Only for You Read online

  “You’re just jaded right now.”

  “I’ve come to my senses.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t buy it. Obviously you’ve just never met the right person.”

  “You can say that again. And I’m not planning to, either. I am so done with relationships.”

  A declaration she’d heard about thirty-seven times in the past four months. “Right. Because they’re not a part of your rules.” If she had a dollar for every time he brought up his damn rules.

  “Exactly.” Oblivious to her disinterest, he held up a finger. “Casual dating only…”

  She tuned him out as he ticked off rule numbers two and three. No opening up, no getting close. Blah, blah, blah. She could list them in her sleep.

  “And most important of all,” he was saying, “no developing feelings.”

  Emily waited a few seconds to make sure he hadn’t added anything else. It was a growing list, after all. “Rules are overrated.”

  Tim shook his head and grinned. “Not my rules.”

  When he didn’t say anything more, she leaned back in her chair and stretched. “So any resolutions for you?”

  “Nah, you know me. I don’t like to make those kinds of commitments.” His eyes fell on a stack of broken-down boxes, propped up against the door of the coat closet. “When is the move into the new apartment?”

  The guy at the end of the hall was finally moving out. For years, Emily had been on a waiting list for one of those apartments. They spanned the whole width of the building, getting the morning sun from the harbor and the afternoon light coming across town square. She picked at a thread on her jean shorts. “He should be out by the end of the month. I’m going to get a head start packing things I never use. New Year’s resolution, and all that.” She winked.

  “If you need help moving some of your heavy stuff, I’ll give you a hand. Just say the word.” His phone chimed, but he ignored it. “And I’ll have plenty of boxes at the shop, if you need more.”

  “Sure, that would be great. I don’t have much stuff, but I’ll keep you posted.”

  He flashed his teeth, and they practically sparkled like a 1950s toothpaste commercial. He held her gaze a second, then cleared his throat. “What do you think Fuzzy has in store for us at next week’s council meeting?”

  “Holiday recap and spring event planning, probably, which I hope he spares me on. I’m exhausted from the Christmas events, and I could use the break to prep for wedding season. I’ve already gotten ten cake orders, including Leyna and Jay’s.”

  Because her life wasn’t complicated enough already, she and Tim were none other than maid of honor and best man at their friends’ upcoming wedding in May.

  His phone chimed again and he pulled it out of his pocket. “My mom. She wants me to come over and put an Ikea cabinet together.” He got up and gathered their dishes. “Cute shirt, by the way.” He pointed to a young Justin Timberlake before carrying the dishes to the sink. “I tried frosted tips back in the day.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” Shit. Did she just say that out loud? Why not admit she remembered the exact brand of jeans he wore back then too. Gap.

  Her phone rang, thank God. “I, um…It’s Nana,” she stammered.

  He put his ball cap back on and backed toward the door. “I’ve gotta get going anyway. Thanks for the soup. And for distracting me.”

  With her thumb hovering over the Answer button, she stuck her head out the door as Tim retreated down the dim carpeted hallway. “Don’t watch the show.”

  He spun back around. “I won’t, Shorty. Bye bye bye.”

  As the door clicked shut, Emily answered the call, mustering her most bubbly voice. Her grandmother hadn’t been herself through the holidays. She’d been quiet and mopey—a rough contrast to her usual energetic self.

  “Happy New Year, Nana.”

  “Happy New Year, Emmy. How was the party last night?”

  Pinching her lip, she turned her head toward the window, where soft flurries collected on the fire escape. “All right.” But I left at eleven thirty so I didn’t have to bear the humiliation of having no one to kiss at midnight. Again.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about my birthday party. We should book soon.”

  “Nana, your birthday is five months away.” Not that she was judging. Emily had planned her last birthday party six months in advance.

  “Damn straight. It’s not every day a gal turns eighty-three.”

  That’s right, eighty-three. Not a particularly celebratory number like eighty, or eighty-five. Reserving a few tables for her grandmother’s birthday wouldn’t be a problem, though. Not when her best friend Leyna owned the most popular restaurant in town. “What did you have in mind?”

