This afternoon Mattie May had us endure a round of miniature golf down at Putt ’N Stuff. The clouds were heavy, but thankfully, we weren’t doused with powdered sugar falling from the sky. It was freezing, and my fingers turned blue, but somehow I ended up winning. This seemingly athletic streak in me somehow managed to turn Nolan on ten times hotter than those kisses because he kept threatening to take me to a real golf course and put my putting skills to the nine-iron test. But this evening, Mattie suggested that we cross another item off her list—a twofer if you will. The only hint she’s given us is that we’re to dress warm yet look snazzy. I’m guessing snazzy is code for brush your hair, Misty. Nolan, put on a tie.
The three of us congregate at the base of the foyer once again, and I can’t help but feel like a kid at camp. This entire week and a half has flown by with fun and kisses, new experiences and kisses, giant fuzzy bears and lucky strikes on my part, and have I mentioned those mouthwatering, soul-churning kisses?
“You look beautiful.” Nolan doesn’t hesitate with the compliment as his eyes lock over mine. I not only find it amusing that I seem to have garnered the power to put him in a trance whenever we’re around, but a part of me is thriving off his incessant need to have me.
“You look okay yourself.”
It’s true. Nolan looks sharp in a suit and tie, a black trench coat on over that, which only adds to that air of mystery he’s always had about him. His dark hair is slicked back, glossy and dark, and I not only want to run my hands through it, I want to rub my face, my feet, and yes, my boobs through it. That man does hair right, and that alone is enough to vex me. But those smoky bedroom eyes, those honeyed lips, those pecs that I crave to press against just one more time have me spellbound.
Thank God Almighty that Mattie May will be joining us tonight. I haven’t had dinner with Nolan once on this amusement park-esque journey we’ve undertaken. Each night when we get back, I quickly scurry to my room and sequester myself inside, ordering a small meal and having it delivered. Sure, I’ve eaten lunch with him. Heck, the three of us are practically fixtures at Sue Ann’s Café. And Nolan is right, by the way. Breakfast for dinner is definitely something to write home about. But our evening meal, the most sacred and innuendo laced meal of them all is by far something I’ve held off on experiencing with him. Maybe if Mattie May didn’t strictly adhere to her set bedtime of six thirty I would have considered it, but tonight, she’s up past her bedtime, and that is precisely why I’m not only considering it, but pulling the trigger on the idea. This dinner, wherever it may be, has something to do with Mattie May’s bucket list.
Mattie turns to greet me, and her joyful expression quickly sours. “Is that what you’re wearin’?” Her jaw contorts to something this side of disgust as she inspects me in my long down jacket.
“You said to dress warm,” I’m quick to remind her. “But look”—I open the dowdy coat to reveal a white cabled sweater dress that hugs my curves like a NASCAR driver making that track his bitch. I’ve donned ultra-thick white leggings to keep the blood pumping throughout my greatest assets, but my boots are the true pièce de résistance of this snazzy ensemble I managed to whip together in a moment’s notice.
“Well—hello to you, too, honey!” Mattie gives my hip a light tap. “Oh, sweetie, take off that heavy coat. I’ve got just the thing to spruce you up.”
I glance to Nolan while Mattie shouts for Alora and Trinity to bring her Norman.
“Norman?” Nolan’s dimples go off because clearly he’s amused at the shouting spree that my ratty old jacket has sponsored.
“Off with the coat!” Mattie May shouts, doing her best impersonation of the Queen of Hearts.
I’m quick to oblige just as Alora and Trinity amble in carrying an oversized cinnamon-colored fur between them, the inside lined a luscious satin purple.
“Holy wow!” I can’t seem to catch my next breath as I take in the lush, supple, and soft as a baby bear fur. And just like that, I withdraw my hand and shudder. “I can’t wear it.”
Mattie tosses her hands in the air, her face bewildered. “Why the heck not?”
