My Beautiful Neighbor (The Greene Family Book 1) Piper Rayne (best e reader for manga .txt) 📖

time I was in Sunrise Bay. My parents never knew I came until my dad received my credit card bill. I was nineteen and Grandma Beatrice had just passed away. My mom said it wasn’t my place to come pay my respects, that the family didn’t know me. And that’s when I showed up and found out about Clara.

He nods. “At the cemetery. I think you were visiting your grandmother’s grave.”

“That was you?” It all comes back to me. He was younger, more boy than man, and he mistakenly thought I was Clara.

He nods. “It was me. So you knew about everything for a long time?”

Just thinking about that moment in my life makes me wish I would’ve listened to my mom. No one knew I was here, and when I saw my biological parents hugging Clara, the pain was immense.

“Yeah. Ready?” I walk out of the aisle, past the man. “Thank you so much. Great store.”

He says bye and I walk out onto the sidewalk, staring at a cupcake shop. I’m not gonna lie, I wouldn’t mind buying a dozen, sitting down on the park bench, and stuffing my face until the pain just goes away.

Cade comes out and unlocks the truck. He tries to open the door for me, but as soon as he hits the key fob, I grab the handle.

Before I shut the door, I turn to face him. “Can you just take me back to Sunrise Bay?”

He nods and rounds the back of the truck. Just as I was starting to warm up to him, he had to go and bring up something painful.

Cade drops me off at the sewing store without saying much else. During the drive to Sunrise Bay, I came to the conclusion that a bookstore would be a great way to earn a living. But I’d need to cash in my 401k from my job in order to afford to renovate. My dad would never give me a loan. Even if he entertained it, Mom would say hell no, hoping it would drive me back to Connecticut.

So after I get some large garbage bags from Handyman Haven and get rid of some of the stuff I’m positive Clara won’t want, I stop the anxiety brewing inside me, deciding it’s time to call home and tell my parents my plan. The last thing I want is my mom showing up in Sunrise Bay. I dial and put the phone on speaker.

My mom answers immediately, as she usually does. “Presley, how are things?”

“Good.”

“When are you coming home? I was just talking to—”

“Mom.”

She’s silent. She knows. The woman knows me better than I know myself. She never could get pregnant, but her motherly instincts never fail her. “You’re staying.”

See? I told you. I inhale a deep breath, waiting for the inevitable lecture. “I have to.”

“You don’t have to,” she says coldly.

I know she’s hurt, and she’s scared. But I hope she can see this as something I need to do. “I want to. I want to start over and find my place in the world, carve out a life for myself.”

“Then go to Boston, go to New York. Start over closer to home. You don’t have to start over in their town.”

My heart breaks for my mom. “This is where the opportunity is. Clara gave me her half, although I’d really like to pay her back. I’m going to cash in my 401k so that I can renovate the space. I want to open a bookstore and gear it toward fiction. Have a kids section and a teen section. Get kids wanting to read early.”

I plead my best case. Mom was the driving force behind me becoming a reader. She pushed me when my literacy was lower than average. She’s the one who spurred the love of the written word inside me.

“You always loved your books. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing now, sweetie?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, rolling a spool of thread back and forth under my fingers on the table.

“I think you enjoy living in those books, imagining yourself in those situations. You’d gush for hours about them. Are you sure you staying there and starting over isn’t you trying to write a new book for yourself?”

Even though the silence is deafening, I think over what she’s saying. “I’m not a Knight here. I’m just Presley, the love child Denise Harrison gave up for adoption.”

“Exactly! That’s like a scarlet letter in a small town, Pres.”

“I can handle it. I’ve handled worse.”

She’s quiet, but I hear her spoon stirring in her teacup. I glance at my phone to see the time, and yeah, this is her tea time every day. Memories of when she would pour a cup and pick up a book while I read beside her on the couch come rushing back.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m going to be okay here.” I truly do believe that. The conversation with Clara went pretty well. I could do without Ethel manipulating me to spend a day with her grandson. Although he’s the one who brought up the idea of me having a bookstore.

I wish I could shake whatever this is I feel for him.

“At least let me come up and help you get set up,” she says.

“I can’t let you do that. I want to do it on my own.”

If my mom comes, she’ll bulldoze me, and this store will end up being what she wants. The need to strike out on my own is like a match that’s been lit inside me. That little flame is growing into a raging fire I can’t put out.

“At least let me come to the grand opening?”

I smile. “Of course.”

“And we’ll be sending you over half the money for Clara. You can pay us back.”

“Mom, no.” I never expected her to be this okay with my move.

“I know you, and you’ll give in to suggestions she gives you or do something to make her happy. If this is really going to be