for the future. I blew a breath out, glanced at Wyatt, and burst out laughing.





19





Hannah





The next evening, I sat at the counter in a bar in Port Kennedy, a nearby town, waiting for Naya and watching my phone as the video of Wyatt chopping wood went viral. I had sent him a screenshot of the video, pointing out the views and comments, and he responded with nice work, bookworm and a winky emoji.

A shiver rolled down my spine at the memory of what Wyatt had done with me. How he had touched me and made me moan.

And then I remembered Miri and Randeep reenacting those moans and I cringed for the thousandth time that day.

“You must be Hannah.”

I glanced up from my phone. Naya greeted me with a huge smile and a warm hug.

“So good to meet you,” I said as she took her seat on the stool beside me.

Naya beamed at me and her brown eyes shone. “I’m excited to talk concepts with you. Thanks for sending over that Pinterest board.”

Earlier in the week, Liya and I had trawled for images of murals we loved, and they all had a common theme—vivid, striking, and colorful.

I nodded and swallowed as guilt caught me by the throat. I was sitting in a bar planning a mural to which my dad had said no. I was going to cover up the mural my mom had commissioned.

The mural needed an update, though. The books in the existing mural were from a different time, and they didn’t represent the world anymore. They didn’t represent Queen’s Cove, and they didn’t represent publishing.

There was no doubt I was erasing her by painting over it, though. My heart twisted.

Naya pulled out a tablet and tapped through screens. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation about your mom.”

My chest was tight. “Oh?”

She nodded and shot me a wistful smile. “Yeah.” She inhaled and sighed. “The way you talk about her, it’s clear she’s in every part of the store.”

I nodded and swallowed past the rock in my throat. Naya could see this was a mistake, too.

“And I want to honor that in the mural.”

My ears perked up. “You do?”

Her teeth flashed with her wide smile. “Absolutely. You have the same passion for books that she does.”

“I do. I love stories. She showed me how incredible they were.”

Her tablet screen glowed as she scrolled through images. “I was thinking about what she used to say, there’s a story for every soul.”

“There is. There’s a book out there for everyone. I love when people find the perfect book and come back and tell me about it.”

“So, this is what I came up with. If you don’t like it, that’s fine, we can change it. It’s just an initial concept.”

She set the tablet on the table and I leaned forward to study the sketch.

The magenta letters looped and dipped in a swirling, whimsical font. Tropical flowers framed the text, growing thick and wild with emerald leaves and vines. Birds perched among the foliage, a racoon peeked out from behind a flower, and a deer grazed along the bottom of the image.

A story for every soul, it said. Tears stung my eyes. It was my mom in art. My guilt vanished and resolve took its place. I wasn’t erasing her. The mural was her.

I nodded at Naya and rushed to wipe a tear as it spilled over.

“Is this good?” she asked, watching my expression carefully.

I nodded and another tear spilled over. “Sorry. Yes. Good.”