Waterfront Weddings by Annalisa Daughety

Author:Annalisa Daughety [Daughety, Annalisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62416-443-9
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Alanna leaned against the door. What had she been thinking? Hello, Jonathan? It was bad enough they’d live next door to each other. She’d prayed he’d moved, but the moment she bumped into him yesterday, she knew he still lived in the small cabin. So she’d been a coward and spent the night in an anonymous bed-and-breakfast. Finding an open room had surprised her—even this early in the season— but it gave her the retreat she’d needed as she formed a plan.

From the moment Mom called with her plea, Alanna’s prayers had included the request for Jonathan Covington to be far removed from Mackinac. That he would be anywhere but here. Why couldn’t God have answered that prayer? It would have simplified her emotionally complicated return. Enough strands existed on the island to capture her in the spiderweb of the past. She didn’t need her heart involved, too.

Not after she’d worked so hard to pretend she never cared for Jonathan. That their relationship had never proceeded past a weak adolescent shadow of love. But as she hid in the B and B, she had to admit she’d fooled herself. It wasn’t the pressure of law school and starting a career that kept her from relationships. She couldn’t even blame the uninteresting men she ran into. Maybe they’d been uninteresting because they weren’t Jonathan.

In the early light of morning, she decided to attack the mess of emotions head-on. After finding a taxi, she headed to the cottage. Home. It hadn’t been that for years. Alanna stood on the porch, bag next to her, key in hand. One jab and twist and she’d fall inside. She hesitated, listening for the sound of heavy footsteps across the lawn. A bird jabbered angrily somewhere near her, but she didn’t hear the sound she anticipated and feared.

Alanna took a steadying breath and twisted the key, opened the door, and pulled her bag into the small sitting area. Dropping the suitcase’s handle, she marched to the kitchen and stood at the window. A dock angled from the backyard into the small pond the house shared with Jonathan’s cabin. Heat curled through her at the thought of the nights she and Jonathan had sat at the end, toes dangling inches above the water, shoulders touching.

Before she got lost in more what-ifs and unfulfilled hopes, she spun on her heel and headed to her small bedroom. As soon as she stepped inside, she groaned. Nothing was as she remembered from high school. Every scrap of pink had transformed into the perfect guest bedroom rather than a teenage girl’s dream escape.

If she hurried, she could shower, change, and hike to town before the studio opened. Tonight she could wallow in the past. Now she had to survive the present.

By noon she couldn’t wait to leave the art studio and join the tourists staring in the fudge shop windows. The four walls had closed in as she answered questions about the island, none leading to sales. People wanted free tourist advice.

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