The Wishing Season Read Online Free PDF Page A

Simmons pressed her palms together. “It’s just perfect, isn’t it? I know there’s a detail or two to work out, but I’m certain we can handle it.”
    “That’s a very . . . creative approach, ma’am,” Cole said, finally finding his voice.
    “The community will love it—a hearty competition being played out right in front of them. Plus a lovely restaurant and a noble cause to boot.” She sat back, looking so proud.
    “I’m sure they will.” He prodded PJ with his look.
    “Um . . .” PJ cleared her throat. “Mrs. Simmons, this may be more complicated than you’ve figured. I mean, how can high school kids be expected to cook fine cuisine? And where are we going to live in the meantime?”
    “Why, you’ll teach the kids, dear! You’re a McKinley. I’m sure you’re up to the task. And there’s plenty of room for the both of you. PJ, you’ll take the first floor, and Cole will take the second. It won’t take much at all to add a little kitchen up there. I’ve thought it all through. I’m having the agreements drawn up as we speak, and they’ll be ready to sign next week.”
    She squeezed both their hands. “Now, I really hate to run, but Snowball is traumatized from her difficult morning, and I really must get back to her.”
    She gave one last slurp of her smoothie, her wrinkled red lipspursed around the straw. “I’ll call you next week, and we’ll meet to sign the papers. I’m so excited! I can’t wait to see how it all turns out. Have a lovely afternoon, dearies.”
    PJ watched her leave, watched the door fall shut behind her. A squeak escaped her throat. More customers entered and exited. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the door.
    Cole broke the silence. “What just happened? We can’t share the house, and my kids aren’t serving in some froufrou restaurant for rich people. They’ve had enough people looking down their nose at them.”
    PJ glared at him. “Now you find your voice? Where was it two minutes ago when Mrs. Simmons was sitting right in front of you?”
    “You didn’t tell me she was nuts.”
    “She’s not nuts. She’s . . . eccentric.”
    “Well, we have to talk her out of this.”
    PJ closed her eyes, past experiences with Mrs. Simmons flitting through her mind. The community garage sale, the theater ticket incident, the annual auction.
    “What?” he asked.
    “You don’t know how stubborn she is. She’s not changing her mind.”
    “We have to talk to her. Make her understand it won’t work. We can’t pour all this money and energy into a house we might lose.”
    “You’re right, it won’t work. So why don’t you just do the honorable thing and back out?”
    “Since when is quitting honorable? And if you’re so fond of the idea, why don’t you back out?”
    Had she thought his green eyes mesmerizing? She bit her tongue, literally, and looked away. They had to fix this. It couldn’t work. Could it?
    He leaned into his elbows. “Listen, I need this more than you—”
    “How do you figure?” She was out on her own with hardly a penny in the bank and working in a freaking candy store.
    “These kids need this.”
    She pictured the images from his poster board and felt a stab of guilt. “And my business venture is self-serving, is that what you’re saying?”
    He clenched his jaw and looked out the picture window.
    “My enterprise will help this community. And it’s my community. My home. I belong here.”
    He looked at her. Something flickered in his eyes before they shuttered.
    She remembered his foster kid childhood and felt another prick of guilt. He probably hadn’t felt as if he’d ever belonged anywhere. An ache swelled in her gut. “Listen, I’m sorry, I—”
    “This isn’t feasible. We can’t get along for five minutes, much less live under the same roof for a year.”
    She shrugged. “We don’t necessarily have to live there.”
    “Speak for yourself, Sunshine.”
    PJ crossed her arms, the ache inside fading fast. He had her