Peaceful Pines (The Pines Book One): The Pines, #1

By Crystal Harper

Love finds you when you find yourself.

Summer Phillips is ready for a fresh start. When her Manhattan yoga studio fails, she heads back to her hometown. The Pines is an idyllic tourist destination in Vermont, but Summer longs for more in her life than small-town festivals and working for her dentist father. She's welcomed with open arms, but soon discovers things have changed since she left.

Jake Moretti is recovering from the death of his close friend, who willed him everything he owned, including the hardware store. He's lived there a year, but doesn't quite feel like he fits in with the locals.

Summer begins to build her life back with the help of her friends and family. She takes over teaching yoga classes at the local rec center, which reignites her passion for teaching. Even though they're each seeing different people, Jake becomes an attraction Summer can't ignore, and she finds herself drawn to his warmth and charm. He's everything she's ever wanted.

When an old friend comes visiting with a once in a lifetime opportunity, Summer must make a choice about where she truly belongs in life. Does she follow her dreams in business or in love? Can she have it all, or will people get hurt along the way?

Peaceful Pines is the heartwarming first book in The Pines Series by an up-and-coming star in the genre, Crystal Harper.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Woodbridge Press
• Release date: Nov 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393812807

Book preview

Chapter One

Summer Phillips was tired of waiting, so she marched over to the bar and ordered a glass of Cab Sav. The bartender filled it so high it trickled down the sides when she picked it up. He gave her a sympathetic smile as she handed him cash, and she wandered back to the two-person table where she’d placed her jacket.

Dating at thirty wasn’t fun. Resorting to being fixed up on a blind date where the guy was fifteen minutes late was even worse. She glanced at her phone; it was almost eight-thirty, and she wanted nothing more than to be at home curled up in her PJs watching something involving cake or house buying.

The bar was loud: full of high-energy financial district types drinking too much and talking over each other. The air was thick with the smell of Scotch and ten different colognes. A door opened, letting in a cool draft, and Summer saw a man saunter in over the rim of her wine glass as she took a sip. He was handsome, clean-shaven, with an expensive-looking haircut. It was Tim. Annie had shown her his picture on her phone, and that was the only reason she’d even agreed to meet him. Now she felt foolish, wondering if she should just sneak out while she had the chance.

Their eyes locked, and it was too late.

Summer? he asked, unbuttoning his Burberry jacket.

That’s me. You must be Tim, she said, telling herself to loosen up.

A waitress came over and took his drink order, which was a boilermaker. Apparently, they knew him. That was promising. Summer rolled her eyes when she saw his gaze follow the waitress back to the bar, a foolish grin on his face.

Another classic tale of Summer Phillips’ dating life in New York City.

The next hour was spent listening to Tim talk about how great his job was, and how he was going to make enough money in the next year to buy his condo outright: a Battery Park high-rise with a view of Lady Liberty. Summer’s tolerance was running on empty by the time Tim ordered his fourth drink. He kept getting closer, and the moment his hand slid up her thigh, she knew it was time to go home.

Oh, come on, I thought we were getting along, he said with a pathetic attempt at making moon eyes.

Thank you for the drinks. I have a morning class to run. She threw on her jacket, ready to back up her excuse, but Tim had already turned, flirting with the women at the next table over.

She glanced at the time – still early enough that the subway wasn’t a worry – so she headed for the station, which quickly took her the few stops to SoHo. The two glasses of wine were enough to cut the stress of the past few weeks, and she was enjoying not thinking about her failures. It was working until she got to her yoga studio. The sign Om Top of the World sat dark, the lights off. She looked into the windows, pulling her jacket tight against the evening’s cool breeze.

All her dreams had been poured into the place, and she was going to lose it.

Summer fumbled in her purse for the keys and walked to the side, the glass door opening to a staircase to the second floor. Her hideaway from the big city.

Soon she was upstairs, her door separating her from the world outside. She was greeted by purrs and leg rubs, her cat happy for the company.

Oh, Cinnamon, what are we going to do? she asked, picking up the tabby and scratching his head. Mail lay on the floor: another past due bill to add to the pile.

She went to plug her phone in and noticed the voicemail icon at the top of the screen. She must have missed the call while she was out. Setting the cell down and hitting the speaker button, she removed her jacket and kicked her heels to the side, hearing her dad’s voice carry through the small apartment.

Honey bear, it’s just me. I’m sorry about your studio. If you’d just let me help you, maybe you can still make a go of it. Otherwise, you know I always have room for you at the clinic back home. I don’t mean to pressure you, but… I really miss having you around. Anyway, I love you. Call me when you get this.

Summer slid down onto her couch, letting the words wash over her. Maybe it was time to stick her tail between her legs and head home. Cinnamon meowed and jumped on her lap. She twisted her legs onto the cushions to allow her tiny friend to walk on her stomach as she rewound the course of events that had brought her to this decision. She was comforted by big green eyes and a reassuring purr. Time to change things up.

