Unwrap My Heart: Hope Springs, #4

By Emma Lea

Sara was a cliche, the third wheel, the one who didn't get the guy…and the whole town knew about it. But with Christmas coming, Sara was determined to turn over a new leaf and shake off the dust of the past. Her heart may be broken but that didn't mean it wouldn't mend and what better way to get over her unrequited crush than to get under someone new.

Mitch was the fun guy, the side-kick, the comedic relief. He was fine with that…sort of. He knew he was to blame for the way the town saw him, and it honestly didn't bother him that much. Mitch knew he would never be the leading man.

Then he started to see Sara in a new light.

He could never compete with her life-long crush, but maybe they could have a bit of fun over the Christmas season. He could help her get over Archer and maybe she could help him get over…that thing that happened.

 

*This book is set in Australia and uses Australian/UK English

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma Lea
• Release date: Dec 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215823095

Emma Lea

I am a business owner, artist, cook, mother and wife.  I live on the beautiful Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia with my wonderful husband, two beautiful sons, a dog and a cat (both of which are female because, hey, we needed to balance all that testosterone!) I am a ferocious reader with eclectic tastes and have always wanted to write, but  never had the opportunity due to one reason or another (excuses, really) until finally taking the bullet between my teeth in 2014 and just making myself do it. I love to write stories with heart and a message and believe in strong female characters who do not necessarily have to be aggressive to show their strength.

Book preview

Chapter One

Sara was a cliche.

It was sad but true.

She was the girl who’d held a candle for a guy for half her life, expecting him to one day turn around and fall in love with her, only for him to fall in love with someone else.

She was that girl.

Sara locked the door to the cafe with a sigh and trudged to her car, not even bothering to look at the spectacular sunset painting the sky. Sunsets were for people in love. Sunsets were for the main characters, not the ones in the background.

Even six months after her crush went up in a ball of flames and the object of her obsession and love of her life moved to the city to be with the love of his life, Sara still felt like she was living like one of the secondary characters in a romance movie. The pitiful one. The one everyone felt sorry for…not that they wanted the ending to turn out any other way, mind you. No. They pitied her, not because he chose someone else, but because she had been so misguided in thinking he would ever see her as anything other than just a friend.

She was the ‘just a friend’ character.

It would have been nice if someone had told her that before she made a fool of herself.

Apparently, her crush was so obvious the entire town knew about it, but no one bothered to give her a heads up and tell her, ‘he’s just not that into you.’

So six months later, Archer was gone, and she was left to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.

Why were there never any movies about that secondary character? Why didn’t they get a happy ending?

Was Sara bitter?

Maybe, but who wouldn’t be?

Sara had mapped out her entire life around the man she believed she would share it with. Admitting that she had a wedding Pinterest board wouldn’t have been a lie, and owning up to practising her signature with Archer’s last name about a million times wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

But was she over him?

No.

Nope.

Not even a little bit.

Sara pulled into her driveway and parked the car, sighing again.

It didn’t help that she lived next door to his old house.

She looked over at the house in question. There were tenants in it now, but it would always be Archer’s house.

It didn’t help that she lived in the town they’d both grown up in, and memories of him were around every corner.

It also didn’t help that every time she saw someone in town, they gave her that same pitying look.

And she saw that look a lot. Like…A. Lot.

Sara’s cafe, Brewphoria, was the coffee spot all the locals frequented, so, yeah, people gave her that pitying look Every. Single. Day. Sometimes multiple times a day.

The only thing worse than the pitying look was the pity dates people tried to set her up on. If Sara had a dollar for every sister’s friend’s brother people had tried to set her up with, she could buy…well, she could buy a reasonably priced bottle of wine. It was a small town. There wasn’t a huge population. But when you were the focus of everyone’s pity, it felt like the eyes of the world were on you. On her.

Sara would have thought that in the past six months, another scandal would have rocked the town…or at least something else would have caught the attention of the local bush telegraph.