  From the rattling in the background, Emily knew Nana was digging into her trusty bag of pink peppermints. She’d been hooked on them for years.

  “I want a classy little soirée on a boat, beginning at sunset and lasting until after dark, with warm little lights strung everywhere. I’m thinking smoked salmon for an appetizer and sparkling wine. Mini cheesecakes for dessert. I’m sure it’ll be no problem for you to pull together something great with Leyna for the food and Tim for the boat tour.”

  The woman had it all figured out. Emily put her phone on speaker and padded into the living room to relax on the couch. She picked up the remote to scroll through the guide. “Why a boat, though? The new rooftop patio at town hall is pretty swanky, if you want a change of scenery from Rosalia’s.” And it didn’t involve coordinating with the guy she’d just sworn off.

  “Uh-uh. At my age, who knows how many parties I have left. I want a nice little boat cruise, like when your grandfather and I got married. That was the most romantic night of my life, you know.”

  Well, shit. How could any other option compete with that? “Okay, leave it all to me. Just don’t forget I have to help organize Leyna and Jay’s wedding, too, which is the week after your birthday.” Priorities and all that.

  Nana continued to chat, changing the topic to the new book she’d started. Half listening, Emily selected the channel airing Behind Closed Doors and lowered the volume. She may have told Tim not to watch tonight’s episode, but she damn well would.

  She picked her nail file off the coffee table and ran it along her thumbnail. The live feed already ran across the bottom of the screen with commentary. The show reminded Emily of a real-life soap opera, with cattier fights and real booze flowing freely. Viewers seemed to embrace Melissa and Dak, and to be glad she’d decided to break up with her boyfriend.

  When a glammed-up Melissa drove by the WELCOME TO SAPPHIRE SPRINGS sign, the lake beyond glistening in the September sun, Emily tossed the nail file and tapped her phone off of speaker. She interrupted midway through her grandmother’s latest book club gossip. “I have to let you go, Nana. Sorry. I’ll keep you posted about the party planning.”

  Her hand trembled as she ended the call. Why was she so nervous? She already knew, more or less, how the episode played out.

  Emily’s breath hitched when the camera panned the boats bobbing along the dock and then moved along to the group of bold-colored clapboard buildings nicknamed Crayola Row before framing in on Tim’s shop. She and Leyna had been in the kitchen at Tesoro the day the footage was shot, and they’d spied through the window as it all went down. It was innocent enough at the time, but this…This felt almost voyeuristic, somehow.

  Had Melissa really needed to break up with him at work, so the whole world could google him and the town where he lived?

  There on her TV screen, Tim stepped out of the shop and closed the door behind him. He looked amazing—still tanned from the summer, wearing faded jeans and a dark green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He flashed a big, genuine smile before hesitating at the sight of the cameras. Then he hugged Melissa, his greeting muffled by the microphone on her denim jacket.

  As always, Melissa looked gorgeous, her caramel-colored hair falling in long waves. Just seeing her ag
ain made Emily feel out of Tim’s league.

  The comments on the bottom caught Emily’s eye. Abort mission, this guy is hot!!!

  Emily’s jaw turned to stone.

  Tim clasped hands with Melissa and glanced over her shoulder at the camera and then back at her. “This is a nice surprise. I’m so glad you’re here. How are you?”

  She mumbled something about how she’d been better.

  “Can you come inside, away from these guys?”

  When it cut to Melissa, she was shaking her head. “I can’t. What I came to say won’t take long, anyway.”

  He let go of her hands.

  Melissa made a show of wiping a tear and breaking eye contact with him before launching into a confession about falling for this guy, Dak.

  The camera zeroed in on Tim’s face, his eyes filled with comprehension and betrayal. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, struggling to hold back his emotions in front of the cameras.

  Emily gripped the TV remote so hard she had to relax her hand when it cramped. The live feed rushed across the bottom of the screen so fast it was almost impossible to make out the comments.

