by Nina Lane
“Polly emailed me a list of French pastries she wants to add to the menu,” Ramona said, flicking one of her dreadlocks over her shoulder. “Kind of a hippie-French thing.”
“She’s going to try a croquembouche next.” Mia scrolled through her phone. “She and Luke are thinking of going to Switzerland over the holidays. He’s going to teach her how to ski. He probably has a villa in the Alps, don’t you think? Has Polly even seen the snow before?”
“I don’t know.”
Probably not. Her little sister had spent her twenty-three years of life either on the commune of Twelve Oaks where they’d lived before their father died, or in Rainsville. Aside from one year at college in San Francisco, this was the first time Polly had ever been anywhere.
Hannah rounded the counter and collected a few cups and dishes left on the tables. She wouldn’t do anything to screw up Polly’s adventure. She couldn’t. If that meant losing a book deal, then so be it. She’d spent enough years being selfish, and it was time to buckle the fuck down and keep her promise.
“Hey, Hannah, do you want to go out for drinks and dancing tonight?” Mia sat at a table with a fresh cup of tea. “A few of the girls and I are thinking of heading up to a blues club in San Jose.”
“Thanks, but I’m…”
Busy? No, she wasn’t. Not a dancer? She actually loved to dance. Too tired? She was going for a run after work to get rid of this excess energy. Not a fan of the blues? Everyone was a fan of the blues.
“I have other plans,” she finished lamely.
Mia shrugged, though a flash of hurt crossed her expression. Hannah put a dirty mug into the bin and went back to the kitchen, deflecting a surge of guilt. Mia and the girls were Polly’s friends, not hers. And Mia was the kind of childhood friend with whom you shared giggles, clothes, and secrets.
Hannah didn’t have or want that kind of girlfriend. Her friends were fellow travelers who sent her emails every now and then with updates on where they were going next and suggested that if she happened to be traveling in the same direction, maybe they could connect. Or not. No big deal, either way.
She set the dishes by the sink and returned to the front. She’d keep her promise, but she didn’t want to get chummy with Mia or any of Polly’s other friends. She didn’t want to give herself any reason to regret leaving Rainsville. Everything here, from the people to the studio apartment above the bakery, belonged to Polly. Hannah was just looking out for everything until her sister returned.
Besides, she needed to devote her spare time to “coming up with something” for her book proposal. Something to accompany fuckable photography.
“Oh, wow.” Mia flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and rested her elbow on the back of the chair, a move that rounded her breasts under the fabric of her well-fitted sweater. “The Slingshots are playing at Club Sphinx on Friday. I really need to find a date.”
She shot a meaningful glance at Gavin Knight, a handsome but stoic man of few words who had, somewhat inadvertently, given Polly the name for the Declairs. While installing the Wild Child security system, the men on Gavin’s team had also developed a penchant for the pastries, and their appreciation had greatly helped spread the word.
Gavin and the Knight Security men still stopped by Wild Child on their breaks, though they spent most of the time working on their sleek laptops or having low-voiced conversations on their phones.
Mia, it was quickly apparent to Hannah, had a schoolgirl crush on the impassive Gavin Knight—a crush probably related to the fact that her flirtatious charms were lost on him. The harder Mia tried to attract Gavin’s attention with her suggestive moves and flippant remarks about dates, the more he ignored her. Hannah didn’t know if he even knew Mia’s name.
“A date,” Mia mused. “I guess I’ll have to call an old boyfriend to go with me.”
Gavin squinted at his computer screen. Mia scowled at him. He didn’t glance her way.
Hannah smiled sympathetically at Mia. She couldn’t help admiring the girl’s boldness, even if it wasn’t getting her what she wanted. Hannah had never flirted with men so overtly. Or at all, really. She’d always been forthright and clear because the fewer unknowns anyone had, the better. She liked unknowns in travel, but not when it came to relationships.
And she couldn’t ignore the fact that Evan Stone was a rather large—not to mention delectably sexy—unknown.
