Page 50 of Holiday at Home
I am so on board
Good nights with hot chicks are kinda my thing
So this is no big deal for you?
That’s what you’re saying?
There I was, having a magical evening but it’s just an ordinary Tuesday for Simon Holiday, fancy pants extraordinaire
Nothing about you is ordinary, Violet. Nothing.
I bite back a smile so large I nearly fumble the tray of rolls I’m sliding into the display case.
Or maybe there isn’t heartbreak waiting. Maybe I do get to have a happily-ever-after. I mean, it happens for others, why not me?
Sure. Fine. Why not you?whispers a nasty voice in my mind.Just not with Simon Holiday. Not only is he leaving, but he’s very good at saying one thing but doing another.
I shake my head as if I can rattle the anxiety away. Thankfully, the store is busy and keeps my mind occupied, pulling me away from doom-laden thoughts. Every time one comes up, I remind myself that good things happen in this world and I’m just as eligible as everyone else. That I can have fun with Simon, even knowing forever isn’t an option.
The morning rush comes, blessedly busy. Whenever I get a quiet moment, I check my phone. There’s always a message waiting.
Simon
How many customers have you charmed this morning?
Enough to keep the lights on. Why, jealous?
Maybe
Wish I was the one standing across the counter, watching you smile
Feel free to come on down
But like I said before…
I might not let you leave
His reply comes almost instantly.
But then I’d have to do all the things I have planned for you in the office instead of the bedroom
Won’t that break health codes?
My face warms so fast I duck into the kitchen just to regain composure, and one last text comes in.
I’m sorry to keep bothering. I know you’re busy but can’t stop thinking about you and am being very selfish
I hope you’re having a wonderful day
I can’t wait to see you again
In fact, I can’t wait so much that I want you to text me as soon as you run out of product. I’ll help you close because I am taking you out again tonight
I do another happy little shimmy, then head back out to the counter to finish my day.
The moment we sell the last cookie, I text Simon to let him know. Elizabeth helps me clean and prep for tomorrow, and Simon arrives ten minutes later. Our eyes meet and my breath catches, my pulse speeds. A crooked grin lifts my lips.
He’s wearing jeans and a black peacoat, a red scarf wrapped around his neck. His dark hair is tousled and stubble speckles his jaw. And while that apparently breaks the hotness scale for me, it’s the look on his face that does me in.