Apparently not.

It didn’t help that Archer’s new love was a famous musician who had ties to the town. It meant everyone in town had taken ownership of her, even though she’d only been one of the summer kids. Because Ruby was such a big shot, Hope Springs had claimed her as their own. And, of course, they loved the fact that one of their homegrown boys had fallen for her.

But what about Sara?

She was a homegrown girl.

Shouldn’t the town have wanted her and Archer to end up together?

But that wasn’t the case, and she was stuck in that place of being the pitiful girl…woman.

Okay, Sara might have said some mean things to Scarlett. Undeserved things. And she may have been a tiny bit of a bitch…okay, she’d been a raging bitch to both Scarlett and Archer, but it was out of frustration and hurt and…grief.

The grief of losing a dream she’d held onto for so long that she didn’t know what her life would look like without it.

The way she acted and the things she said were out of character for her and she had apologised to both Archer and Scarlett, but things would never be the same between the three of them.

Thankfully, the rest of the town hadn’t witnessed Sara turning into the villain of the romcom that was the love story of Scarlett and Archer. If anyone had gotten wind of the way she’d behaved and the things she’d done and said, it wouldn’t be the pitying looks she’d be dealing with.

That was something, at least.

And yes, she could admit she had turned into Maleficent for a while, and she tried not to justify her appalling behaviour, but…but she had been hurt. She was still hurting. Still grieving. Still trying to work out what her new life looked like now that Archer wasn’t in it.

Sara opened the car door and heaved herself out. She felt like she’d aged fifty years in the past six months. The weight of the world was heavy on her shoulders, and that wasn’t counting the five extra kilos she’d put on. Not that she cared about her weight. She was still healthy…or at least as healthy as anyone could be when they worked in a cafe and were surrounded by food all day long. So what if she’d taken to eating her feelings? There were worse things. It could be drugs. And don’t even come at her with the ‘sugar is a drug’ thing. Sara was not here for that bullshit.

The house was dark and empty…like her heart.

Sara snorted. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to turn into that crazy old lady who yelled at the kids to get off her lawn. #lifegoals

She had loved her little house, once upon a time. But it had lost its appeal, especially since she and Archer had spent so much time together within its walls. But it was just a house and she would get over it…eventually.

‘How’re you doing?’ Mable Perkins asked as she paid for her coffee.

‘I’m good,’ Sara replied with a wide, fake smile.

Mable reached across the counter and patted Sara’s hand, giving her a sympathetic look. ‘That’s good. Keep your chin up.’

Sara’s smile was brittle on her face and she worried if she tried to speak, her facade would crack and she’d unleash all the frustration and hurt onto Mable, who really didn’t deserve it. So Sara just nodded and moved away from the counter to take care of Mable’s order.

Brewphoria had been Sara’s happy place. There was nothing she liked better than cooking food for people and seeing the smiles on their faces when they ate. Most people might not consider working in a cafe a career choice. It was usually something a person did when they were studying or waiting for their ‘real’ career to come along, but not Sara. She knew she wanted to own a cafe from the moment she first started working in one.

Back then, it was just called ‘Hope Springs Cafe’ and the owners had been a lovely couple who didn’t know the difference between instant coffee and espresso, not to mention pour-overs. Sara had gotten a job after school clearing tables and doing the dishes and then she’d helped in the kitchen and before she knew it, she was learning how to make coffee and had fallen in love.

Sara was born to be a cafe owner…or at least that’s what she’d thought. Until her life had turned into a shitshow. Now she questioned her career choice every single morning. It wasn’t the four a.m. starts that made her wonder if she’d chosen the wrong career. No, it was the people and the fact that in a small town like Hope Springs, everybody knew everything about everyone.

Ask any cafe owner who their bread and butter was, and invariably the answer would be the same; the regulars. Those customers who came in every single day. The ones that ordered the same thing every day. The ones who could walk in and say, ‘I’ll just have my usual, thanks.’ They were the ones who kept a small business like Brewphoria alive. But over the last six months, Sara had begun to resent them. She had begun to resent everything about her life.

