by Carrie Elks
Instead he was in here, trying to work out with them how things went so wrong.
“Are you sure he was telling you the truth?” Everley asked Holly.
She nodded. “I talked to Dolores after the meeting was over. She’s hardly getting by, has been since visitor numbers went down a few years ago. Charlie Shaw’s making a loss, but he’s riding the wave until retirement. And the spa and bookshop have been looking at closure. They’re kind of relieved that there’s an end in sight.”
“Why didn’t they come to us?” North asked.
“They didn’t want to worry Grandma while she was so ill. And then they didn’t want to make a fuss after she died. And when they finally went to see our parents, they were assured that a plan was in operation to make everything better.” Holly glanced down at North’s beautifully tiled floor. “What they didn’t say was that it involved the businesses getting bulldozed for a ski resort.”
Gabe sighed loudly. He’d joined them after his conference call. “So what do we do next?”
“What can we do?” Everley asked. “It’s over. There’s no legal recourse, and even if there was, we couldn’t make it work financially.”
“We don’t know that for sure.” Gabe glanced at Holly. “You work with some lawyers. Can’t they help with the legal side?”
“They’re divorce lawyers. But I could ask them to look at the contract. Even if they can’t help, they probably have contacts that do.”
“Okay then.” Gabe nodded.
“It’s not even a long shot,” Holly added, because she didn’t want to give them false hope. “Even if we could get out of the contract, it would involve our parents paying Gerber Enterprises back the money. And we all know they won’t do that.”
“We could raise the money,” Everley suggested.
“Not that much money, honey.” North ruffled her hair.
“What if we paid in installments? Or got a loan of some kind?” Gabe asked.
“No bank’s going to give a loan to a failing town.” Holly gave him a soft smile, to take away the sting. “And I can’t see Gerber Enterprises letting us pay in installments.”
“They might if a certain CEO was persuadable,” Everley murmured.
North looked at her with interest. “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you see the way Josh was looking at Holly? And that whole caveman thing of meeting her at the back of the auditorium? He’s got a thing for her. It’s obvious.” Everley folded her arms across her chest. “I bet Holly could persuade him to do anything.”
“Dear God, no.” North shook his head, a grimace pulling at his face. “That’s not happening.”
“Do I get consulted on this?” Holly asked.
“You should listen to him,” Gabe said. “He’s right. Don’t go messing around with this guy, Holly. He’s the enemy. And you’re way too nice, you’ll end up feeling sorry for him.”
“No I won’t.” The last person she felt sorry for was Josh Gerber. What was it he called her? A caped crusader without a cape. Hah. He really was a handsome asshole.
North’s phone started to buzz. He lifted it to his ear, his voice curt as he answered some questions. Ending the call quickly, he glanced over at Gabe. “Amber’s getting overrun at the store. Want to come with and help for a couple of hours?”
“Sure.” Gabe nodded. “Let me just get my boots.”
North turned to Everley and Holly, who were finishing the coffee he’d made them. “I’ll catch you two later. And I meant what I said, no messing around with this stuff. And no getting close to Josh Gerber. We’ll do this thing properly, okay?”
“Sure.” Holly nodded.
Everley waited for him to walk out of the door, and for Gabe to follow him, the two of them climbing onto snowmobiles and heading down toward the Christmas Tree Store.
“You’re going to at least try, aren’t you?” Everley asked, her brows lifting. “Get closer to Josh Gerber and help us find a way to stop him?”
“I can’t think of anything else to do.” Holly felt her skin warm at the thought of confronting Josh again.
Everley grinned. “That’s my girl. And what North doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“We must stop meeting like this.” Josh’s voice was a warm caress. It was just after six the next morning, and Holly was standing outside the Cold Fingers Café. Her breath was turning to vapor in the frosty air.
Josh was wearing a gray woolen coat that skimmed his broad chest. Why was it that he looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ, while she felt like something the cat had dragged in?
“Are you still in town?” Holly asked him, her voice light. “I thought you would have scurried back home already.”
“Why’s that?” He tipped his head to the side.
“I assumed you’d prefer to watch the destruction from afar.” Her eyes were sparkling. “Emotions and misery don’t seem like your thing. I’m guessing you prefer cool, hard dollars.”
She pushed the door open, and the bell rang as warm air rushed over her. The sound of Christmas music echoed from the speakers.
The windows of the café were covered with garland, with tiny fairy lights sparkled among the greenery. A tall Christmas tree was covered with decorations that customers had brought in and added to over the years, and on the far side the owner, Dolores, had lit the fire, so it would be ready for her early morning customers.
But the tables were all empty. She knew Frank would come in soon, but would there be more customers today?
Holly was all too aware that empty tables meant empty cash registers.
“Good morning. What can I get you?” Dolores beamed over the counter at them, not blinking an eyelid as Josh stood only a couple of inches away from Holly.
