Unwritten
Page 47
I don’t know how I manage to get myself together and get out of the room before I throw myself back in bed crying “take me now,” but somehow I manage to brush my hair and slick on some lipgloss and tug a now-clothed Blake out onto the stairs. “Shh,” I murmur, as I creep down. “I don’t want Mrs. Olsen knowing—”
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Her bright voice cuts me off before I can sneak him out the front door. I cringe, turning to where she’s waiting by the kitchen. Her gaze lands past me on Blake. She arches an eyebrow.
Oh crap.
But I haven’t reckoned on Blake’s charm. “Blake Callahan, a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He quickly steps forward, holding his hand out to shake. “Are you the one to blame for all those delicious scones? My trainer is going to have words for you,” he adds, with a trademark grin.
Mrs. Olsen blushes. “It’s nothing. Are you both heading out? I’m just making a batch of waffles, if you’d like.”
Blake’s eyes light up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you get in the kitchen,” she says, ushering him back. “And I’ll put some bacon on the grill too.”
I follow, relieved she’s not offended by me having an overnight guest. But Mrs. Olsen doesn’t seem to mind at all, and soon we’re sitting around the kitchen table while she piles our plates high with food.
“You definitely got the five-star deal,” Blake says enviously, wolfing down a second portion of waffles. “Dex can barely keep the cupboards stocked with cereal, he’s living on takeout while Alicia is away.”
Mrs. Olsen tuts. “A strapping man like you needs a proper meal. Come by the diner tomorrow, I’ll be making my famous meatloaf.”
“An offer I can’t refuse.”
I relax, enjoying the food and Blake’s conspiratorial smile across the table. “How long have you been running the B&B?” I ask, when finally Mrs. Olsen takes a seat with us and sips her cup of tea.
“Oh, going on fifteen years now,” she smiles. “My family wanted me to retire from running the diner when I started having trouble with my hip, but I had too much time to myself. I said, ‘What are you going to do, sit around and knit all day?’ So I opened up this place.”
“Is your family still in Beachwood Bay?” I ask, curious.
“No, my boy left for college and never looked back.” She gives a doting smile. “I have three grandkids now, all high-flyers, barely a moment to themselves.” She shakes her head. “My Noelle is the one who likes to come visit. She’s the youngest, about your age,” she nods at Blake. “Works as an attorney at a big firm in the city. Glued to her cellphone, these days. I tell her, you’ll work yourself into an early grave racing at that pace for too long. But she won’t listen,” Mrs. Olsen tuts again fondly. “You kids don’t realize if you don’t take a moment, life will pass you by.”
Blake meets my eyes over the table. He smiles, amused by her stories, but the affection in Mrs. Olsen’s voice makes me feel a wistful pang. I never had much family: my parents were only children, and my grandparents either passed away or live on the other side of the world. Sitting here, listening to her stories, makes me wish I’d had a Mrs. Olsen of my own. Even though it’s early, her grey hair is elegantly styled and she’s wearing a matching sweater set and skirt. The only eccentric touch is the pair of baby blue Uggs on her feet.
She catches me looking and laughs. “What do you think? They were a gift from Noelle last year. She says they’re the warmest things around.”
“I like them.” I smile, then catch sight of the time. “We’re due on set in five! I’m so sorry, we have to go!”
Blake hurriedly stuffs the last of his waffles in his mouth and pushes back his chair. “Thank you for breakfast,” he adds, ever the gentleman. “You’ve made a hungry man very happy.”
Mrs.Olsen blushes again. “Get on with you,” she says, shooing us out. “And take some muffins for the road!”
Blake sinks back in the passenger seat with a groan. “I’m lucky I don’t have a love scene today,” he says, slapping his stomach. “That woman is the devil. I won’t be able to move for days.”
I laugh, starting the engine and backing out of the drive. “Isn’t she the best though? I bet she’s seen everything, living in this town for so long.”
“It must be nice, putting down roots like that; everyone knowing your name,” Blake agrees.
“Is small-town life calling your name?” I tease, as the wintery landscape speeds past outside the car windows. “First Dex, then Tegan… Soon all you Callahans will be taking over Beachwood Bay.”
Blake shakes his head. “Maybe for vacations, but I need to be in LA for my career.”
I pause, giving him a careful glance. “So you’re not giving up?”
Blake shakes his head. “No, I’m not a quitter. I never really meant it, I guess I over-reacted. I’m sorry about unloading everything last night,” he adds, taking my hand. “It just hit me hard, you know?”
“I know.” I squeeze his hand back. “And there’s nothing to apologize for. I’m here whenever you need to talk, good news or bad.”
