Page 28 of Sweet Summertide

“That’s it? No sneaky scheme or flirting to try and get under my skin?” he said and snatched his flyer from her fingers more dramatically than he intended. During the motion, he touched the back of her hand for a split second. His fingers tingled. The sensation was enough to send heat around his body and up his neck. If he could just tell his body that she was his nemesis, then perhaps he could cease burning for her. Not seeing her every single day would make it considerably easier to get her off his mind, but the nearness of their shops would make that desire unattainable.

Holly placed a soft hand on his forearm. “Listen, Teddy, I know I went too far with the last stunt, and I promise my troublemaking days are behind me. You just keep planning your chocolate tasting.” Holly patted the stack of flyers in his arm.

She was being suspiciously nice. He sighed, desperate for the feeling of freefalling to end. Since the moment he met her, his life had been floating on the breeze and had been picking up speed each day. “I can’t read you, and I really don’t want to fight with you, Holly.” His moment of honesty was met with a side eye and shoulder shrug. “I don’t know why, but I can’t escape your gravity.”

This shut her up. She swallowed and blinked in rapid succession like she was grasping for words; some snide remark that would only serve to disguise her feelings, whatever they were. One thing he was sure about was that he was not the source of her pain. If she allowed him in, he would fight for her, not against her.

“Holly, I meant what I said in the woods the other day.”

She shook her head. “I don’t recall you saying much.” Her cheek pulled up and scrunched the skin under her eye. It was subtle but he knew she was thinking about that kiss.

“Truce?” he said and wet his lips.

Holly leaned in and placed her mouth near his ear. Her breath cooled his heated skin, and his heart thudded against his ribs while he held a shallow breath. “Would you like that?” her whispered words vibrated through his veins. She kissed his earlobe, letting her soft lips press into his flesh. She backed off and looked at him up and down.

“That’s not an answer.”

Holly turned and her bag caught the corner of his flyers, pulling the stack out of his hands. Papers scattered all over the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry.” She bent down and began gathering loose papers.

Theodor chased a few caught in a gust and met her back at the light pole. “That wasn’t on purpose, was it?” He let his hand rest atop hers as she handed the flyers back to him.

“No, but I probably deserved that,” she said. “Good luck with your event. I mean it.” She turned and walked away, leaving him to wonder whether the nice-girl act was real or not.

CHAPTER 15

Holly would never admitit to her mother, but she was made for moments like the one she was about to step into. All her years of media training, etiquette lessons, and countless experiences attending high-profile events aided in boosting her confidence. Her heels scraped the white concrete sidewalk as she stopped in front of the pink Victorian house at the far end of Main Street. Standing beyond the white picket-fence gate, she took in the moment before going in.

Every window glowed with soft yellow light and dozens of guests moved through the expertly designed spaces. She had seen glimpses of America and Leo’s home during girl’s night, but she had yet to see it completely outfitted. Knowing Millie’s taste and attention to details, Holly was sure the home would look spectacular.

Millie waved at Holly through the front bay window and sprinted out the front door towards her. “Boy, am I glad you’re here. I can only do small-talk for so long before I want to rip my ears off.”

“It’s going that well, huh?”

With arms threaded together, the two women strolled the short distance through the front garden. Holly’s heels tappedwith each footfall along the brick path and low, boxwood hedges tickled the sides of her exposed calf. An older couple, wearing business suits, walked out of the house. Holly and Millie shuffled to one side of the path and let the guests pass by. The woman smiled and nodded to Millie as she departed.

Millie leaned into Holly. “I just feel so out of my league with these people, like I’m a poser or something.”

“I think everyone feels that way when starting something new. But look at all these people who are going to know your name and your business after tonight.”

“I have gotten a lot of interest in my design services, which is good,” Millie said and smiled.

“This open-house was a brilliant idea, then,” Holly said and scanned the guests faces to see if she knew anyone. Luckily, she didn’t, but being so close to home meant that there was always a chance to run into an old flame, or grade-school teacher somewhere. She just wasn’t prepared to have to explain the whole situation.

“Looking for someone?” Millie asked as they approached the front steps. “A certain chocolatier maybe?”

“What?” Holly said. “I was not actually, but now that you mention him … no.”

“If you say so.” Millie laughed. “And this event wasn’t my doing. America thought it would be a nice way to thank the community for everything they’ve done. I’m just mooching off the opportunity.”

“Millie, it’s not like you’re taking credit for something you didn’t do. I know you came in halfway through the project, but look at what you’ve accomplished?—”

“You want to see the scrapbook?” Millie said and yanked Holly through the foyer and up the stairs.

Last time she was there, Holly kept to the kitchen and parlor and hadn’t ventured anywhere else. At the top of the woodenstaircase, a veranda wrapped around the two-story entryway with rooms lining the other side. Millie led her around the walkway where a soft scent of warm vanilla called them to a room at the front end of the house.

“Is this Cinderella’s library?” Holly asked and went straight to the shelves filled with books. At the center of the longest wall, candles flickered in the old fireplace box. An oversized gilded mirror hung above the white painted mantel and reflected the position of a small desk on the opposite side of the room.

“I suppose you could say that. It’s America’s office,” Millie said and sat at the desk positioned under the window. “And before you ask, I had nothing to do with this space, it was all America. Well … I rearranged the books and added some new throw pillows to the egg chair.”

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