What do you say? she asked him. Do you want to go chase a country mouse for a while?

*

"I still can’t believe you’re closing the doors, Summer," Annie said, concern etched in her voice.

Summer looked around the empty studio. Most of the supplies had been sold off to pay back her last month’s lease payment. She was disappointed, but who did she think she was, throwing up an affordable yoga studio in the heart of SoHo? Sandwiched on the block between a trendy Spirit Cycle and one of those new trampoline exercise places, her rent quickly overcame her income. She’d needed money to eat too.

The offer from her father had been enticing, but she’d set out to make it on her own, and she was going to fail on her own too. Experiment over. Summer had to learn from her mistakes.

Summer? Annie tapped her arm.

She realized she was just standing there, blank-faced. Sorry, Annie. It’s been a tough week.

I can get you an instructor job at the new place in Chelsea. They’re looking for one more. Annie smiled widely, probably hoping she’d take the bait, but Summer had already made up her mind.

Thanks, Annie, but I’ve already sold or given away all my furniture. Summer wondered if she’d ever miss any of the old random stuff, mostly hand-me-downs from her parents and brother. Cinnamon was listlessly trailing around the apartment like a lost soul.

Suit yourself. When are you off? Annie asked.

Tomorrow morning. The Pines await. Summer tried to sound positive, but the words came out with a sarcastic drawl to them.

Well, look me up when you come back to town. I’m going to miss you, S, and thanks again for giving me a job for the last year. It was a lot of fun. Annie gave her a big hug and held her there, as if to say thanks on a deeper level. Summer knew she was going to miss parts of owning the yoga studio, but not the headaches it brought along with it. It would be nice to just be again for a while. She felt the need to find herself again.

Annie left, the door chimes softly clinking at the disturbance. Summer looked around, not seeing the open space she’d come to over a year ago with high hopes and big city dreams. Instead, she just saw a lost year of her life and a failed attempt at making it on her own.

A frame still hung on the wall behind the reception desk, and she walked to it, enchanted at the image. It was her, teaching her first class. The room was packed full, and she could still remember how nervous she’d been that day. She had focused on giving the class a lesson on anxiety. Little did they know she was talking to herself just as much as to anyone else.

Lifting the picture off the hook, she tucked it into her bag and walked down the hall. Maybe it wasn’t a waste of a year after all. Maybe it had helped her become a better version of herself.

With a last glance back, she opened the door, letting the crisp fall air slide in, her hair blowing over her shoulders. She flipped the sign to closed and locked the entryway, slipping the key under the door in an envelope.

It was time for a new chapter in her life. After pad Thai, of course.

Chapter Two

The drive was as expected: long. Fall construction was in full swing, everyone trying to get the work done before winter hit, and it was adding an hour to her already five-hour drive.

You okay back there, Cinnamon? She could see him in the mirror in the back seat of her SUV. He was lying down in his carrier, looking content. He’d always loved car rides, ever since he was a kitten, and she wondered if he was glad to be going back home too, getting to spend his golden years at the house he’d grown up in.

He just meowed and rolled onto his side.

As Summer drove through Vermont, she was once again struck by its beauty. Growing up in the middle of it all numbed the senses a bit, but coming home after being in a concrete jungle made it seem all the more majestic. Massive trees lined the highways, leaves displaying a hint of yellow, proclaiming autumn was here. She passed a few maple syrup roadside stands, the small businesses trying to sell their wares before the leaves all fell off and the snow inevitably arrived. She pulled over at one, getting a bottle for her parents and one for Garrett. Her brother loved the stuff. At least she wasn’t coming home empty-handed.

As she neared the Pines, so many memories flooded back. It had been over a decade since she’d lived there, if she didn’t count the summers between college semesters. She passed the mini golf and gas station named FORE REST near the start of the town and remembered her first kiss there when she was fourteen. It had been awkward and weird, but also wonderful.

To the right was the cottage complex, Maple Mountain Resort, the largest tourist spot in town. It mixed the gorgeous forest known to Vermont with a picturesque lake, where boating and fishing alike brought droves of tourists every year.

Summer noticed how quiet the roads were, telling her the hot time of year was over. There would be another busy weekend or two near Thanksgiving, the cabins a popular retreat for families looking to get away and celebrate. The Pines’ population was always cut in half during the off season, and that was the way the locals liked it.

She was coming up on Main Street and checked the clock. It was two in the afternoon, and she needed another hit of caffeine before heading back to her parents’ house. It felt like home as she drove down the cozy street; familiar faces were around, walking down the sidewalk, and she waved at a few, getting friendly waves in return. It was a contrast to New York, the opposite in almost every way. As much as she liked being nameless in a big city, she still appreciated the friendliness of the small town.

She pulled into an angled parking spot on the side of the road, glancing at the empty ones beside her. It was nothing like what she’d recently been exposed to. This place is crazy quiet, Cinnamon, she said, getting a meow in response.