Maybe she should leave town?

Sara slid the completed coffee onto a saucer and added a teaspoon and a chocolate coated coffee bean before taking it out to Mable’s table. It was just Sara’s luck that Mable was sitting with the queens of gossip, one of whom just happened to be Scarlett’s grandmother.

‘There you go, Mable,’ Sara said with a smile she hoped was convincing. ‘Now, can I get you ladies anything else?’

‘What flavour are the muffins today?’ Pearl asked.

‘Just the one. Cranberry, white chocolate and pistachio,’ Sara replied. ‘Can I heat one up for you?’

‘That would be lovely,’ Pearl said. ‘And bring a couple of extra forks so we can share.’

‘No problem,’ Sara replied, walking away from the table before she could say something she would regret.

Of course, they wanted to share a muffin. Of course, they couldn’t be bothered to buy one each. They were happy to take up a table and sit there for hours nursing their one coffee each and share a four dollar fifty muffin between them. Never mind that what they spent didn’t even cover the cost of the time they spent sitting there.

‘Smile, Sar,’ a deep voice said from behind her.

Sara swung around with the tongs she’d used to put the muffin in the microwave raised.

‘Whoa,’ Mitch said, holding his hands up in defence, a smirk on his face. ‘Who pissed in your coffee this morning?’

Sara turned her back on him and pressed the button for the microwave. ‘Are you here to look at the fridge?’ she asked, ignoring his comment.

‘Yeah, mum said you called to say it wasn’t maintaining the temperature?’

‘Have at it,’ Sara said.

The microwave beeped, and she grabbed the muffin out and slid it onto a plate with four napkins and four cake forks and a little dish of cream. No, she wouldn’t be giving them extra cream. Fuck’em.

She stepped around Mitch on her way back out to the table. All she needed right now was a problem with one of the fridges. It was just coming into summer and if the fridge died overnight, she would lose money and have to throw out food—the one thing she absolutely despised doing. Mitch was the son of the local electrician. She supposed he was technically an electrician, too, but she couldn’t help seeing him as the class clown who was always getting into trouble for doing stupid shit. The fact that he was now allowed to mess around with electricity was scary. She couldn’t complain about his work, though she preferred it when his dad was the one fixing her appliances.

‘There you go,’ Sara said as she placed the muffin in the centre of the table.

She walked away immediately, not even bothering to ask if they wanted anything else. The very last thing she wanted to do was to prolong the conversation with them. One of them would no doubt try to set her up with someone they knew…or at least with the son/grandson of someone they knew.

If she was in a better headspace, she might even find their meddling endearing and sweet, but…no. Just no. She didn’t find it the least bit adorable and would be quite happy if no one mentioned her going on a date again in like, forever.

‘Sara.’

She looked up and smiled—genuinely this time—at the local real estate agent.

‘Meg,’ Sara said, heading immediately to the coffee machine. ‘The usual?’

‘Yes, please,’ Meg replied, stepping over so she could chat to Sara while she made the coffee. ‘Also, I need you to come into the office.’

Sara raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh? Is there a problem?’

‘No problem, or at least, I don’t think it is. Your tenants have given notice. Two weeks. I have a rental waiting list a mile long, so I don’t think it will be hard to find new tenants, but you might need to do some small repairs before they move in.’

Sara nodded as she poured the milk into the latte. ‘It’s due for a bit of a freshen up,’ she said, capping the cup and handing it to Meg.

‘We could head over there tomorrow, if you’ve got some time. I’ll let the tenants know we’re coming, if you can give me a time.’

‘After lunch,’ she replied, ringing up Meg’s order and adding it to her account. ‘About two?’

‘Perfect,’ Meg said, waving as she left.

