One step at a time, Arlo. Don’t go overboard and fuck this up or make a fool of yourself. Who knows if she wants more than your oysters? Not like you’re God’s gift to women or anything.
But his growing feelings for her made him want to try and overcome his usual barriers. He needed to let go of fear and embrace living like a normal man instead of someone who couldn’t face being around people.
Her voice snapped him out of his mental meandering. “You have to let me connect you with my restaurants. You just have to.”
Arlo put down the fork and folded his arms on the picnic table, staring across at her, his gut churning with her words. He’d never seen anyone quite so excited over his shellfish before, but was he ready to let her into his life? Here was his chance to put it out in the open and see if she was on the same page as him. “Okay, so try and win me over then. Tell me why I should go with you instead of continuing along the way we are?”
She brushed her hair back from her face with a clumsy hand and gave him a wicked smile that settled low in his belly. “I could give you the spiel I give everyone else but I figure since you’re looking after me so well, I’ll be kinder and not slather on the pretty words. Not that they’re lies, no sir. It’s all the truth, but I want to convince you by being perfectly honest and transparent.”
“Okay, that works for me. The table is yours.”
“Well, you may or may not know that I was a chef—am a chef. A good one too, if I say so myself. I want your produce Arlo and I’d do almost anything to get it.” Hilary gave him a shy smile. “But I need to clarify something. It’s not all I want.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’d never in a million years say this to anyone else, but you’re different, Arlo. You’re not like any of the other producers I work with.”
His lips twitched. “Really? Tell me more.”
Hilary blushed under his gaze, and it made him ridiculously happy. “I like you, like you.”
His brain did a mental fist pump. Outwardly, he smiled, trying to maintain calm. “I like you too. But back to your spiel.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right. Where was I? Of course, baring my soul to you about my business skills, which seemed to lack somewhat since my partner basically stole everything from me and I had to start again.”
“That must have been hard.” He could see from the pain that flickered in her eyes how it hurt to mention it.
“Yes, it was. It took me a long time to analyze what I’d done wrong. Why I’d failed. But once I got myself back together, I began doing what I loved and that was talking about food. I started a blog and every time I went out to eat, if it was special enough, I’d blog about it. Social media is my thing and I like to share so it suited me fine. Soon restaurants began to search me out to promote them and then it was people who produced food hoping I could make the connection for them. It was a natural fit for me to recommend food to chefs and it all took off. Before I knew what was happening, I had myself a very productive business.”
“And you like that better than cooking?”
She thought for a moment. “It’s not that I like it better; it’s more that the pressure is gone, you know? Running a restaurant is hard work. I don’t think I was cut out for the stress of organizing the kitchen all all the staff. It took away the love I had for cooking.”
“Understandable. So why should I sign up with you, then? I do well as things are now.”
She stared him directly in the eyes. “You probably do. But I suspect you’re at the mercy of the markets, which means you have good and bad weeks. It makes the idea of expanding somewhat scary because you never know if all the time and effort you put into your product is going to pay off. It’s a huge gamble to take, and I know you’re doing that regardless, no doubt hoping that it will work for you, but there’s no guarantee, is there? What I can offer you is guaranteed sales every single week you send product to market.” She poked the tip her finger into the bowl of salt on the table and dropped a crystal on her tongue. “You’ll never have unsold stock. If anything, you’ll have more orders than you can fill.”
“Why would I have that?”
“Because once people get a taste of these oysters and I blog about them, your world is going to change, Arlo. That I promise you.”
* * *
“I like my world how it is. Thanks anyway.”
Hilary had to sort this out and fast. “Tell me what I said that scared you.”
“You don’t scare me.” He started to retreat.
“Yeah, I did. Was it that your world will change? Help me so we can work together on this one. Please, Arlo. The world deserves to taste these oysters. I can make that happen, but if I don’t know what you want, how can I work on it?”
“I don’t like people. Simple as that.” He gathered the plates and stacked them.
She held her hand out. “Please, sit. Just wait for a moment and let’s talk about this. Most growers are happy to have open to the public days to show off their produce because it brings in customers. It’s a service I offer but only to those that want it. If I promised not to give people directions to your place and never bring anyone here, would you consider my proposal?”
“Maybe.”
Her racing heart started to slow. “If you can get my computer from the car, I’ll run you through what I do. Will you at least let me show you that?”
“Sure.” He strode to her car and she took stock. Her and her big mouth! This was what happened when she got into salesperson mode. It all came dribbling out like a half cranked faucet. In her excitement, she’d totally forgotten Arlo’s aversion to people and almost blown it. He wasn’t going to be the same as every other grower, and Hilary needed to remember that.
One of the ways she whipped up interest in the businesses she promoted was by inviting people out to enjoy food in the setting where it was grown because it showcased the growers’ produce and created a buzz. Buyers had to know every little part of the process, and it made for great social media content too. If Arlo was going to squash that idea, she had to come up with something else to let people get to know him and the farm.
“Here you go.” He slid her laptop in front of her and collected the plates, dropping them down on the ground to give them more room.
“Come sit beside me. I might need your help, because my fingers aren’t really working that well yet. I want to see what I do for other growers.”