After rolling the windows down just enough to give the cat some air, she got out of the SUV, stretching her stiff legs from the long drive. Across the street, volunteers were already adding decorations to the town square; pumpkin decals and twinkle lights were starting to cover the cobblestone area. The town square had a stage set up, a large wall for an ever-changing mural, and multiple pergolas, each wrapped in tiny LEDs that would dance to life at nighttime.

Some of her fondest memories were over there in the different seasons: the Spring Fling, the summer solstice, the Pumpkin Festival, and of course, Christmas, each so special to her heart. The Pumpkin Festival would be a week before Halloween, getting everyone into the spirit of autumn, as if they needed it in the perfect setting.

Shaking off the reverie of being back home, she smiled, knowing in her gut it was the right decision. There was nothing wrong with taking a step back, or even sideways.

The coffee shop door opened, an older man in an expensive suit leaving with a coffee and a frown.

Summer smiled at him, getting a scowl in return, and she entered the warm space, smelling a fresh brew floating through the air. She didn’t know who that guy was, but he wasn’t going to get in the way of her having a good return.

A cute young barista stood behind the counter, ready to greet her. Summer thought she might have babysat the girl when she was little. Her black apron was tied over a set of denim overalls and a hot pink tank top. A ponytail struggled to hold her disheveled caramel hair. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen.

What can I get for you? the girl asked. Her nametag had a capitalized HALEY printed on it. It sounded vaguely familiar. The girl’s bright blue eyes glistened as she waited for a reply.

Hello, Haley. I’d love a pumpkin spice latte, Summer said.

My fave! Do we know each other? You knew my name. Haley squinted as if she was figuring out a Rubik’s cube.

Summer laughed and nodded at the plastic tag pinned to the girl’s chest.

Haley blushed a light shade of red and rolled her eyes. God, I can be so stupid. Coming right up.

Used to happen to me all the time, Summer said, putting Haley at ease. She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on her tan dress as she stifled a giggle.

The door chimed, and Summer paid, stepping to the side to let the man behind her order.

Summer? Summer Phillips? a familiar voice asked.

She turned to see a man in a bright blue blazer with a crisp white dress shirt, skinny jeans, and stylish brown shoes to tie it all together. He didn’t quite seem to fit in like the rest of the townsfolk. Maybe he was stopping on his way to the city. Her gaze travelled up to his face; he looked familiar. She went through the list of guys she’d known in her life: men she might have worked with, gone to school with, dated. Ah, there it was!

Bryan! she exclaimed at the sight of her old boyfriend. She was about to stick her hand out for a friendly shake, when he moved in, enveloping her in a big hug.

I can’t believe it’s you. I saw a post from you about moving, but I didn’t know it was back here.

Summer’s head reeled a bit. She and Bryan had been a great couple, but it had been a long time since she’d seen him, let alone thought of him. Seeing him again didn’t bring back any of the emotion that younger Summer would have suspected.

Yeah, I rolled into town just now. I haven’t even been to Mom and Dad’s yet. What have you been up to? she asked. He looked a little hurt by the question but quickly wiped it from his face. Crap. He probably assumed she followed every detail of his life online, but the truth was, she rarely used social media. Of all the things to do, stalking her ex-boyfriend wasn’t high on her priority list.

I work right next door. Real estate. It’s a hot market these days in the Pines, Bryan said, bringing a business card out of his breast pocket. Tell you what. You and me. Dinner tomorrow night at Zucci’s. I’ll fill you in on all the latest town gossip. He gave an effortless wink.

Summer felt a sudden hesitation, mixed with relief that she might actually fit back into a puzzle she’d been away from for so long. The answer was a simple one. You’re on. See you there at seven?

You have to be kidding me, Summer. I’ll pick you up at seven. You think I don’t remember where your parents live? I sold their neighbor’s house last year, Bryan said, giving her a big grin. God, how she used to melt for that smile.

Haley watched their interaction with interest, but when Summer looked her way, she pretended she hadn’t been listening and passed Summer her drink. One pumpkin spice latte.

Bryan’s cell phone rang, and he raised a finger in the air in the universal just-a-minute gesture that Summer had always hated. He talked quietly and quickly, grabbing his coffee and pouring cream into it before writing something down on a piece of scrap paper.

You got it. I’ll be there in twenty, he said before hitting END on the phone. Might just have the biggest deal of the decade on my hands. I’ll call you tomorrow. He leaned in, giving her cheek a light peck, and in a flurry, he was off.

I don’t even think he has my number, she whispered to no one in particular.

She saw Bryan pull away in a Range Rover: a newer model, by the looks of it. He must be doing well for himself. She used to always look down her nose at people that stayed in the Pines after they graduated college, but Bryan seemed to be doing okay with it. Better than her anyway.

Thanks, Haley. Have a great day, Summer