  Tim’s brows were drawn in, like he was trying to make sense of her words. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Did you sleep with him?”

  Chin quivering, Melissa confirmed it with a nod before rushing to explain. “You and I have barely been able to talk to each other since the show started filming, and we haven’t seen each other in months. And Dak…He’s just like been there.”

  Tim’s lip trembled slightly. He glanced out at the lake and then back at her, his eyes tortured and his jaw rigid. “So this is how you launch your acting career?” He tipped his head back in a laugh that sounded forced—a sure effort to save face rather than break down in front of the camera. “This is so”—here the producers inserted a bleep—“clichéd.”

  The camera zoomed closer. “Get away from me,” he muttered, and then his hand masked the lens. The footage shook for a few seconds and then stabilized in time to show Tim storming into the shop and slamming the door hard enough that the OPEN sign crashed to the ground.

  The image faded and a sappy song kicked in, cutting to Melissa, in the back seat of the car, crying in some sort of “confessional” interview. But it was the bottom of the screen that grabbed Emily’s attention. Fans were suddenly turning on Melissa and Dak.

  How could she hurt her boyfriend like that?

  He’s gorgeous.

  #Tim4Season2

  Within seconds, the hashtag appeared across the screen easily a dozen more times.

  Her phone rang and Emily jolted halfway off the couch. Tim.

  “Hello?”

  “Em, what the hell is happening?” Tim’s voice was frantic. “My Instagram is blowing up.”

  She could hear his phone buzzing continuously with notifications. “The episode just ended. Viewers seem to be smitten with you—they’re going ballistic.”

  “Why?” He sounded horrified.

  Um, because you’re sexy as hell? “They think it’s awful, what she did to you.”

  “I thought everyone wanted her to hook up with Dak. Christ, I feel ridiculous even saying this shit out loud.”

  She heard a door slam in the background. “They did, but now…They seem to be siding with you. There’s even a hashtag. Tim for season two.”

  “Jesus,” he muttered. “Just what I freaking need.” He cursed again and said he had to go. He was still trying to assemble the cabinet for his mother.

  When the call ended Emily went straight to Twitter and searched the hashtag.

  Tim was going to lose his shit.

  He was trending.

  Chapter Two

  At about three o’clock in the morning, Tim had a thought. Maybe he could undergo hypnosis or something to erase anything involving Behind Closed Doors from his mind.

  Was that a thing?

  The clock next to his bed had read 4:57 a.m. the last time he remembered looking at it, and he had hit the snooze button several times when the alarm went off at six. He dragged his feet to the shower an hour later than usual and just stood there under the hot spray, willing it to revive him out of his stupor.

  Assembling his mother’s cabinet would’ve been frustrating enough on a regular evening, but the distraction of his name being blasted all over social media had him screwing up every other step of the instructions. It was almost midnight when he’d driven home. By the time he wound down and got ready for bed, his phone battery had been bled dry from the constant flow of notifications popping up. He’d left it in the kitchen all night to charge so he wouldn’t be subject to the nonstop vibrating.

  He was exhausted, but adrenaline roared through his veins over how pissed he was that all these strangers in the world had gotten an up close and personal glimpse into his life. And that they’d witnessed him getting his heart ripped out.

  A little part of him that day in September had actually hoped that the reason for her impromptu visit had been because she couldn’t stand being apart anymore and was leaving the show. Stupid. The only saving grace had been that nobody knew he’d had an engagement ring in his desk drawer, waiting for the next time they got to be alone together, when the show was over and the cameras no longer followed her around.

  He turned off the shower and stuck his arm outside the curtain to pull a fluffy white towel off the shelf.

  He’d never been a relationship kind of guy before Mel. Growing up, he’d watched his mother struggle like a single parent, while his father climbed the ranks in the Navy. They had a solid marriage, but she’d spent a huge portion of it alone—counting down the days until the next visit. She’d insisted it was what she’d signed on for, though, and never once complained.

