by Brooks, Abby
“Oh man, is there any coffee left?” Willow’s stomach rumbled again, but if Harry was going to take her out to eat in an hour, then she’d need to conserve her calories. Who knew if there were healthy options on the menu at Good Beginnings?
“Just made a fresh pot.” Juliet gestured to the carafe on the counter. “Help yourself. There’s cream in fridge, all kinds of yummy flavors if you want, and sugar in the jar over there.”
“No, thanks. If I’m going to drink my calories, I’ll do that with wine tonight at dinner.”
Juliet tapped her pen against the table and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Willie. Calories don’t cross state lines. You know that.”
Willow widened her eyes in mock surprise. “For real? You mean this whole time I’ve been worrying about getting down to performance weight and it was all for nothing?” She poured herself a cup of coffee—black, of course—and took a seat next to Juliet.
“You look nice. What are you and Harry doing today?” A sly smile crept over her face. “He’s pretty sweet, isn’t he?”
Willow considered going with a noncommittal shrug and blasé attitude for just over half a second before she bit her lip and dropped her forehead onto the counter. “He’s absolutely amazing,” she said, turning her head and peering at her friend. “I don’t get it.”
“Sounds like you get it just fine.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Willow sat up and cradled her mug in both hands. “I’m so drawn to him. Like, I’ve never felt so comfortable next to a stranger. Like…” She waved a hand, looking for the right way to describe the instant connection between them.
“Like he completes you?”
“Yes! Like I understand myself more because he’s around. Like he’s the answer to questions I didn’t even know I was asking.”
“I don’t have any idea what that’s like,” Juliet said sarcastically, as she gestured at the seating chart for her wedding reception on the table in front of her.
Willow ran a hand through her hair. “I so get how confused you must have been when you first met Ian. Falling for him so fast, knowing it was too fast, but completely unable to make yourself listen to reason. These Moore’s are just so charismatic.”
“They’re definitely charismatic, although maybe, it’s more than that. Maybe you’ve finally met the man who will sweep you off your feet.”
“Maybe he’s my Romeo!” Willow sat back and let her mouth drop open, allowing herself to consider, just for a minute, the possibility that the statement could be true.
That Harry might be a life-altering kind of love…
It almost felt like another sign…
Juliet snorted. “Great. So you’re gonna fall madly in love with him, forsake your family, and then you’ll both be dead by the end of the week. Sounds lovely. Could you please try and stick around long enough for my wedding? You know, since I scheduled it around your needs and all that.”
“Okay, so maybe he’s not my Romeo.” Willow pursed her lips and bumped her shoulder against her friend’s. “Maybe he’s my Ian.”
“I couldn’t ask for anything better for you. I mean, if you find someone who makes you feel the way Ian makes me feel, and he just happens to be Harry, and he steals you away from ACB and you end up here with us…well...I guess I’ll have just won the karmic lottery or something, marrying the man of my dreams and having you living in Bliss, too.”
All the air left Willow’s lungs in one heavy sigh.
Somehow, in all the heart-fluttering, stomach-twisting wonderfulness of meeting Harrison Moore, she forgot she only had a handful of days with him.
No matter how weak in the knees he made her feel, he was temporary.
Before she knew it, she’d be back in the city, spending hours in the studio during the day and hours in the theater at night.
Which basically meant she didn’t have room in her life to fall in love.
Especially not with someone who lived so far away.
Chapter Eleven
Willow
Somehow, knowing she had less than a week with Harry had only made Willow more eager to see him. Instead of putting him out of her head and focusing on Juliet like a good maid of honor, her thoughts expanded to include only Harry. Despite her sobering realization, her heart still yammered away as the minute hand made its tedious climb toward one o’clock.
When the doorbell rang a few minutes before the hour, Willow jumped up from her place at the bar and sprinted toward the door.
“Bye, love!” she called over her shoulder to Juliet.
“Have fun!” Julz singsonged back. “Don’t forget our dinner plans tonight!”
“Double done! Wish me luck!” She still wasn’t exactly sure what she thought she was doing, spending the day with the guy when nothing could happen between them. Nothing real anyway. Not with her life in New York and his life in Bliss.
But, when she pulled open the front door, all her worries about then faded away.
With a man like that standing in front of her, she’d be a fool not to live in the now.
Harry looked amazing. Wearing a pair of slim-fit slacks and a V-neck tee which clung to his trim frame and accentuated his height, he oozed understated elegance.
A smile tugged at his lips, lighting his stunning eyes, and he let out a low whistle. “For a woman who was a sandy, sweaty mess a couple hours ago, you clean up really nice.”
Willow sat back on her heel and pretended to analyze him, enjoying every inch of his body as her eyes slid from his head to his feet. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
And by ‘not half bad’ I mean you look like a fucking model.
He offered her his elbow and she happily threaded her arm into his, all thoughts of New York, The Nutcracker, and whatever else giving way to more important things, like how good he smelled, how hot he looked, and how sweet it was that he offered her his elbow.
