Page 62 of Holly versus Mr. Ivy
“Unless you’d prefer to take a nap?” Trevor asked. “There are still plenty of activities happening today, and I don’t want you to get so worn out that you head to bed early and miss out.”
Deidre nodded, ever so slowly. “You’re right. A rest will do me wonders. You can tell me the football scores when I wake up.”
So it was going to just be me and Trevor? Oh, joy. When I planned to come early, it was to spend more time with Holly, not her brother, who so far hadn’t given off the friendliest of vibes.
Pulling out my phone, I clicked on an app to occupy my time until Trevor came back from helping Deidre to her bed and turned on the game. At least football was a sport I loved, and as long as Trevor did too, we’d have one thing to talk about.
Water rushed through the pipes in the wall, and my mouth went dry as I pictured Holly in the shower. Naked. Heat simmered along my limbs, pooling in my stomach. Holly might have been embarrassed about her appearance this morning, but honestly? All I imagined was weekend mornings waking up next to her looking exactly like that. Her just-rolled-out-of-bed look rivaled the jeans I loved.
I had stayed away from Holly as much as possible for an entire month. One, because of the conversations I’d had with Uncle Anthony. Not only after firing Darby, but he’d called me the second week of November, asking for another update on the restaurant, which included a stern reminder to keep things professional with the chef. The second reason I pulled back was because I was humiliated she’d had to drive me home and get me to bed. I wasn’t quite ready to share that piece of my life. Third, because after helping Jack pack up his family bakery, I was in a slump and really struggling to do anything but get myself to work. And fourth, the restaurant numbers had increased, but not as much as I’d anticipated. I’d been worried about failing and honestly didn’t even know how to balance managing my anxiety, reaching our goal, and going after Holly.
Basically, November sucked. All my pulling away had done was make me want Holly more. Watching her with the staff, hearing her laugh at something Skye said, seeing a new light in her eyes, all made me long to pull her into my office and kiss those pink lips of hers.
I’d succeeded in stuffing those feelings down and not acting on them.
Until Jack came to see me about Meg last week.
If my best friend, Mr. Grump of the highest order, could want love and fight for it in a way that made him squirm, why couldn’t I?
There were precautions Holly and I had to take. I wasn’t going to ask her to date me and hire a skywriter to proclaim it for all the world to see. But I did want to spend more time with her. Even if it was just as friends with the understanding that eventually, we could transition to more.
Trevor came back into the room, passing by to take a seat on the couch. He sat closer than before until only one cushion separated us. He slapped my shoulder, harder than necessary.Got it, man. You’re still not happy about me hanging around your sister.
“Do you like football?” he asked.
I nodded. “I do.”
“Good,” he grunted and turned on the TV. We watched the game in silence.
Come on, Holly, where are you? Save me from your brother.PLEASE.
Fifty minutes later, the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about finally made an appearance. The tan family room rug turned into a red carpet with the way Holly strutted out in black skinny jeans, a gold sweater, her gorgeous black hair styled in soft waves, and deep red lips.
My pulse ticked up a few notches as I swept my gaze up and down Holly’s curves.Dang, she was beautiful.Inside and out. I couldn’t wait for Saturday when we would spend time together without Holly’s family or our coworkers around us. If only I could glide my hands across her skin, taste her lips, and hold her in my arms right now.
“What are you watching?”
“Bills and Lions.” Trevor patted the cushion on the side of him that wasn’t close to me. “Come join us. There’s not much else to do until the food is ready.”
“Wrong.” Holly smirked. “It’s time for lunch.”
“You’ve been cooking all day. Let me make you something,” I offered, hopping up from the couch, eager to be with Holly. As much as I loved football, especially on Thanksgiving, I’d choose Holly over a game any day.
“I don’t know if you can,” Holly said doubtfully. “I usually make a pretty decadent lunch consisting of a pureed nut butter spread with a strawberry reduction sauce served on a whole wheat baguette.”
A laugh burst out of me. “Really? You have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on Thanksgiving?”
Holly smiled, her blue eyes shining. “Yeah. All the good stuff isn’t ready yet, and I want to save room.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it, bro,” Trevor said. “It’s the perfect pre-stuff-your-face meal.”
Who was I to disrupt their traditions? “PB and J it is. Where are the ingredients?”
“Come on.” Holly waved me to follow her. In the walk-in pantry, I stayed right on Holly’s heels. The closet was lined with white floor-to-ceiling shelves, leaving just enough space for two people to stand inside.
My chest was inches from Holly’s back, where she stood to reach for the peanut butter on the fourth shelf. I leaned forward until my face was next to hers. “Allow me.”
Holly shivered. “Oh. Okay.”
