“What?”
“That unguarded expression. You’re not so polished now, Holly Stone, and it’s a beautiful look for you.”
This was not happening. He was not seducing her with mere words.
But he was, and he dipped his head so that his jaw nearly brushed hers. His eyes were heavy-lidded, sensual, and she had to fist her hands on the counter behind her to keep them from misbehaving.
It was a hard habit to break, not turning on the charm full force to get whatever she wanted, including a man. But she wasn’t that woman anymore, hadn’t been since the moment she’d pulled into Little Paradise. And no matter how much she wanted him in that moment, she wasn’t going to do it. She wasn’t going to go after any man, not ever again.
She was going to make a success of herself, she was going to make a success of the café. She was going to learn to run it the way it needed to be run, and in the process, if she was beginning to realize she liked cooking, that she liked the peace and quiet here, that she liked seeing people every day, liked pleasing them with her creations-
She went utterly still and backed up that last thought.
Oh, my God.
She was…enjoying herself.
Well, that was allowed, right? She was trying to please her parents, but she could please herself at the same time. And when she was done, she was going to get on with her life.
Any second now.
“I have to go,” she whispered, not moving.
“Have to? Or want to?”
Was there a difference? Yes, oh yes, there was. “There’s a prospective buyer coming this afternoon. I have to show the café.”
He straightened and sent her a smile. “So you can go back home.”
Home? She had no idea where that was. “Yes.”
“Where is that, Holly? You’ve never said.”
To her absolute shock, her throat tightened. Her eyes burned. “I’ll let you know when I figure that out,” she said, and bolted.
She was still holding the condoms.
6
THAT NIGHT Holly looked at those condoms for a very long time. It was no longer the actual condoms she was seeing, but something much, much more.
Always before, wanting a man had been about the conquest. She wanted Riley, and yet it had nothing to do with the conquest. It wasn’t even entirely a physical wanting. It was just a vague, haunting…yearning she couldn’t put to words.
Riley represented everything she’d never allowed herself: stability, security, safety. And it was so far out of her realm to think about them that she opened up the trash and dropped in the condoms.
They lay there, perfectly good, perfectly wasted.
She wouldn’t think about him having to buy more. That was his problem. She shut the lid of the trash and turned her back on them.
She paced for a while, trying to clear her mind.
It worked, too, an idea came to her. Granted, she usually had ideas, but this one was perfect. All she needed was some…help.
At that deflating thought, she sank to her tiny couch in her tinier apartment, stared blankly ahead and laughed at herself.
She’d almost thought there…she’d almost forgotten…that she didn’t have a soul in the world she could turn to for help.
She’d always liked it that way before. She’d been pushing people away her entire life, making sure the only person she could count on was herself.
And now, blithely caught up in the moment and her growing affection for this ridiculous little town, and even more ridiculous little café that wasn’t hers, she figured she’d just suddenly turn to someone, just like that.
She could turn to Riley.
“I have no idea where that thought came from,” she said to the big, fat cat who insisted on climbing onto her lap. “I don’t need help from anyone, especially him.”
Harry began to purr. “It’s his eyes,” she told him. Despite Riley’s easygoing, laid-back nature, he saw too much. She didn’t trust him, or the way he made her feel. “Ugh. You’re heavy, cat.”
“Meow,” he said with reproach.
Guilt actually swamped her. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Harry. You’re heavy, Harry.” Then she laughed at herself for being silly. Harry couldn’t care less what she called him as long as she fed him. “Why are you here, anyway? And you, too,” she said to the dog who lumbered into the room from the bathroom, where he’d been lapping at the toilet water again. “You’re disgusting.”
He blinked, insulted, and she relented. “Okay, I’m sorry. But surely someone else, anyone else, has a bigger pad for you to crash in.”
He licked her hand, walked in a tight circle exactly three times before plopping at her feet with a loud grunt.
Her heart tugged. There was no denying it, it tugged hard. Because the dog had chosen her?
That’s pathetic, she told herself, but she let out a little sigh and leaned back on her couch, totally and completely…content.
It was nice.
Oh man, she’d really lost it if that was the case, if she could feel contented a million miles from nowhere.
Someone knocked at her door, saving her from her own agonizing thoughts. The dog didn’t even lift his head.
“You could at least pretend to protect me,” she told him, and opened the door. “Dora,” she said in surprise to the grocery clerk.
Dora’s hair was even bigger today, if possible. It had to have at least an entire bottle of spray in it to keep it that height. She wore tight leggings and an even tighter crop top-white with neon-green polka dots.
Her bubble gum was purple this evening. “You’re in.”
Holly laughed. “Well…I’m out. Out of my mind, actually. But feel free to leave a message.”
“Is the job still open?” Without waiting for an answer, Dora pushed her way into the apartment, walked into the postage-stamp-size kitchen and opened the plastic container she carried.
A heavenly scent wafted through the room.
“Homemade lasagna. I brought three different kinds-meat, three-cheese and-” she shuddered “-this one is just for you, sweetcakes. Low-fat vegetarian.”
Holly grabbed a fork and took a mouthful of heaven. “You’re hired,” she said before she’d even swallowed.
“I want big bucks.”
“How big?”
“Bigger than what I’m making.”
“That should be easy enough.”
“I want Mondays off, that’s my nail-and-hair day.”
“Which I can see is very important to you,” Holly said, tongue in cheek.
“I want-” Dora broke off and looked at her in surprise. “You mean it? You want to hire me?”
“Absolutely.”
To Holly’s horror, Dora’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, pulling a tissue out of her cleavage and blowing her nose so loudly it woke up the dog. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Then she rushed to the door.
“Wait-” Holly stood there awkwardly. Tears were a complete bafflement to her. Not her own, which she sometimes shed in the deep, dark of the night, then pretended the next day nothing had ever happened, but someone else’s tears. Dora’s.
“Thank you for believing in me,” Dora said softly. “Not many do. I’m not exactly…popular.”
“I thought everyone who was born and raised here was popular. It’s the outsiders who aren’t.”
“I’ve made myself an outsider all my life. I’m pushy, I’m aggressive and I like to gossip. I work at the grocery store because my aunt owns it and it would look bad if she didn’t let me. But I’ve wanted to get my own job for years now, I’ve just never had the skills.”
“You really did cook this lasagna, right?”
Dora blinked in surprise, then laughed through her tears. “Yes. I said I was obnoxious, not a liar. Is the job still mine?”
“Are you going to cry every day?”