Harry led her to a gorgeous vintage convertible of some kind or another—candy apple red with white leather interior, and, from the looks of it, fully restored. Between his personal style, the car, and the fact that they were standing in paradise, the scene felt like something out of a classic movie. The hero, lean, cool, and confident, hands in pockets and eyes on hers.
With her fingers trailing along the gleaming paint, she met his gaze, lifting an appreciative eyebrow. “This is gorgeous.”
“She didn’t come that way.” Harry ran a loving hand across the hood. “Took a lot of work to get her to where she is.”
“Expensive work or time-consuming work?”
“A little of both. Some of the parts were hard to come by, so I had to spend a bit to get them. It’s been a labor of love. You should have seen her when I found her in that barn, rusted all to hell. Her body was shot to shit, but the frame was good and I knew she had soul.”
“You did this yourself?” There was no hiding the admiration in her voice.
“Oh, yeah. All of it. Body work. Rebuilt the engine. Paint job. You name it, I did it.” When Harry glanced up, he found Willow staring and it clearly caught him off guard. He blinked, then cocked his head. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m trying to decide if you’re more full of surprises or talent.” Willow grinned. “Or if it’s because you’re so talented that you keep surprising me.”
“My brothers would say I’m full of bullshit.”
She giggled, trying to make sense of a man who ran his own business and still found time to run on the beach and restore old cars into works of art. A man who managed to make her feel like everything was perfect in her world just by standing near her. A man who had walked over to the passenger side of the car to open the door for her.
“You sure you’re okay with the top down?” Harry asked. “Your hair looks so nice…”
“I’ll fix my hair if I have to. There’s no way I’m turning down the chance to ride in a vintage…” She bit her lip as she lowered herself into the passenger seat. “What kind of car is this?�
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“Sixty-nine Pontiac GTO.” Harry couldn’t hide the pride in his voice.
“Well, there’s no way I’m turning down a chance to ride in a vintage GTO with the top down. What kind of girl would choose hair over a convertible?”
Harry shrugged as he crossed in front of the car. “You’d be surprised.” He folded his long frame into the driver’s seat and brought the engine to life. After giving the dash a little pat, he pulled out of the driveway.
With the sun gleaming overhead, the smell of salt from the ocean glittering to her right, and Harry chattering away beside her—his voice so warm and comforting, it made her feel like she’d come home—Willow relaxed.
Her shoulders dropped away from her ears.
Her breaths deepened.
She hadn’t realized how much tension she’d been holding until it finally evaporated. The change surprised her. What else was she hiding from herself?
Harry turned onto a quaint street with a row of shops and restaurants and found a place to park. A handful of people wandered the sidewalk. Hand-painted signs perched in windows and chalkboard signs sat outside each store. Palm trees bent in the light breeze and the sun hit the street as if to say the universe agreed with whoever gave the town its name.
Harry threw an arm over the back of Willow’s seat. “Welcome to downtown Bliss.”
“It’s so cute.”
“It’s not New York, if that’s what you mean.” He hopped out of the car and closed the door almost reverently. It wasn’t lost on her how well he fit in with his surroundings, classic, calm, and damn near perfect. “Now. What the hell goes into a morning sickness cure basket?”
Willow laughed. “One of my friends really suffered from morning sickness last year and another dancer made her this basket filled with crackers and sour candies and Gatorade and Pedialyte and acupressure wrist bands. All that stuff is supposed to help with the nausea.” She shrugged. “We don’t have to spend the day shopping, if you have something else you’d like to do.”
Harry put his hand on her lower back, and it took every ounce of self-control she had to keep from leaping into his arms and kissing her way down his neck. It’d have been hilarious if it wasn’t such a real possibility.
“Honestly,” he said, clearly oblivious to her struggle, “I think it’s a great idea, especially if it brings Ellie some relief. I’ll lead you to the stores and you pick up what you need.”
As they wandered through the shops, Willow grabbed anything she found that might help Ellie. They talked about their jobs. Their families. They made bad jokes about the stuff they found on the shelves and totally cracked each other up.
“Did you say it was a dancer who had the morning sickness?” Harry asked as they left their fifth store in search of the acupressure wrist bands.
Willow nodded as she tried to get in the frame of mind of a Bliss native. Surely one of the shops would have the bands, she just needed to think hard enough to find where they were hidden.
“That really surprises me. I guess I thought having kids was off limits for ballerinas.”
She put a hand on her rumbling stomach as he led her to the crosswalk. “It’s getting more and more common. Now that we understand diet and nutrition so much better, lots of female dancers are having babies and coming back to work.”
Of course, not all of those who tried it were able to pull it off, but she didn’t feel like going into that.
In fact, she didn’t feel like talking about dancing at all.
She felt like talking about Harry.
They found the wristbands at the last store and Willow turned the focus to him as she paid. “So, explain this to me. How in the world does a guy manage to find the time to go to culinary school, open a business, work out, and still know how to fully restore a car?”
