It was the kind of place tailor-made for hosting elegant garden parties, bustling town council meetings, and perhaps even the occasional royal coronation.
Both levels boasted large decks, and gleaming white railings curved gracefully around the building. Beck let out a low whistle of admiration as his eyes followed the expansive, polished wood decks, which stretched out invitingly. They dwarfed his entire cottage, making it seem like a mere dollhouse in comparison.
The privacy fence encircling the property was less aboutquaint picket charm and more about declaring,“You must be this important to enter.”The driveway alone could host a food truck festival. Tucked along one side was a three-car garage, because obviously Caroline Hollis would need parking for multiple modes of transportation. Speaking of which …
There it was.Slumped just off to the side like a forgotten parade float:The Hollis Express. Her golf cart chariot. One tire was flat, a rogue pool noodle was hanging out of the back, and the little flag on top flapped with the defeated dignity only Caroline could pull off.
The whole place looked likeCoastal Livinghad exploded after a night out with Barbie. Beck let out a slow whistle and muttered, “This woman is going to eat me alive.”
For reasons he didn’t care to examine too closely, he couldn’t wait.
He opened the passenger door, set one foot on the long walkway, and buttoned up his collared shirt, feeling as out of place as a man his age could feel in anything other than flip-flops.
“Come on, Quint.”
The dog hopped out and dropped its nose to the ground, sniffing suspiciously along the tall white fence. Beck reached over his seat and lifted a bouquet of wildflowers, which somehow represented Caroline’s personality no one knew existed, and a six-pack of beer from the passenger seat.
With the flowers tucked under his arm and the beer dangling from his fingertips, he nudged the door of his truck shut with a sway of his hips and strolled confidently toward the inviting entrance. The front yard was a sea of lush grass dotted with the soft hues of blooming lilac bushes, their sweet fragrance mingling with the warm evening air. Rows upon rows of Virginiabluebells filled a large, curving flowerbed, while terracotta planters lined the entire length of the wrap-around porch, spilling over with vibrant blooms and large hostas. Decadent ferns hung from hooks and swayed gently in the breeze.
White wicker chairs and a matching loveseat, each adorned with cushions in vivid shades of turquoise and coral, were arranged in inviting groups. Beck spied at least two of these seating arrangements scattered down the porch, forming intimate nooks perfect for quiet moments or private conversations.
As he reached the first step, the door swung open. Caroline appeared in the doorway, and Beck felt his heart trip over itself.
“Hi!” she said breathlessly.
“Hi.” Any other response left his brain as he took in the sight of her. He barely recognized her without her large tote or clipboard armor. She looked carefree and relaxed. Nothing like the Caroline at the office or deep in paperwork on his tiny porch.
“I was wondering if you were going to make it.” She held the door open wider.
“Shhh.” He lifted a finger. “Just let me look.” A light blush played across her cheeks, delighting him further.
Her dark hair, loose and wild, draped her shoulders, a departure from her usual polished look. She wore a billowy set of linen palazzo pants, and her blouse was tied casually at the waist. Blue nail polish, the color of robin eggs, peeked out from beneath the hem of her flowy pants.
She followed his gaze and laughed a little self-consciously.
“That’s quite a shade of blue.”
“Too much?” She wiggled her toes before putting one foot on top of the other to hide the polish.
“For you? Maybe.” He climbed the steps and handed her the bouquet.
“You look…” He trailed off, trying to find the right word. She tilted her head, amused by his struggle.
“I look?”
She looked like she’d stepped out of someone else’s life. Someone who didn’t have binders, plans, and manic precision. It was as if he’d never seen her before. He preferred her like this to the suits and heels.
“Wow, Hollis.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away as he absorbed every nuance of her appearance and committed it to memory. She captivated him from the tip of her head down to her bright blue toenails. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Expecting …?” she tilted her head.
“This,” he gestured broadly in her direction. “Caroline without shoes. I never imagined you walked around in bare feet.”
“Well, now you do,” she smiled. “Are you coming in, Beckett, or just poking about?”
“I’m poking about.”
“Thank you for the flowers.” She lifted them to her nose and inhaled before placing them in a vase by the door. “Don’t get used to a barefoot Caroline. I’m just testing it out.” She fluffed the flowers and looked around. “Where’s Quint?”