  Tim had always tried to make up for his father’s absences by helping out around the house as much as he could. Then he’d done what was expected: followed in his dad’s footsteps and joined the Navy himself. Because he’d learned firsthand that the Navy life really didn’t bode well for relationships, he’d never really considered settling down. Instead, he’d fallen in love with traveling and exploring the world. Then when he made the decision to resign and open the boat shop, he was driven and motivated to succeed—and his only commitment was to his shop. And after the rigorous years in the Navy, he adopted a kind of wild and free lifestyle, and relationships remained on the back burner.

  Mel had been a detour from his typical run of casual flings—a case of temporary insanity, really. She’d come to town for four months to star in a production at the local theater, and Tim had fallen flat on his face in love with her. He’d been out of the Navy a couple of years at that point, and a tiny voice had begun to question his beliefs about relationships and urged him to consider committing to someone. Build something meaningful for a change.

  Three years they’d been together—the longest he’d ever been with anyone, and she was the only woman he’d ever told he loved. Sure, they’d had their issues, and she could be a little dramatic at times, but that hadn’t stopped him from wanting a future with her. Looking back now, he realized she’d always been slightly less invested in the relationship than he was. Her acting goals meant she had no intention of ever moving to Sapphire Springs, so they’d done the long-distance thing for most of their relationship. Occasionally he’d wonder how they’d ever actually make that work, but he’d been optimistic—certain that their love would be enough and the rest would somehow work itself out. So he’d finally taken a leap and gone all-in, risked his heart, and look where it had gotten him.

  Tim dressed quickly and chugged a glass of orange juice, side-eyeing his phone on the counter. He chose to ignore the incoming messages in favor of brushing his teeth and getting his ass out the door.

  Behind Closed Doors had begun filming in late July. Because they were in a relationship when production began, Tim had agreed to sign a contract not to disclose anything he witnessed before episodes aired. It hadn’t sat well with him even
at the time, but Mel saw the show as an opportunity to finally break into acting after years of auditions in New York, and she’d wanted it so badly, he’d have signed anything for her.

  Within a few weeks of the start of shooting she’d been name-dropping that guy Dak every time they spoke. How many times had she texted and called after she came to break up with him, apologizing for the cameras. I had no say. It was about ratings. It might’ve been true, which was probably what hurt the most—the fact that she hadn’t had the decency to do it in private. That the ratings mattered more than his pride.

  Since the breakup, he’d sworn off dating. Not that he owed Melissa or her dumb show anything, but he was in no position to handle a lawsuit if he was in breach of the contract, and he really had no interest anyway.

  He pummeled down the stairs and onto Waterloo Row, pulling his collar up against the wind whipping around the corner from the harbor front.

  Common sense told him to focus on his career right now. It was going strong and had never let him down.

  Cue his recent tendency to work around the clock.

  Last August, he’d transformed Tim’s Boat Shop, his full-service marine shop, into Great Wide Open, a year-round outdoor adventure store, specializing in camping gear, clothing, and sporting equipment. And a nod to the great Tom Petty, for those who caught on.

  In the same vein as his chartered boat tours in the summer, Tim offered guided hikes and snowshoeing excursions in the off-season. One little building on Crayola Row turned into three, and if things went his way, he’d own all five in the strip by next year.

  Who needed a social life?

  His best friends Jay and Rob were busy with their own lives anyway, albeit in very different ways. Jay was running Wynter Estate, his family’s winery, and planning his and Leyna’s wedding, while Leyna’s brother Rob’s career and marriage were unraveling.

  At least he’d had Emily. She’d become a true friend to him these last few months, and she was right, he needed to pretend that damn show didn’t exist. He’d been doing just fine until yesterday, when Mel’s tear-streaked face flashed across his television screen. She’d been soaking in a steamy hot tub at the posh house where she’d lived with seven other people, having an argument with that guy, Dak. Every other word was bleeped out, until Dak said, Whatever this is between us is over if you don’t break it off with Tim.