“I’m driven and disciplined.” Harry laughed as he ran a hand up the back of his neck. “Or, obsessive and slightly crazy. Depends on the day and who you’re talking to, I guess.”
“Makes total sense to me. I was lucky to grow up surrounded by other dancers. My obsession looks normal to them.”
Damn it! There she was, right back on the subject of ballet. Didn’t she have any other topics in her arsenal?
After a quick scan of possible subjects of conversation, she found the majority of them tied right back to her job. When had she become so one-dimensional?
Maybe you’ve always been this way, whispered a voice in the back of her mind.
She didn’t like that thought. Surely there was more to her than ballet. She had depth…somewhere…
Her stomach growled again. Loudly.
“Wow.” Harry gestured at the monster hiding in her belly. “Sounds like it’s a good thing our next stop is the café.” He smiled and Willow fought down a surge of panic. If there was one thing she’d learned over the years, it was that cafés rarely had the kind of foods she could eat.
But that’s why you’ve been so good today, she reminded herself. So you could be a little relaxed this afternoon.
When Harry took her hand, the shiver of pleasure at the contact joined forces with the panic over food, churned around in her empty belly, and made her lightheaded. She stumbled, then closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she blinked away the dizzy spell.
Noticing the change, Harry leaned in, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder, his gentle eyes searching her own. “What’s wrong? You okay?”
Willow forced a smile and thought happy thoughts to make the expression look as genuine as possible. “Oh sure,” she said, giving his hand a little squeeze. “That run took more out of me than I thought. Not used to running on sand, I guess.”
“What have you had to eat today?”
And there it was. The question she dreaded most. No one in the normal world understood her dietary habits and the truth was sure to earn her a well-meaning but totally unnecessary lecture. “With The Nutcracker opening soon, I have to get down to performance weight.”
“This morning, you answered a question with a question. Now, you’re answering questions with explanations.” Harry quirked a brow. “One has to wonder if Willow Tamran ever says what she’s really thinking.”
He was joking. No doubt about it. Good humor was written all over his face. And usually, good-natured ribbing was totally Willow’s style, but that last statement landed with a heavy smack of truth she wasn’t ready for.
Grimacing, she prepared herself for his reaction. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet.”
His eyes narrowed. “Nothing at all?”
“I ate more than I should have yesterday.”
“And you’re trying to make up for it today.” He was taking the news with more grace than she expected. Her surprise must have been written all over her face because Harry loosed a gentle laugh. “I was a wrestler in high school. I remember how much it sucked, trying to make weight.”
With a long sigh, Willow bobbed her head. “I’ve never met a normal person who understood.”
“On behalf of all normal people everywhere, I’d like to apologize.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “You’ll have to let me cook for you sometime. That’s the beauty of knowing a chef. I can create delicious meals that meet your dietary restrictions and still manage to fuel that body of yours. I don’t like to think of you going hungry.”
Willow doubted that was true, but loved that he was willing to try. “The list of reasons I’m glad I met you keeps growing.”
“There’s a list?” A devilish grin lit Harry’s face. “Will I get to see it someday?”
With a quirk of her brow and a shrug of her shoulders, Willow turned away. “Maybe.”
His reaction to her admission was so unexpected it almost felt like a trap. One thing was for sure, Harrison Moore was full of surprises and she was eager to unveil them all.
Chapter Twelve
Harry
Considering they were in the last week of November, the wind blowing off the ocean was unseasonably warm. It swirled in the
fabric of Willow’s dress and lifted her hair from her shoulders. Harry wondered what it would be like to touch her like that.
A light caress up one of those lean legs, a whisper of contact at her shoulder, drawing her hair off her neck so he could brush his lips across her skin, lingering at her hairline. His dick twitched with a surge of lust so strong, he had to rely on thoughts of his grandma in a bathing suit to combat his growing erection.
He led Willow to the GTO where she opened her purchases and arranged them in a basket, taking the time to stage each and every item in a particular place that only she seemed to understand. Harry gave a snort of approval when she finished. “I didn’t know a basket full of basics could look so beautiful.”
Willow beamed as she shoved the trash in a bag and stowed it in the front seat. “I hope something in here helps with the morning sickness.”
“She’s gonna love it. Even if none of these things help with the nausea itself, the random act of kindness is sure to make her feel better.” Taking the basket from her, he studied the contents. “I’ll admit, when you asked if I minded running some errands, I thought maybe you had the wrong idea about why I invited you to hang out with me today.”
“Afraid I didn’t realize you’d asked me on a date?” Willow met his eyes with a smile.
“Exactly. I was thinking more along the lines of a walk on the beach that led to dinner and drinks. Maybe a sunset. You know, pretty much tick off everything on the list of perfect ways to woo a woman.”
Despite the wide grin he hoped alerted her to the presence of a joke, her face fell. “I’m sorry if wandering through the shops of Bliss wasn’t what you had in mind.”