Sara stood in front of the old house and let the memories wash over her. How long had it been since she’d come out here? Too long. The current tenants had been in the house for four years and Sara had probably only been out to the property once or twice since they’d moved in. Her first impression? It had aged.

The tenants had taken good care of it and the real estate kept up with the maintenance but…it had been an old house to begin with and the four years that had passed hadn’t done it any favours.

Sara inherited the house when her grandmother passed away. At the time, she’d just bought the cafe and hadn’t needed the extra complication of the house, so she’d rented it out and pretty much forgotten about it. That was ten years ago. It’d had a few different tenants in that time, but these last ones had been in it the longest.

‘Shall we go in?’ Meg asked.

‘Yeah,’ Sara replied with a sigh.

She followed Meg up the stairs and onto the rickety porch.

‘Some of these boards are going to need replacing,’ Meg said. ‘It would be a wonderful opportunity to check out the stumps as well.’

Sara nodded and turned back to look across the land. The house was on a decent size property, on a hill, a little way out of town. It had a long dirt driveway up from the road and there was a nice view of the town from its elevated position.

Her grandmother and grandfather built the house back in the fifties and it had pretty much stayed the same ever since. Sara spent a lot of time here when she was a kid, running wild through the paddocks and playing shop in the little fruit stand out by the road. Her grandmother always had something growing, whether it was lemons, limes, and mandarines or pumpkins and zucchinis.

Meg opened the old door and led her into the house. It looked nothing like she remembered it, but that was because the furniture belonged to the current tenants. If memory served, her grandmother’s furniture was stored in a back shed somewhere.

‘Oh. There’s a bit more work than I expected,’ Meg said with a click of her tongue.

Sara looked past the furnishings to take in the bones of the house. The walls were faded, and the floors needed new carpet. When they walked into the kitchen, Sara recoiled in horror.

‘Are these appliances original?’ she asked.

Meg laughed. ‘No, but they look like it.’

Sara shook her head. ‘This entire kitchen needs a refurb,’ she said. ‘The bathrooms too, probably.’

Meg nodded. ‘It wouldn’t hurt. But that means not having it available for tenants for a few months, or longer. We’re coming up to Christmas and the New Year. Busy time for real estate. Lots of people looking to move, if you’re interested in selling.’

Sara looked around. The house owed her nothing. The rent she earned from it paid the mortgage on her other house. She could sell it, she supposed. The property market was pretty hot right now but…but she didn’t really want to get rid of the place. She had been close to her grandmother and having this little bit of her was something she wanted to hold on to for a while longer.

Sara shook her head. ‘Nah, I don’t think I want to sell it.’

She looked around the kitchen. It was huge. Sure, the appliances were from the last millennium and the cabinetry needed updating, but she could imagine what it would look like. She could see the sparkling new appliances—that Falcon Classic Deluxe freestanding induction cooker she’d been drooling over and the door-in-door French door fridge with water and ice dispenser. To put it frankly, Sara could imagine her dream kitchen in this space, which was probably why the next words out of her mouth were, ‘I’ll move in here.’

‘What?’ Meg asked, turning to her with surprise.

Sara nodded, warming to the idea. ‘I’ll move in here and rent out my place in town.’

It was the perfect plan, and Sara didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it sooner. It would have the added benefit of getting her away from all the memories of Archer that permeated her house like ghosts. And she wouldn’t have to see his house every single day of her life.

‘You’re going to live here while you renovate?’ Meg asked.

‘Sure. Why not?’

Meg laughed. ‘You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.’

‘Maybe not,’ Sara replied. ‘But I need something new in my life, so why not this?’

‘Okay,’ Meg said. ‘I can have your place rented within the week if you’re serious.’

‘A week might be too soon,’ Sara replied. ‘There’s two weeks until the tenants vacate here, right?’

Meg nodded.

‘Okay, so let’s plan for me to move in here a week after that and my place will be ready the following week. So…four weeks?’