Blake’s smile turns quieter. “It might take me a while,” he murmurs. “I guess I’m not used to sharing the bad stuff with anyone.”
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Her bright voice cuts me off before I can sneak him out the front door. I cringe, turning to where she’s waiting by the kitchen. Her gaze lands past me on Blake. She arches an eyebrow.
Oh crap.
But I haven’t reckoned on Blake’s charm. “Blake Callahan, a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He quickly steps forward, holding his hand out to shake. “Are you the one to blame for all those delicious scones? My trainer is going to have words for you,” he adds, with a trademark grin.
Mrs. Olsen blushes. “It’s nothing. Are you both heading out? I’m just making a batch of waffles, if you’d like.”
Blake’s eyes light up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you get in the kitchen,” she says, ushering him back. “And I’ll put some bacon on the grill too.”
I follow, relieved she’s not offended by me having an overnight guest. But Mrs. Olsen doesn’t seem to mind at all, and soon we’re sitting around the kitchen table while she piles our plates high with food.
“You definitely got the five-star deal,” Blake says enviously, wolfing down a second portion of waffles. “Dex can barely keep the cupboards stocked with cereal, he’s living on takeout while Alicia is away.”
Mrs. Olsen tuts. “A strapping man like you needs a proper meal. Come by the diner tomorrow, I’ll be making my famous meatloaf.”
“An offer I can’t refuse.”
I relax, enjoying the food and Blake’s conspiratorial smile across the table. “How long have you been running the B&B?” I ask, when finally Mrs. Olsen takes a seat with us and sips her cup of tea.
“Oh, going on fifteen years now,” she smiles. “My family wanted me to retire from running the diner when I started having trouble with my hip, but I had too much time to myself. I said, ‘What are you going to do, sit around and knit all day?’ So I opened up this place.”
“Is your family still in Beachwood Bay?” I ask, curious.
“No, my boy left for college and never looked back.” She gives a doting smile. “I have three grandkids now, all high-flyers, barely a moment to themselves.” She shakes her head. “My Noelle is the one who likes to come visit. She’s the youngest, about your age,” she nods at Blake. “Works as an attorney at a big firm in the city. Glued to her cellphone, these days. I tell her, you’ll work yourself into an early grave racing at that pace for too long. But she won’t listen,” Mrs. Olsen tuts again fondly. “You kids don’t realize if you don’t take a moment, life will pass you by.”
Blake meets my eyes over the table. He smiles, amused by her stories, but the affection in Mrs. Olsen’s voice makes me feel a wistful pang. I never had much family: my parents were only children, and my grandparents either passed away or live on the other side of the world. Sitting here, listening to her stories, makes me wish I’d had a Mrs. Olsen of my own. Even though it’s early, her grey hair is elegantly styled and she’s wearing a matching sweater set and skirt. The only eccentric touch is the pair of baby blue Uggs on her feet.
She catches me looking and laughs. “What do you think? They were a gift from Noelle last year. She says they’re the warmest things around.”
“I like them.” I smile, then catch sight of the time. “We’re due on set in five! I’m so sorry, we have to go!”
Blake hurriedly stuffs the last of his waffles in his mouth and pushes back his chair. “Thank you for breakfast,” he adds, ever the gentleman. “You’ve made a hungry man very happy.”
Mrs.Olsen blushes again. “Get on with you,” she says, shooing us out. “And take some muffins for the road!”
Blake sinks back in the passenger seat with a groan. “I’m lucky I don’t have a love scene today,” he says, slapping his stomach. “That woman is the devil. I won’t be able to move for days.”
I laugh, starting the engine and backing out of the drive. “Isn’t she the best though? I bet she’s seen everything, living in this town for so long.”
“It must be nice, putting down roots like that; everyone knowing your name,” Blake agrees.
“Is small-town life calling your name?” I tease, as the wintery landscape speeds past outside the car windows. “First Dex, then Tegan… Soon all you Callahans will be taking over Beachwood Bay.”
Blake shakes his head. “Maybe for vacations, but I need to be in LA for my career.”
I pause, giving him a careful glance. “So you’re not giving up?”
Blake shakes his head. “No, I’m not a quitter. I never really meant it, I guess I over-reacted. I’m sorry about unloading everything last night,” he adds, taking my hand. “It just hit me hard, you know?”
“I know.” I squeeze his hand back. “And there’s nothing to apologize for. I’m here whenever you need to talk, good news or bad.”
Blake’s smile turns quieter. “It might take me a while,” he murmurs. “I guess I’m not used to sharing the bad stuff with anyone.”
