by Carrie Elks
“Here you are,” Dolores said, pushing a tray in front of him. “Now I know you said you didn’t want anything to eat, but I know how much you like these danishes. I made them myself this morning.”
“You know me too well,” Josh told Dolores, who beamed widely.
“Enjoy.” She glanced at Holly. “Are you sure you don’t want a top up, sweetheart?”
“I’m good, thank you.” Holly shook her head. As soon as Dolores walked away, Josh took a huge bite of danish, the crumbles falling over the table.
“Hey,” Holly said, dusting off the ledger. “Can you try not to eat like a caveman?”
Josh swallowed his bite with a mouthful of coffee and looked up at her, his warm eyes full of scrutiny. “You definitely remember that night with me.”
“Are we back to this again?” Holly gave a mock sigh. “I’m so sorry your prowess wasn’t enough to break through my psyche. I’m sure I had a really nice time though.”
Josh looked at her through thick eyelashes. “Admit it.” His voice was low. Cajoling.
“Show me what’s in your pocket,” Holly replied, lifting an eyebrow.
“You really want to see?”
Holly nodded. It was weird, but she did. She couldn’t work out what the hell it was, and it was niggling at her.
“And if I show you, you’ll admit you remember that night?”
She tipped her head to the side, as though she was considering it. “If you want me to lie to you.”
“Then I’m not showing you anything.” His eyes were warm. Almost sparkling. “Come to dinner with me tonight instead.”
Holly blinked at his abrupt change in conversation. “What?”
“Let me take you out to dinner. Maybe we can come to some mutual arrangement. A quid-pro-quo.” The way he said it, with a thick, graveled voice, made her feel like he wasn’t talking about her memory or what was in his pocket at all. But something different and altogether dirtier.
And damn if her thighs didn’t clench tight at the thought.
“I’m busy tonight.”
“With the show?” He nodded. “Come afterward.”
“I have to wash my hair.”
He laughed, and it almost took her breath away. It made him look carefree and boyish and so damn attractive that she had to clamp her lips together as to not let out a sigh. “Before I leave this town, you’ll tell me you remember.”
“Why are you so desperate for me to remember a night that happened years ago?” Holly tipped her head to the side, trying to work him out.
“I’m not desperate for you to remember. I know you remember. I just want you to admit it.”
“Why?” she persisted.
“Because I always play to win.” There was an intensity to his voice. It sent a shiver down her spine.
“Is that why you’re here?” she asked him. “Because you think this is a game?”
Josh’s gaze caught hers. He said nothing, surveying her as though she was a mystery he wanted to solve. She felt her cheeks warming at his scrutiny. At the memory of the night she’d known exactly how well his body molded against hers.
She didn’t want to admit that she remembered him. That she still could almost feel the warmth of his skin, the softness of his kisses, the deep rumble in his throat as he brought her to the edge of pain and pleasure.
Because if she admitted it, he’d see the truth in her eyes. That she’d hoped for more than one night. That for a year after he’d left she’d expected him to contact her. He’d left her a note, and she’d kept it folded neatly in her purse until it was clear he wasn’t coming back and she’d set fire to the damn thing
“I stayed because you’re trouble,” he told her. “And I want to make sure this sale goes through without a hitch.”
“So much trouble you think it’s funny we’re holding a protest meeting in the theater you own?”
He was smiling again, and damn if she didn’t want to wipe it right off his face. With her lips. And her tongue.
And maybe her inner thighs.
Ugh. Why did he have to be so attractive?
He finished his danish, washing it down with the remainder of his coffee, his eyes still trained on hers. Her gaze didn’t waver. It felt like some kind of challenge. Watch Josh Gerber eat his breakfast and pretend it didn’t make her think of sex. See a flake of danish cling to his bottom lip and pretend she didn’t want to lick it off him.
Notice the way his throat undulated as he swallowed the last of his coffee and don’t think about how she’d love to kiss her way down his neck, then the dip of his throat, tearing open the buttons of his expensive shirt to expose his beautifully toned body.
“I’ll see you tonight, Holly,” he murmured. It felt like a promise.
“Yes you will.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and his eyes flashed.
And as he walked out of the café she wondered how long she’d keep lying to him.
10
“You can’t hold this meeting.” Uncle Joe crossed his arms over his chest. His face was puce, his eyes looking like tiny white marbles beneath his thick monobrow. “The sale has gone through. It’s over. You will all benefit, eventually. Hell, we could even talk about giving you a little now if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Uncle Noel gave a low grunt, as though he wasn’t on board with that at all.
Holly noticed her mom wasn’t here. She didn’t ask where she was, either. To be honest, she didn’t care.
Not a bit.
“We can do this, and we are doing this.” Everley lifted her chin and stared straight at her father. Uncle Joe’s jaw began to twitch. “Grandma would want us to defend the town. It’s her life’s work. We owe it to her, and so do you.”
“Your grandma didn’t leave enough money to pay a month’s worth of costs to keep this place running. We don’t have a choice, we have to sell.” Uncle Noel was quieter than Joe, but he still looked furious. His eyes were trained on North, who’d pulled himself up to his full six-foot-three height. There was an air of menace to her oldest cousin that made Holly shiver.