She could smell the deep notes of his cologne. What was it about the way he smelled? It made her muscles clench in a way that wasn’t right this early in the morning.
“An Americano to go, please?”
Josh interrupted her. “I’ll get this. And she’ll drink it in here.”
Okay, so he didn’t smell that good. She opened her mouth to berate him, then remembered she was supposed to be getting closer to him.
“It’s okay, I’ll pay for my own,” she said, passing a five dollar bill over to Dolores, before stalking to a table by the fire. She sat on a chair with her back to the counter, but that didn’t stop her from hearing Josh’s reply.
“Put the five in the tip jar. I’ve got this.”
She swallowed down her annoyance.
She had no idea why he brought the snark out in her. She wasn’t usually like this.
“I think you remember me.” Josh slid her coffee in front of her, pulling out the chair opposite hers. He sat down, stretching out his long legs so his calves were almost brushing hers.
“What?”
“You definitely remember me from all those years ago. But I’m trying to figure out why you keep pretending you don’t.”
He had something in his right hand. He was turning it over in his palm.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at it, grateful not to be talking about her sketchy memory any more.
He slid his hand into his pocket. “Nothing.”
Yep, he was definitely aggravating. “If it’s nothing, then show me,” Holly said.
He smiled. “No.”
“Then I don’t remember you. At all.”
He smiled as though he was enjoying himself. “Do you still like butterflies?”
She took a sip of her coffee. “What makes you ask?”
“I still think about your butterfly panties sometimes. I regret throwing them in the dumpster. I should have kept them.”
A flush stole over her body, and it had nothing to do with the fire. “Why would you have kept my panties? That’s a freaky thing to do.”
His eyes met hers. “Because they’d be a memento. Of the best night of your life.”
“Of my life?” Her brows lifted. “Are we talking about
the night I don’t remember?”
“You remember.” He sounded so sure.
“Why would I remember? It had to be pretty banal since it’s completely wiped out of my memory.”
He leaned in, his voice sugary and low. “Because I made you come three times. And you begged for more.”
She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. After taking a sip of her coffee, Holly decided on, “Maybe I was faking.”
“Nope.”
“You think you can tell when a woman is faking?” she asked him.
He moved his legs, his calves pressing against hers. “Is this when you go all Harry and Sally on me and fake an orgasm in the café? Because I have to tell you, I’d be up for that.”
She eyed him carefully. “I don’t think you could even induce a fake one right now.”
“I’m wounded.” He touched his chest with his palms.
He was enjoying this. And in a weird way, so was she. It felt good to duel with somebody who knew exactly how to fight back. And if he was the target of all her frustration right now? Well, he deserved it.
And she had a feeling he could take it.
“Why are you so insistent on me remembering that night?” She ran her finger over the rim of her coffee cup. “Have you been jonesing after me for, what, seven or eight years now?”
“Eight. And yes, every night I cry into my pillow and send a plea up to the stars that you’ll finally come looking for me.” He focused his gaze on hers. “I’ve thought about nothing but you for every moment of every day for the past eight years.” The sarcasm in his voice was cutting. She bit down a laugh.
“And now you’re going to destroy my town because it’s the only way to get me out of your head?”
He grinned. “It’s like you’re reading my mind. I’m going to offer this place up as a sacrifice to the gods. Destroy it and along with my memories of you. It’s the only way I can survive. But you’re wrong about one thing. It’s not your town, it’s mine.”
“Tomayto-tomahto.” She tipped her head to the side, taking a sip of the steaming coffee. “You know I’m going to fight you, right?”
“I was pretty sure you would. But it’s futile. I always win.”
“Not always. You didn’t win me.”
“Who says?”
She swallowed hard. “I do.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “You remember me. You know you do.” His voice was soft. “I’m going to get you to admit it.”
“I’ll lie and say I do if you’ll give me my town back.” She lifted a brow.
“Not going to happen. I told you I always win.”
“You won’t win my memories.” She inhaled slowly. She could feel the warm pressure of his calves against hers.
For a moment, her mind was full of that night. His warm lips against hers, the hard weight of his body as they tangled together – underwear on, because somehow that made it better. The warmth of his skin as he touched her again and again, with a teasing pressure that took her to the edge.
“Are you thinking about it now? Because I am.”
“I’m thinking about how pissed you’ll be when you lose everything you have.” She flashed him a smile. “And how much I’m going to enjoy it. I might even take a photo of your face and have it framed.”
“I’d be happy to pose any time. I assume you’ll be putting it right next to your bed.”
“I have enough nightmares already.” She finished the last dregs of her coffee. “But thank you for the offer.”
His eyes dipped to her lips. “You have nightmares?”
She leaned forward, her voice dropping. “Yes, I do.” He leaned in too, as though he was trying to hear her. “I keep getting these images in my brain of some strange guy stealing my panties and climbing into my bed. It’s disconcerting.” She put her cup down and stood, pulling her coat on and sliding her hat over her tumbling curls. “Goodbye, Mr. Gerber. Have a safe trip home. Don’t crash your car or anything.”