Arlo perched himself on the bench seat beside her and lifted the lid on her laptop.
“Thanks.” Hilary powered it up and when it was ready, she clicked the keys with the one finger that poked out of her bandages and brought up her website. “This is where I showcase all of my producers.” She clicked on a grower and let Arlo scroll through the article she’d written. While he read it, she studied his face. Serious eyes focused on her blog post while small twitches of his lips showed he was absorbing what she’d written. The odd smile creased his lips and more than once he tilted his head to focus on something.
The late evening sun shone on his beard, revealing in the dark brown, shades of red that matched the mop of thick hair hanging over his eyes. Darker around his ears where it was cut shorter, it matched the long, almost black eyelashes that hid more than showed her his feelings.
“That’s pretty good.” He turned the computer back to her.
“Thanks. It’s what I like doing.” She took a breath. “Speaking of which, if you like, I can help you with your website. Maybe spruce it up a bit. Bring it into the modern era.” She waved her bandaged hands. “When these are better, obviously.”
His lips twitched. “You don’t like our site?” Arlo tilted his head and smiled at her with such guile that her stomach swooped to her toes. The guy was adorable when he wanted to be. Such a shame a man hadn’t been on her list of things to achieve this year. The business was king, as far as she was concerned. Hilary wondered if she could be convinced to change her mind.
“It’s not that I don’t like it
. It’s just that it could be so much better. Look around you, Arlo. This place is gorgeous and I don’t see a single photo of the island or the shellfish farm on there. A few oysters sitting on a plate doesn’t give anyone the big picture that’s going on behind the scenes and that’s what people want to see.”
He shrugged. “It’s worked so far.”
Hilary wanted to shake him. “But it could be so much better. Tell you what, if you decide to sign with me, I’ll redo your website for free. You won’t get a better offer than that, I promise you. Websites like mine cost thousands, but for you, I’m willing to do it for your signature on a contract.”
“Not because you like me, but for business?” He swiped his tongue around the hairs of his moustache and her gaze followed every movement.
“Oh, I like you, Arlo. Not many men would’ve helped me like you have without strings attached. But this is business, and I never let the lines cross. I’ll do it for you because you could be a great acquisition and my business suceeds if you do. If we choose to get friendlier along the way, so be it. It will never influence our business relationship. I refuse to trade sex for business.” She’d come out and said that? Holy crap, the embarrassment of it all. Sitting so close to Arlo sent all kinds of signals through her body.
She couldn’t tell from the look on his face if she’d blown it or impressed him with her words. Hilary, you should learn when to shut your mouth and roll with things.
“I like your honesty, Hilary, and I appreciate your business ethics. If I thought for one moment you were going to offer to sleep your way into a contract, you’d be out of here without a second glance.”
He smiled and she relaxed. For a moment there, he’d sounded like a stern school teacher. “Will you let me think about it before I commit? I never rush into things and I’d like to discuss it with my father too. He has a better head for business than anyone I know, and I trust his judgement.”
“Of course. I’ll leave you with a contract so you can get someone to look it over too. And if I get the all clear to go home tomorrow, I’ll keep in touch via cell phone. That’s if you’ll answer, of course.”
He gave her a bashful grin. “Now that I know you, I will.” He reached for her hand and held it carefully in his, the gentleness doing nothing to slow her racing heart. “Do you really have to go back?”
Hilary was so tempted to say no but practicalities won out. “Afraid so. I wasn’t expecting to stay this long.”
“More restaurants to visit?” He ran his fingers over her wrist. Surely he could feel her heartbeat thumping through her veins?
“Yes, but none of them will have the incredible meal I had tonight.” Hilary rested her other hand on his thigh, mindful of her healing cuts and the signals she was sending. “I could come back, though, next weekend, if you’ve signed the contract. Spend a couple of days taking photos of the farm and you guys working. Get some decent shots for the website if it all goes ahead. Get to know the real Arlo a bit more—that’s if you want me to. What do you think?”
A smile broke out on his face, the bashfulness all but gone, replaced by the look of a man who knew what he wanted. She hoped she wasn’t biting off more than she could chew or reading him wrong. She’d come for business, but her heart wanted a foot in the door too.
“I’ll call you and let you know.”
Chapter 13
April pulled off her gloves and threw them into the trash. “You’re good to go home tomorrow, Hilary. Just be careful you don’t rub against the scabs and knock them off because it will hurt, as I’m sure you already know. That big one on your back is going to be difficult to manage, so I suggest you keep it covered to stop it from getting caught on your clothing. Keep your hands very clean so you don’t get those cuts infected. Oyster shells are terrible for that as I’ve already said. I’m sorry to keep repeating myself, but I know how easily they can turn nasty. These look good now. Arlo must have been taking good care of you.”
Hilary kept her gaze on her hands and tried to keep the heat from rushing up her cheeks. She failed miserably.
“You don’t have to answer that. He’s a lovely guy. All the members of the Hope family are wonderful, but I’m a bit biased, I guess, considering I’m marrying one of them.”