No wonder the women of Winterville threw themselves at him. North was the perfect mix of gentleman and thug.
People were starting to arrive at the theater. As they passed, they eyed the Winter family with interest, as though they couldn’t understand why Joe and Noel were looking so furious. So far, they’d managed to at least keep a veneer of family unity when faced with the townsfolk, even if it was completely manufactured. But this confrontation was leaving people in no doubt that the older generation of Winters were completely at odds with Holly and her cousins.
It felt uncomfortable.
Beside her, she could feel Alaska trembling. Holly slid her hand into hers, squeezing it tight. Alaska clung on for dear life.
“We need to go in,” Holly said, watching the crowd pouring into the theater. “We promised we’d start at seven. We don’t want to hold them up.”
“She’s right. There’s snow forecasted tonight.” Gabe nodded. “Let’s go.”
“If you go in there, then that’s it. Don’t ask us for anything. We’re done with you.” Uncle Joe reached for Everley, but North stepped in between them, shielding her.
“They can’t go in. They don’t own the theater. We can stop them.” Uncle Noel sounded almost excited, as though the idea had just occurred to him.
“Technically, you don’t own it either,” Holly pointed out. “And I have permission to use it.” She looked Noel dead in the eye. He cowered back. She wasn’t scared of him. Or Uncle Joe. She ate overconfident rich men for breakfast back in Chicago everyday. She could deal with them here. “Now come on, we have a town to talk to.”
They used the stage door, walking through the familiar hallways that used to be bustling with dancers and singers, while the air would be filled with the echoes of the orchestra tuning up. Halfway through the show, Candy would run in breathlessly, reliably late. The atmosphere would change then, to one of h
ushed reverence. Where Candy went, everybody looked.
And now she was gone. Holly was still holding Alaska’s hand. It had taken everything they had to persuade her to come.
“Everybody’s here,” Everley whispered, peeking out through the curtain. Then a moment later, she let out a long whistle. “Wow.”
“What?” North frowned.
“Josh Gerber is in the auditorium. He’s sitting at the back, behind Dolores and Charlie.” She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. “Now that’s interesting.”
North looked over her shoulder, then stepped back, shaking his head. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“No, don’t,” Holly said quickly. “I told him he could come.”
“What?” Gabe gave Holly a strange look. “Why?”
“Because technically this is his theater, and he gave us permission to use it. We can’t throw him out of his own theater. He could have us arrested or something.”
Gabe and North exchanged glances. “I thought we weren’t going to talk to him.” North exhaled heavily.
“I bumped into him at the café, and he had a flier in his hands. I didn’t seek him out.”
“Wait a minute, I thought they were leaving town.” Gabe pressed his lips together, confused.
“The other two did, but he didn’t go,” Everley said gleefully. “He stayed because he’s got a thing for Holly.”
“He doesn’t.” Holly rolled her eyes at her cousin. “But I think we might have him nervous. He said something about playing to win. Which means he’s considering he could lose.” She wasn’t going to tell them about him also telling her he wanted to win with her. To get her to admit she remembered their night together. As aggravating as Josh Gerber was, he didn’t deserve to be at the end of North’s right hook.
“I don’t like it.” North shook his head. “He’s up to something.”
“That’s why I think Holly should get closer to him,” Everley persisted. “That way we’ll find out exactly what he’s thinking.”
“No.” Holly shook her head. “It’s not worth it.”
“My thoughts exactly.” North gave her an approving smile. The rumble of conversation in the audience was getting louder and more impatient. “We should get out there.”
“How are we going to do this?” Gabe asked. “We haven’t got a fancy presentation.”
“We’re going to do what Candy would do,” Everley said. Of all of them, she was the entertainer. The one who knew how to capture an audience. “We’ll sit on the edge of the stage and make eye contact. We ask them for their ideas. For their help. Let them own it along with us.”
North raised his eyebrows. “That’s actually a great idea.”
“No need to sound so surprised.” Everley elbowed him in the ribs.
“I keep forgetting you’re a grown up now,” North muttered, rubbing his side. “Sorry.”
Everley yanked the curtain open just enough to give them a gap to walk through. North was first, followed by Gabe, and Everley. Holly glanced at Alaska. “You okay?”
“I wish none of this had ever happened.” Alaska’s eyes were shining. “Grandma wouldn’t have wanted us to all be arguing so much.”
“I know she wouldn’t. But she wouldn’t have wanted to have all these people made jobless and homeless either.” Holly nodded at the townspeople. “Let’s go see if there’s something we can all do together.”
Everley smiled at the crowd, giving them a little wave, then sat down on the edge of the stage, her legs dangling above the empty orchestra pit. North did the same, Gabe sitting beside him. Holly nodded for Alaska to sit next to Everley, and took her place at the end.
Then everybody started to applaud. North gave Everley a bewildered look, and she shrugged. “Just go with it,” she whispered.