“Because it was living, and now it’s dead. I can’t wear it.”
“Oh, hon”—she waves me off while helping my arms through the sleeves, and I sigh at how warm and decadent it feels both inside and out—“this is about as real as that moose’s head hanging over the fireplace.”
The bed and breakfast has had a stuffed plaid moose head over the fireplace for as long as I can remember. When Nolan and I were together, we made out under it one night while we crossed things off a bucket list of our own—a rather sexually charged bucket list. Nolan and I thought we were doing Hope Falls a favor by christening all of its points of interest with our conjoined bodies. My face heats at the thought. Nolan Knight was a force of nature in the bedroom, and out of it, too. To say my wedding night with Ryan was lackluster in compassion would be likening a day at Disneyland to a day in arctic tundra. Nolan was all a ride on a never-ending roller coaster complete with thrills and chills, and Ryan was more of an undertaking in survival mode.
“Then it’s perfect.” I do a quick twirl, and a spontaneous applause breaks out with Nolan leading the pack.
“You look absolutely stunning.” His eyes widen into mine as if this coat just cast a spell over him.
“Thank you.” I do a little curtsey.
“I second that.” Mattie pats my shoulders down. “And you don’t look so bad yourself, Norman. Glad to see you’ve finally come out of the closet!” She and her nieces share a quick cackle. “Norman was my father’s name, and he gifted this coat to me for my senior high ball all those many centuries ago, so I’ve just always called it Norman.” She gives a wistful smile. “It got me an engagement ring that night. Who knows?” Her blue eyes twinkle with mischief, and suddenly I’m regretful I ever donned Norman. “He might work his magic on you, too! It’s just not right for a girl as pretty as you to be alone. In fact, it’s downright criminal!”
A low-lying growl escapes me because what I’ve secretly feared is that this entire trip is a part of Mattie May’s new matchmaking endeavor—bucket list line item sixty-nine? Set two hearts ablaze with mountainside shenanigans. Little does she know I’m impervious to her devices. A broken heart will do that to you.
“And I second that.” Nolan winks over at me, and I’m right back to scowling at him. “I think Norman and you make quite the grand pair.”
“He is the strong silent type.” I wrap myself up in his wooly comfort as we head out to brave the elements. “He’s tall, dark, and exceedingly handsome. It’s safe to say he has all of the qualities I adore in a man. This might be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”
Nolan tucks his lips close to my ear, and the subtle scent of his spiced cologne electrifies my senses. “I thought you said you stopped believing in the R word,” he smarts.
I’m only quasi-impressed he remembers my words from the bookstore. “If the right man comes along, he might have the power to make me believe whatever he wants.” I snuggle deeper into Norman’s luxurious fur-lined comfort. I might just be in love. Mattie May might actually have a fight on her hands when she tries to extract him from me.
The purple night sky above Hope Falls is clustered full of stars, so low you could hang both a wish and a dream on. The evergreens sparkle with their snow-covered branches, and there is just enough new powder on the ground to assure you that winter is still in full swing.
“Where to?” I trill as my breath plumes out into a white smoky haze.
“Right this way, young lady.” She hooks her arm through mine and does the same to Nolan on the other side while leading us over past the frozen rose garden, past the five-tier fountain filled with piles of fluffy white snow, all the way to the back where we see something just out of a fairytale—and I gasp.
“Mattie!” I cry. Moved by how breathtakingly beautiful the back of the B&B looks, I almost want to cry.
The gazebo is lit
up with the power of thousands of sparkling twinkle lights. Rows and rows of garland weave throughout the top, and strands of lavender wisteria frame the entry. Inside is a table set for three with a white tablecloth, complete with silverware and crystal champagne flutes. Three silver domes sit in place with a waiter in a full tuxedo looking stoically ahead.
Just as she navigates us in that direction, a quartet of violinists start up, and I’m stunned to find four impeccably dressed people, two women, two men, seated just north of the gazebo playing their delicate instruments while staunchly set on reading music.