Meg nodded, scrolling through the calendar on her phone. ‘I can do that,’ she said, making a note. ‘The timing will be good too. The beginning of November is a big month. Everyone wants to be in by Christmas.’

‘Perfect,’ Sara said, looking around.

It felt right. It felt like the perfect solution and for the first time since Scarlett had come back to Hope Springs and ruined Sara’s life, she finally felt like things were turning around.

‘Perfect,’ Sara said again.

Chapter Two

Mitch’s four-wheel drive bumped over the rutted driveway. His destination was the old house on top of the hill. It had been a while since he’d been out this side of the town. His dad mostly looked after the people out this way. They were mostly older folk and didn’t quite trust him with their electrical work. He could understand it, even if it stung a little. He’d been a hellraiser as a teen and most people still saw him that way. To be honest, he was still a bit of a hellraiser, but not when it came to his work. Working with electricity was no joke, and he knew how to be professional. He worked hard, but he liked to play hard too…which sounded so trite and cliched, but what could he do? He was a stereotype, and that suited him just fine.

Mitch parked the car beside Sara’s SUV and climbed out. She wouldn’t be happy that he was here instead of his dad, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. The rest of the town would have to get used to him attending to their electrical needs, too. His dad wanted to retire, and Mitch was more than ready to take over. The transition would be slow. People in Hope Springs weren’t exactly fond of change, and that suited Mitch, too. He didn’t resent working with his dad at all. He had learned so much from him and he respected him immensely. As for how the rest of the town would react well…they didn’t have much choice but to deal with it. Wilder Electrical Contractors were the only local electricians and if they didn’t want Mitch doing the work, they would have to call in someone from out of town. Another thing Hope Springs locals weren’t a fan of.

‘Mitch?’

Mitch raised his hand to Sara in greeting as he climbed the stairs.

‘Morning, Sara,’ he said.

‘I was expecting your dad.’

‘Yeah, well, he couldn’t make it.’

‘He’s not sick, is he?’ she asked, concern in her voice.

Mitch shook his head, pleased that her first concern was his dad’s health. Sara was like that, though. Despite the minor blip a few months ago, she was genuinely kind and thoughtful.

‘He’s fine, just wants to slow down a bit. You don’t mind me having a look though, right?’

Sara folded her arms and looked him over. He could almost hear her thoughts as she mulled over the decision to accept him or send him away. It was shitty, but that was the bed he’d made for himself. He just hoped the work he’d done for her previously would speak to his ability.

Sara sighed. ‘Come on in. Do you want a cuppa?’

‘That’d be great,’ he said as he toed off his work boots and followed her into the house.

He looked around the foyer, taking in the sight of the old place. It needed some major work done and, frankly, he was surprised Sara was taking it on.

‘I need a complete evaluation of the state of the wiring and an estimation of how much it is going to cost.’

Mitch nodded, pulling out his phone to make notes. ‘Are you thinking of adding anything extra to the current electrical load?’

‘I want to put solar on,’ Sara replied. ‘And…’

He stopped tapping on his phone and looked up at her. ‘And?’

She blushed, making him blink.

Huh.

He shook off the weird feeling and raised an eyebrow at her. ‘And?’ he repeated.

She groaned. ‘Okay, but don’t laugh at me.’

Mitch grinned. ‘No promises.’

Sara rolled her eyes and led him through the house to the kitchen. On the big kitchen table was a spread of glossy booklets, and he immediately knew what she was going to ask him.

‘I want this cooker and this fridge and…and I want an entire wall of outlets so I can plug in all my appliances. My plan is to have a double wide bench with roll-down door so I can leave my electric mixer and slow cooker and whatever plugged in on the bench but pushed back against the wall so when they’re not in use I can pull down the little doors to hide them and keep my benches clear.’

Mitch grinned at her rambling. ‘That sounds…smart,’ he said. ‘Especially for someone who loves cooking as much as you do. It also solves the problem of storing them.’

‘Right?’ she said, turning to him and beaming. ‘No one else really understands. I even had