“He is lovely and very kind too. I never should’ve gone back to the farm after I was warned off the first two times. He was kind enough to save me after I ignored him, so I have to give him credit for that.”
“You’re lucky. Arlo doesn’t take to too many people.”
“Why not?”
April cleared away the cleaning kit and dumped it in the trash while Hilary sat waiting for an answer. It seemed a bit much to ask Arlo, but she was intrigued enough to find out from someone else.
“Not sure if you know, but they lost their mom when they were little. She was pregnant with twins and had a massive hemorrhage. They saved the babies but couldn’t save her. Arlo seems to be the one who suffered the most.”
“That’s sad. I knew there were twins, but Arlo never said much about them.”
“Linc and Forbes. Both away at college doing very well. Hopefully we’ll see them soon.” April turned back to her. “And yes, it was sad, but they’ve all managed quite well despite it. You’ve met Gigi, I hear?”
“Yes. She’s lovely. Very bright and fun to talk to. I met her at Matt’s.”
“She’s Atticus’s sister. She moved here from New York to help him raise the children when it all happened. They’re a tight-knit family and they make all their major decisions together.”
Was this going somewhere? “So, what are you trying to say, April?”
“I thought you wanted to know about the family and I was giving you the salient information. It’s hard to fit in on this island when you’re a stranger. But I like you, Hilary. I like you for Arlo and I want to see him happy.”
“This is really all about business.” She liked him more than that despite the rough start to their friendship, but she wasn’t about to tell anyone who asked until she was sure where it was going.
April laughed. “Okay, if that’s how you want to play it. Now, is Arlo taking you to Matt’s?”
“I guess; I’m not really sure what he has planned. I need to get my car back there though.” She held up her hands and tried to close her fists. “Don’t know how this will work. They feel terrible still.”
April leaned her hip on her desk. “How about this then? I’ll suggest that Arlo gets his dad to drive your car over to Matt’s tonight, and you can stay out at the farm if you want. Arlo can drop you at Matt’s in the morning. Atticus won’t mind, and it will give your hands one more day to heal before you have to go back to Seattle. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
* * *
Arlo stood as the door opened and April ushered Hilary toward him. He dropped the magazine he was reading and stepped forward to take her arm.
“I’m leaving her in your care, Arlo. It’s all looking so much better, but I don’t think Hilary should be driving today. Do you think you can get Atticus to drop her car off to Matt’s for her?”
“Sure. I can do that. Thanks, April.” He nodded to the lady on reception and guided Hilary out of the clinic. When they got to his car, he turned and smiled at her. “Did you want to go to Matt’s now or would you like to come for a ride with me around the island, do some sightseeing before you go home?”
Her eyes lit up. “Seriously? You’d take time off work to give me a tour?”
“Sure. Why not? It’d be nice if you knew more about Hope Island in case we become business associates, don’t you think?” And it would give him more time in her company before they had to say goodbye. That made him stand up straighter.
She rested her hands on her hips, palms up. “If you can spare the time, I’d be a fool to say no, wouldn’t I? I’d love to spend some the day with you, Arlo.”
“I’m the boss and I think I can take a sneaky day off when I feel like it.” He h
eld open the door for her. “In you go, then, and let’s get moving.”
Hilary slid in and Arlo leaned over to help with her seatbelt. She smelled of pine trees and the sea breeze. He paused and met her gaze. His heart raced as she opened her lips and made a small noise. Before he could back out, Arlo touched his lips to hers. Her hand wound around his neck as she reached up to meet him. It was one gentle kiss he wanted to last forever and then he shut the door. With a spring in his step, he strode around to the driver’s side of the car and climbed in. Maybe he would suggest one more night together before she went home. He wanted all the memories he could get to keep him happy until they met again.
He drove up the hill past Matt’s guest house and slowed at a large sprawling home covered in cedar shingles with uninterrupted views of the harbor. “That’s where I grew up.”
“It’s gorgeous, Arlo. I envy you living on the island. So much exploring for kids to do. I grew up in the city, so I’m very envious of your pirate treasure-hunting.” She gazed out over the harbor as he drove along the coast road.
“It had its moments. When I got older, I’d take a fishing rod and get on my bike and pedal for hours to find the perfect quiet spot, which turned out to be my farm. When I found out the owner didn’t mind me being there, I decided it was my place and hung around. The old man who owned it eventually gave me a job helping him on weekends and holidays until I was old enough to leave school, then I went full time. When he wanted to retire, I bought him out.”
“So you’ve never tried your hand at anything else then?”
He shook his head. “Never felt the need to. I love what I do.”
“You’re so lucky you found it so early.”
Was that a sound of sadness in her voice. Arlo sneaked a peek at her. Frown lines pulled at her forehead. “Tell me more about you. What drives Hilary French to do what she does?”
“Even as a small child, cooking was my thing.” Her hands moved as she talked, and Arlo grinned at the contagious enthusiasm for life she had. “I guess that was why I decided to be a chef. Plus I’m an overachiever, which is why I jumped at the chance to have my own restaurant when a school friend’s father dangled it in front of my nose.” She pointed out the window. “Is that a whale?”
Hold Me Now: Hope Harbor Page 8