She groaned inwardly as an image of him flashed in her mind—over six feet of pure, hunky male with those crystal blue eyes and devastatingly sexy grin. Just the thought of him heated her from the inside out. What would it be like to strip off his clothes and run her hands over his… and that had to stop. Right now.
Hannah shook her head. She would set things straight on their date tonight. She didn’t need him charming her with talk about love. She didn’t need him intriguing her with his knowledge of untranslatable words or the history of sweet things. And she most certainly didn’t need him distracting her with his hot kisses that made her blood run like thick syrup and pooled so much heat between her legs she ached to writhe against him and—
Cancel the date.
I can’t cancel. That would be rude.
Right. As if breaking up with him before you’ve even gotten together is all kinds of polite.
Oh, be quiet.
It wasn’t even a date, not really. Just dinner or something with an acquaintance. She would tell him where things stood so he would know pursuing her was a fruitless endeavor. With that resolved, Hannah returned to the kitchen to try a recipe she’d found for jasmine rice pudding that might be a good alternative to Wild Child’s sugar-loaded desserts.
She collected the ingredients and got to work. Once she put Evan out of her thoughts, all she had to do was wrestle her way through a new book proposal that she had no clue how to even start. Then she had to get through the next few months without losing her blog and her sole source of income.
As goals went, her stint in Rainsville was turning into her own personal Mount Everest.
Chapter
EIGHT
The blue dress was a draped, open-back jersey dress that Hannah had bought after she’d started making a bit of extra money through her blog. She had never been one for spending money on clothes, but the soft, cornflower-blue dress with the cowl neckline and cloth belt had both fit her to perfection and felt like a dream.
After lacing the ties at the back of her neck, she looked at herself in the mirror. The skirt fell just above her knees, revealing the length of her legs, and the color brought out the blue in her eyes. Though she loved the dress, she hadn’t worn it often—it wasn’t practical for travel, and she didn’t often have the need or desire to get dolled up for a date.
Except for now. Despite her attempt at cool, distant resolve, there was no question Evan had an effect on her that was hard to withstand. And since he’d covered for her costly impulsiveness at the auction, she had to be gracious about going on a date with him.
Gracious also apparently translated to “making an effort.” She brushed her hair until it shone, applied make-up, even spritzed some of Polly’s floral perfume on her wrists.
At five, a knock came at the door, and when she opened it, her heart bumped against her chest at the sight of Evan in dark trousers and a navy blue shirt open at the collar to reveal the strong column of his throat.
“Damn.” His gaze tracked over her, his breath expelling in a rush. “You take my breath away, Sahnehäubchen.”
Hannah smiled. “What does Sahne… whatever mean?”
“Look it up.” He grinned and extended a bouquet of wildflowers.
“Thank you.” She took the flowers, suppressing a shiver as their fingers touched. “Come in, and I’ll put these in water.”
The scent of the blossoms filled her nose as she rummaged in the cupboards for a vase. Somehow he’d known she would appreciate wildflowers—daises, asters, bluebonnets, passionflowers—more than a bouquet of perfect red roses.
“This is a nice place.” Evan glanced around the one-room studio with its shabby-chic furniture and breakfast nook.
“It’s all Polly’s.”
Hannah set the vase of flowers on the windowsill. Her sister’s mark was everywhere—the prints of Paris on the walls, the glossy cookbooks of French pastry-making, the photographs of Polly and their mother. Even though the studio was old and rundown, Polly had turned it into a little haven of warmth. Hannah hadn’t bothered changing anything for her stay here; the only evidence of her presence was her tattered suitcase beside the bed, her laptop, and camera bag.
“I’m sure Polly will move out when she and Luke get back,” she said.
Her sister would likely move into Luke’s house, which she’d told Hannah was some sort of massive, gated mansion on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Evan probably lived in a similar sort of luxury with housekeepers, expensive cars, and elaborate security systems.
“Much as I love the sight of you in that dress, you’d better bring a sweater,” Evan said. “We’re going to be outside.”