North started to speak, thanking everybody for coming, and telling them he wanted everybody to have their say. “We don’t have any fancy microphones or audio visual equipment, so we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way and shout.”
Holly looked over the crowd, her mouth dry when her eyes locked with Josh’s. Her stupid, betraying heart started to hammer against her ribcage when she saw how at ease he looked. He was dressed casually, his broad torso clad in what looked like a gray cashmere sweater. His hair was mussed in that ‘some woman just ran her fingers through it’ kind of way.
A half smile tugged at his lips as his eyes took her in, making her skin feel like it was vacationing in Hawaii while she was sitting here in Winterville. Why did he always have to look so good?
And why did her body react to him every single time they were together?
“Holly,” Everley murmured behind Alaska’s shoulder, inclining her head toward North. “He just asked you to introduce yourself.”
North’s brow was raised as he followed the direction of her stare right toward Josh Gerber. Then the two men were staring at each other and there was no heat at all there. Just a cold, icy dislike.
Ugh.
“Um, hi, everybody.” Holly attempted a smile. “I think most of you know me. I’m Holly Winter. I spent most of my childhood here, and like you, I want to keep this town exactly the way that my grandma built it.”
“She won the state math bee three times when she was a kid,” Frank Richards shouted out. From the corner of her eye, she could see Josh grinning.
Please don’t. She offered a prayer up to the heavens, but Frank stood up anyway.
“Hey Holly, what’s fifty-five times seventy-six?”
Her heart dropped. “Four thousand one hundred and eighty.” At least thirty people got their phones out and started tapping into them, no doubt checking her arithmetic. When they looked down at their screens they all let out a little ‘ooh’.
“See? She’s a math genius,” Frank proclaimed. “Always has been.”
Holly glanced pointedly at North. “Maybe we should move this along.”
“Of course we should.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, so let’s get this meeting started. Who has a good idea on how to stop Winterville from getting demolished?”
Josh leaned back on the velvet-covered flip chair, his eyes trained on Holly. She was wearing a pair of jeans so tight she looked like she’d been poured into them, and a bright red sweater that matched her lipstick. Every time she moved, her hair caught the spotlights that were trained on the Winter cousins, illuminating her dark, tumbling waves.
And every few minutes her eyes would catch his and he felt a thrill rush through him.
Fact was, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. Sure, he was technically the enemy here, and everybody was being very careful not to refer to him by name. But it was like watching a movie. As though George Bailey had come to life and was desperately trying to save Bedford Falls before the big bad Mr. Potter turned it into Pottersville.
Which technically made him the asshole, but he’d forget about that small part.
“We should whip up some publicity,” one of the younger people at the front shouted out. “Talk to the newspapers and the TV stations. They love human interest stories at this time of year.”
Everley nodded, her expression serious. “That’s a good idea. But they’d need a hook. What could it be?”
Josh leaned forward, tapping Dolores on the shoulder. “They could put on a show in the theater, like Candy used to. That would get some good write ups.” His voice was low, because there was no way he wanted anybody to hear him. He wanted Dolores to take the idea and run with it.
She blinked. “Yeah, that would be a wonderful idea.”
He nodded at the stage. “You should tell them.”
Excitedly, she put her hand up. North beckoned her toward the stage, because there was no way he could hear her voice from the back. Dolores made her way up the aisle and stopped at the edge of the stage, where she whispered something into Everley’s ear.
Everley blinked, then looked at Josh. He looked away, forming his expression to one of boredom.
&n
bsp; If you’d asked him why he’d suggested it, he’d tell you it’s because he was enjoying watching them fight against him. Sure, he didn’t want bad publicity, but this could be a positive thing. Get some good attention to Winterville.
Anyway, they could get all the publicity they wanted and they still couldn’t stop the redevelopment. This town and everything in it was his. Or it would be once the escrow closed.
And no, it had nothing to do with the way all five of them were excitedly whispering to each other. Nor the way Holly kept looking over at him.
And definitely nothing to do with the way all the blood rushed between his thighs whenever their eyes met.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, crossing his legs to hide the effect she had on him. Everley jumped to her feet, pulling Alaska and Holly with her, while Gabe and North watched on.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Everley called out to the auditorium, her eyes sparkling. “Dolores has had a wonderful idea. We’re going to put on a show!”
11
“It was your idea, wasn’t it?” Holly asked Josh. The meeting was over and the theater was empty, save for Everley and North who were still in the auditorium. Gabe and Alaska had headed back to the Inn, leaving Holly to lock up the front doors.
“What was my idea?” Josh had deliberately hung around until everybody had left. Not because he wanted to listen in but because he was so damn drawn to her it wasn’t funny.
“To put on a show. Dolores said something to Everley about you suggesting it.”
He shrugged. “I think I said something like ‘I hope they don’t put on a show, because it would be one more thing I don’t want to deal with.’” It was amazing how casually the lies slid off his tongue. And how much he enjoyed Holly’s disbelieving stare.
“Why would you suggest it?” she persisted.
He shrugged. “I just told you I didn’t. I said I didn’t want it to happen.”