“Mattie,” Nolan whispers. “This is spectacular.”
“I hoped you’d like it.” She gives both our arms a tug. “I’ve always wanted to sit out and have a nice romantic meal in this very spot. I never understood why more people didn’t take advantage of it this way. Let’s just say after Levi saw it—he’s already added it to the list of things to do at the bed and breakfast. Consider yourselves the first to experience a romantic dinner at Hope Falls’ number one bed and breakfast.”
“Only bed and breakfast,” I’m quick to correct as we enter the Cinderella-inspired gazebo. Nolan pulls out chairs for both Mattie May and me at the very same time.
“Ladies,” he says as we take our seats.
Mattie says a quick blessing over our meals as the waiter removes our domes, revealing a thick cut of New York Prime for Nolan, a perfectly pink salmon for me, and a leg of fried chicken for Mattie May along with mashed potatoes all the country fixings you could ask for.
“Hope you don’t mind the selection. I did that myself. Feel free to share, mix, and match. We’re all family around here, especially the three of us. After what we’ve gone through these last two weeks, I think we’ve got a bond that will last the rest of our lives.”
Nolan and I exchange glances. That might be true, but I’ve felt bonded to Nolan far longer than simply the last couple of weeks.
Mattie instructs the waiter to fill our glasses with bubbling champagne. I can’t help but note it’s a bottle of Cristal, and my heart thumps unnaturally for the golden liquid. I may not be a big drinker, but I know fine champagne, and I’m not one to turn it down. It looks like Norman and I will be doing a little bonding, too, as I get my tipsy on while washing down that expensive bottle.
Mattie raises her glass high to the moon that shines like a silver platter, and Nolan and I do the same. “To friends and lovers and everything in between!”
“To friends and lovers.” Nolan tweaks his brows.
Friends and lovers? How dare he follow Mattie’s twisted lead. If this is all one big ploy to land me in his bed, Nolan Knight has another thing coming, and it won’t be me.
“To sheep and goats!” I offer, raising my glass higher than the rest.
Both Mattie and Nolan inch back as if I just let an offensive odor fly and owned it.
“Yes,” I’m quick to defend my salute to farm animals. “You two covered all of humanity, so I thought I would pay homage to the beasts of the field that give up so much to make us happy.”
Mattie looks genuinely confused, and suddenly I feel as if I’ve stepped in a prairie pie set out by one of the creatures I just voluntarily praised. Somehow I’ve let my anger toward Nolan lead me down this wicked descent of barnyard madness, and now I’ve dragged poor Mattie along for the twisted ride.
I lean in playfully and butt my shoulders against hers. “The sheep represent our friends, and the goats are the lovers we wish to forget.” Not bad for thinking on the fly.
Mattie and I share a laugh just between us girls, and that old goat seated at the other end of the table clears his throat.
I completely made all of that bullshit up for the simple fact I didn’t want to waste an entire flute of Cristal on a toast I didn’t believe in. The friends part was fine. It was the lover half that made me inclined to slosh the pricey contents of my glass at the farm animal I once rutted with freely in his barn.
We start in on dinner. My salmon is impeccably cooked, and even the fact it’s quickly cooling doesn’t take away from the fact this is the best seafood I’ve ever had in my life. Nolan cuts into his steak with the finesse and intensity of a conductor, and when he pops that first piece into his mouth, he closes his eyes, tips his head back, and groans so loud both of my ovaries pop on cue just witnessing the event.
Mattie May scoots her seat back and lets out an ear-piercing whistle. “Well, folks, it’s been amazing, but it’s past my bedtime, and this old sheep needs to get back in her pen.”
Alora and Trinity pop up out of nowhere and escort Mattie May back toward the bed and breakfast before either of us can protest.
“But your dinner!” I cry out after her. “You haven’t even touched it! The music! The champagne!”