He started to laugh. “You definitely remember.”
“It’s a shame you’ll never know. When are you leaving town anyway?”
“Later today.” He paused. “Probably.”
She slid her gloves on. “Well, it’s been a ball.” She turned on her heel, waving goodbye to Dolores before glancing over her shoulder at him one more time.
His eyes were trained on her, that stupid smirk still playing at his lips.
Pulling at the door, she inhaled sharply, glad for the blast of ice cold air that snaked against her skin.
He was leaving today. That was a good thing. She was all big talk and bravado when she told Everley she’d have no problem getting close to him, because this confrontation felt dangerous.
Not because of Josh. But because of herself. She enjoyed it more than she should have. And nobody knew better than she did that it would all end in tears.
8
“What do you mean one of us should stay here?” Kevin’s eyes widened. “I can’t stay. I’ll miss my son’s Christmas Concert. My wife will kill me.”
“I know.” Josh nodded. “You should definitely go home. You can’t miss that.”
“And I need Elizabeth to stand in for me at a meeting. It’s all day tomorrow. I can’t find and brief somebody else in that short of time.”
Josh put his hand on Kevin’s arm. The man looked like he was going to have a tantrum. “It’s okay, I have it covered. I’ll stay. You two can leave.”
Kevin blinked. “You’ll stay?”
“That’s what I said.”
“But…” Kevin frowned, forming a thick monobrow above his disbelieving eyes. “Why would you stay here? You have an empire to run.”
“Because I don’t trust the Winter family to behave while we’re gone. And this deal is too important to have them mess it up now. And anyway, I can still run the business from here. There’s this little thing they invented called the internet. I can still attend meetings and send emails from the living room.”
“But you hate Zoom. That’s why we don’t let people work from home.”
“I also hate losing millions on deals that can easily be saved.” Josh shrugged. “It’s a few days. Maybe a week or two at the most. I can handle it.”
Kevin glanced at the two overnight bags he and Elizabeth had put by the door. “You’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“What about the car? If we take it you’ll be without one.”
Josh glanced out of the glass pane in the front door. “Willa has arranged for a car service to take you back.” A black sedan turned into the driveway at that moment. “Here it is now.” He loved it when a plan came together. “Now go, I have this handled. Enjoy your kid’s concert. And Elizabeth, you did a great job here. I’m impressed.”
She smiled shyly. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure about this?” Kevin asked. “It’s just… weird. And out of character.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Once the pair were out of the door and he’d heard the car pull away, Josh walked over to the table where he’d set up his office, letting out a sigh of relief. He’d asked Willa to extend the rental until Christmas. He was sure he didn’t need all that time, but it was worth extending just in case.
It also gave him enough time to secure the deal and make sure the Winter family wasn’t conspiring against him.
And enough time to figure out why Holly Winter insisted on pretending she couldn’t remember him. It was grating at him, and he had no idea why. It was obvious she remembered him. She’d almost admitted to it at the café, after all.
I keep getting these images in my brain of some strange guy stealing my panties and climbing into my bed. It’s disconcerting.
His lips curled at the memory of her soft, teasing voice and her wide, mock-disbelieving eyes. What was it about her? She did things to him just by opening those pretty lips.
She made him want things he had no business wanting. Things that made
him feel more alive than he’d felt in years. About eight years, to be exact.
He opened his laptop and logged in, thanking the Gods of the World Wide Web that whoever owned this place had a booster installed in every room. Typing in his log in details, he wasn’t surprised when a chat box appeared on his screen.
WILLA MARKS: Are you there, Joshua? Your grandfather keeps calling. Says he can’t get through on your cell phone.
Willa was the only person at work who called him Joshua. It had taken him two years to stop her from calling him Mr. Gerber. He didn’t have the heart to invest any more time in training her to call him Josh.
JOSH GERBER: Reception is patchy here. I’ll call him when I get a chance.
Lies, all lies. He’d blocked his grandfather’s number because he didn’t have the energy to deal with the old man right now. He’d unblock it on the way home. When everything was back to normal, and Winterville was a forgotten project.
WILLA MARKS: Do you want me to check which provider has the best coverage? I can get you switched over in an instant.
His lips twitched at Willa’s suggestion. Busted.
JOSH GERBER: No need. I won’t be here long. If my grandfather calls again, tell him everything is under control.
WILLA MARKS: I already did. He doesn’t believe me. But I’ll try again. In the meantime, I’ve cancelled a few of your face to face meetings, and put the rearranged dates in your calendar. I’ve also changed the ones you asked me to teleconferences. There are a few urgent emails to check in your inbox – I’ve flagged them. And your grandma wants to know what you’re doing for Christmas.
Working, probably. Or sleeping. Maybe both. His family didn’t really celebrate Christmas. Or at least his grandfather didn’t, which meant that nobody else should either.