“Outside where?”
“You’ll see. It’ll be a good surprise.”
She slipped into a knit cardigan and picked up her bag containing her camera and personal items she brought with her everywhere. They went downstairs to his SUV. She’d expected him to take her to a fancy restaurant in downtown Indigo Bay, but instead he guided the car onto the interstate heading north.
The reddish gold of sunset spilled over the ocean. The rocky cliffs of the coastline gave way to farmlands and low, rolling hills, then they returned to the coast as they drew closer to Santa Cruz. He pulled the SUV into a parking lot across from the beach boardwalk.
“Really?” Hannah looked dubiously at the amusement park where roller coasters and a Ferris wheel rose like constellations above the adjoining beach. “Our date is at the boardwalk?”
“Yes, it is. When was the last time you were here?”
“I can’t even remember.”
“That’s why we’re here. Because it’ll feel like the first time.”
Well. That sounded rather… special.
She couldn’t help being charmed by his boyish anticipation; even his steps got quicker as they crossed the street to the admissions booth. A few wetsuit-clad surfers rode the waves like sharks in the distance, and people who had spent the day on the beach still dotted the sand. The grungy, free-spirited vibe of Santa Cruz with its coffee houses, street performers, hipster restaurants, and microbreweries seemed a part of the air itself.
“Do you come here often?” Hannah asked.
“I haven’t since I was a kid,” Evan said. “My father used to drop me and my brothers off here for the day, partly to keep us occupied but also sometimes as a reward if we’d done all our chores.”
He indicated that she should extend her arm so he could fasten the wristband to her wrist. Again the light brush of his fingers gave her pleasant little shivers. She’d really have to bring out her inner Iron Woman to resist his sex appeal.
They entered the park, which bustled with the start of a Friday night crowd. The scents of fried funnel cakes and popcorn mingled with the sea air.
“You could have warned me that a dress wasn’t exactly practical for roller coasters,” she remarked.
“We’re not going on any roller coasters.” Evan’s gaze slid over her like a touch, full of heat and promise. “And I really wanted to see you in a blue dress.”
“Well,” Hannah huffed, flinging her hair back. “If I catch a cold, it’s your fault.”
“I’ll bring you chicken soup. Come on, let’s go on the train ride.”
Despite the impracticality of wearing a dress to an amusement park, Hannah felt him watching her as she climbed on to the train ahead of him. The fabric stretched over her ass, and though the length was modest enough, it rode up her thighs when she maneuvered in and out of the ride.
Thanks to Evan’s intense attention, Hannah began to enjoy showing off a flash of thigh or drawing his gaze to her bare legs by tugging her skirt down. Aside from being flattered by his obvious interest, it served him right for asking… okay, ordering her to wear a dress without telling her they were going to an amusement park.
They went on the cyclone spinner, the high swings, and the haunted castle ride. Every time Hannah climbed into a car, the brush of cool air under the hem of her dress reminded her of the thong she wore underneath. Yet the heat generated by Evan’s attention was more than enough to keep her warm.
Rather… dramatically warm. Every time he touched her, whether accidentally or to help her off a ride, her body surged with desire. Sparks traveled through her from the point of contact, and more than once she resisted the urge to move closer to him, maybe tuck herself against his side and feel the weight of his strong arm settle over her shoulders as he pressed his lips to her temple…
She was no fool. This was getting dangerous. For all her talk about setting things straight and keeping her distance, being with Evan was almost irresistibly easy and good, like putting on pajamas warm from the dryer or indulging in a long stretch.
Smoldering looks aside, she just liked being with him. She liked the movement of his muscular body beside hers, the brush of his hand against hers as they walked. And despite her snarking a little about the dress, she liked that he’d taken her to the boardwalk rather than somewhere fancy like the theater.
As they started toward the historic carousel, he paused by a cotton-candy stand where the vendor was swirling a fresh thatch of candy onto a paper cone.
Hannah made a face. “That’s like eating sugar right out of the bag.”