Mattie raises a hand as she disappears deeper into the night. “And take tomorrow off. I think I need an entire day just to sleep in. Y’all can share my fried chicken. Enjoy the music, will ya? Nolan, dance with that woman. She’s too pretty to just sit there all night. And Misty drink all the champagne you want. It might even loosen you up a bit.”
I suck in a quick breath at the insult. “She didn’t!”
Nolan leans in with that dreamy look in his annoying eyes. “My goat ears tell me she did.”
“It’s nice to see you’re quick to embrace your cloven hooves.” I down the rest of my champagne per Mattie’s orders and wave the glass at the waiter who is quick to refill it.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a goat to you.” His voice is low and gravelly, and that hot liquor in my belly wholeheartedly approves of this gorgeous man sitting across from me. The moon highlights the ridge of his cheeks and sets his eyes off, green as a fresh cut lawn. Nolan radiates masculinity, exuding it as pronounced as that expensive cologne he’s wearing tonight.
“You’ve been more of an ass, but toasting to a jackass just didn’t seem right given the company and caliber of champagne we’ve been treated to.”
“I’ll take a toast from you no matter what species you decide to frame it with.”
A ripe anger percolates through me. “Why are you so nice to me? I find this completely irritating, by the way. Let me guess. The meaner I am, the more of a challenge I become? I hear boys with big bucks like a good challenge now and again to reassure themselves of their prowess.”
Nolan belts out a laugh. “You are a challenge.” His affect softens. “And I mean that in a good way.”
“Look, I get it. You’ve got a God complex. Nobody ever says no to you, and it makes you want to fight that much harder when they do. But I assure you this thing between you and me—it’s not going anywhere. I’m here strictly for Mattie May. In fact, after her birthday, I need to pack up and move to—” My cheeks pinch with heat. Is this how I’m going to tell him? And what is all that word vomit sailing from my lips tonight? And for God’s sake, sheep and goats will forever be my WTF moment.
“Where are you moving?” His entire body postures closer as if he were suddenly concerned for the safety of his yearly Christmas card. Nolan has sent one every year, and as much as I wish I had taken it from the mailbox to the recycling bin, I opened them all and cherished them just the same.
“None of your business.” Yet.
“Fine.” He takes a sip of his champagne without taking those glowing eyes off mine. “And I don’t believe what you said about this thing between us not meaning anything. You kissed me.”
“I kiss a lot of people now. It’s what I do. Back home they call me the serial kisser. I kiss my banker, my box boy. I even made out with my accountant last spring after he gave me this terrific deal on my taxes. It’s my way of saying thank you.”
“Thank you?” Nolan takes a small bite of his steak, but his lips are still very much trained in a smile. “What were you thanking me for?”
“Let’s see. That first kiss? That was a drunken spell cast by cheap whiskey. I hardly remember a thing. That second kiss—that was a thank you for breaking my fall. I very
much appreciated the fact you stopped us from sledding right off a ledge. That third, and might I mention last kiss? That was a thank you for offering to purchase me an entire slew of new book boyfriends.”
“Book boyfriends.” He nods, amused. Those dimples of his twitch, and my ovaries are right back to popping. “How’s the licking going?”
“Great. I’ve doused the covers with saliva so proficiently it feels as though they’re licking right back.”
“Lovely.” His head ticks to the side as he tries to process this.
The music grows in intensity, and dessert arrives as if the waiter and the quartet are intent on moving things along. I don’t blame them. Norman and I are starting to feel like ditching this shindig for two ourselves.
“Baked Alaska,” the waiter announces before setting both our desserts on fire. Nolan and I start in on a spontaneous applause before the blaze goes out, and we indulge in the icy sweet confection.
“You know”—Nolan reaches over and picks up my hand—“I’d hate to disappoint Mattie, or myself.” He swallows hard, those steely eyes still settled firmly on mine. “May I have this dance?”
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