The Inn at Laurel Creek Read Online Free

nodded. "Very perceptive for a musician." And then I leaned my head back on the chair, working hard to relax.
    "You feel like talking about it?"
    There was a sweetness to his tone that made me want to blurt out all of my thoughts and feelings—from my frustration and touch of relief about Matthew to my thoughts on South African coffee farms using child labor. He was just the kind of person I felt I could share my soul with, without feeling afraid or submissive. "Are you looking for material for your music? A good break-up love song maybe? Or do you write more of the head-banger kind of stuff?" I giggled at my own joke, when really I was just covering up my sensitivities about the end of my relationship with Matthew.
    His mouth lifted into a half-moon-shaped grin. "Head-banger? I didn't know people still used that expression."
    I admired his lips and how they curved upwards, taking my breath away. I didn't even realize he was still talking.
    "Carly?"
    "Uh, yes, sorry." I shook my head to refocus. "I got lost in my thoughts for a second. What did you say?"
    "I said no, I'm not looking for material so your story's safe with me." He crossed his heart with this hand. "Promise."
    "Okay then, yes, there was a break-up a few months ago."
    "And you've just found the time to deal with it now?"
    I fiddled with my hands to avoid eye contact. "He's getting married tomorrow to the girl he started dating right after we broke up."
    He stopped rocking. "Ouch."
    "Who gets married after only three months?"
    "Apparently, your ex."
    I flinched. "Talk about ouch."
    "I'm sorry. I was just kidding around."
    "I know, no worries."
    "You know you're better off without him, right?"
    I nodded. "I do." I turned in his direction. "You know what's funny? I don't even want to be with him. I honestly don't. I just don't get how someone can fall in love and decide to get married—let alone plan the damn wedding—in three months." I shook my head, my teeth starting to clench. "Unless you can just throw gobs of money out there and people will do whatever you want."
    He pushed his foot on the porch to start the rocker moving again. "I think it's possible. I feel like when you know, you know. Sometimes love just happens, even when two people barely know each other. It happens. Probably not to everyone, but it does happen."
    I scrunched my eyebrows together and frowned. "You're not helping."
    "I didn't know I was supposed to help. I thought we were just discussing it." He winked at me. "I'm not saying that's the case for your ex—what's his name?"
    "Matthew."
    "Matthew." He nodded once. "I'm just saying it's possible."
    "I don't disagree with you on that, but you'd have to know Matthew to understand why it doesn't make sense to me. We were together for five years." I shook my head, still shocked by the fact that he was getting married. "For five years we talked about the things I wanted and the things he wanted and I thought we were moving along, you know? Well, sort of anyway, but then one day he tells me he doesn't see himself spending the rest of his life with me." I rocked harder in the chair. "I let myself believe he just wasn't the marrying type because he wasn't mature enough, but it turns out he was. He just didn't want to marry me."
    "I'm kind of glad he's marrying someone else," Ben said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have met you." He showed me his sparkling whites again and my bones turned to jelly.
    "And I'm a barrel of fun at the moment, aren't I?"
    He tilted his head and smirked. "I have a feeling you're gonna let loose any second."
    I held my lemonade out and twisted the glass in my hand. "Maybe if this had a little vodka in it, but otherwise the chances of me letting loose are pretty slim."
    "Vodka can be arranged. So what do you do when you're not holed up in a bed and breakfast with a musician who's making you talk about the one thing you came here to forget?"
    "I'm a graphic designer. I work in Atlanta."
    "Graphic designer, eh? So what exactly is a