“Exactly.” Evan dug into his pocket and handed the vendor a few bills.
Though it was fun to watch the threads of sugar spin into a fluffy cloud, she let Evan take the lion’s share. For his sake, she pulled a piece off and ate it. The sticky sweetness clung unpleasantly to the inside of her mouth.
“Machine-spun cotton candy was invented by a dentist in the late nineteenth century.” Evan pulled off another piece.
“Hah. No wonder, if he knew what it would do to people’s teeth.”
He ate more of the candy, drawing Hannah’s gaze unwillingly to his mouth. Only he could make her want to kiss the sticky strands right off his lips. She wanted to press her hands to his jaw and guide his mouth down to hers, to feel his large, warm hand on her back beneath her sweater. Lord, she so desperately wanted to slide her body right up against his and—
“Hey, check it out.” Evan extended the cone. “Shaped like a heart.”
Hannah jerked out of her wayward thoughts. She looked at the mass of cotton candy, amused to see that he was right. In pulling off bits of sugar, the fluff had formed a heart.
“Hold it up.” She took her camera out of her bag and lifted it to her eye. She adjusted the lens and took several pictures of the cotton candy, both with Evan in the frame and close up.
“It’s also called sugar glass and fairy floss,” Evan said. “Sugar Rush cotton candy has different flavor combinations, like strawberry and orange. Want some more?”
He waggled the cone in front of her. Hannah shook her head.
“You don’t find it too sweet?” she asked.
“Sure, but cotton candy tastes like summer to me.” He polished off the candy and tossed the cone into a nearby garbage bin. “And sometimes excess is a good thing. After all, if you hadn’t bid fifty thousand dollars for me, we might not be here now.”
A flicker lit in the center of Hannah’s heart. “What other excessive things do you like?”
“Owning too many books and not enough shelves. Swimming so long in the ocean you’re pruney and shivering when you get out, then taking a long hot shower that feels like paradise. Gigantic ice cream sundaes. All-night sex marathons.”
Hannah snorted, even as her blood heated at the thought of an all-night sex marathon with Evan.
“All night?” she repeated. “That’s such a guy lie.”
; “Is that a challenge?” Evan shot her a look simmering with repressed heat.
“You wish.”
“Indeed I do, Sahnehäubchen.”
Truthfully, so did she.
So much for keeping her distance. She couldn’t stay away from the man with whom she’d shared her first perfect kiss ever. A man she also liked a lot. A man who found hearts in cotton candy.
A Heartbreaker.
An unwelcome image of Lucy Clements appeared in Hannah’s mind. She pushed it ruthlessly aside. Bitter ex-girlfriends were very unreliable sources of information, not that she wanted information about Evan that she hadn’t divined herself. And though it was easy enough to dismiss Lucy, Hannah couldn’t quite forget the other woman’s comment that Evan was incapable of love. “And that’s the biggest fucking irony of all.”
It made no sense. Why would that be ironic? And of course it was silly to think Evan was incapable of love. A man who knew how to give a perfect kiss couldn’t possibly be incapable of love. Maybe he was wary after a bad breakup, but he seemed like the kind of man who would love the right woman deeply and loyally and—
Well. She didn’t need to be thinking about all the ways in which Evan would love a woman.
She excused herself to use the restroom, taking the time to collect her wayward thoughts. If there was anything she hadn’t expected to find during her stint in Rainsville, it was a man. Especially a man like Evan, who was already smoothing over all her bad memories about Rainsville. He could probably even make her not dislike it here.
After washing her hands, she returned to where she’d left him near the cotton-candy stand. She first saw him, her gaze going like a magnet to his broad back and the glow of lights against his thick hair. He looked as if he were speaking to someone, but only when he moved to sit on a nearby bench did Hannah see the young boy, his body supported by a wheeled walker.
Evan lowered his head to be eye-level with the boy and continued talking as the boy both listened and responded animatedly. The man and woman with the boy, probably his parents, were smiling at both of them.