by Liz Isaacson
Her hand moved as if in slow motion to lightly touch her lips. She seemed as frozen as he felt, and Elliott cursed himself for his forward, assuming behavior.
He ducked his head, using his cowboy hat to conceal his face, and turned to catch his parents. His lips tingled and ached for more contact with hers, but all he could give them was a smile. A hopeful smile that tomorrow he could provide them with what they wanted: a proper kiss with Holland Marsh.
Chapter Four
Somehow, Holland made it through the next hour with the Hawthorne’s, the ghost of Elliott’s lips still skating across hers. He’d barely touched her, and yet it was the most exciting kiss she’d ever experienced.
Why is that? she asked herself as she watched him drive away in his truck with a double-H logo on the driver’s side door. She wasn’t sure, but she hoped she’d find out at dinner the next evening.
She walked to her car, a slight bounce in her step and an inexplicable excitement way down deep in her core. She could barely contain herself when she burst into Cecil’s house. He sat on the couch in the living room, a binder open in front of him. His scheduling binder.
“Elliott Hawthorne kissed me,” she said, pressing her back into the closed front door.
Cecil abandoned his binder and leapt to his feet. “He did what?” he asked, like kissing was a scandalous thing to do. Well, maybe it was when she barely knew the guy. Had only met him twenty-four hours ago. Still, she felt something between them, something for him she’d never felt with anyone before.
“I mean, it was barely a kiss. Really more of a brush of his lips. A whisper, almost.” Still, her fingers drifted to her mouth again, like they could feel his kiss there. “We’re going to dinner tomorrow night.”
She practically skipped around the couch and collapsed onto it, dislodging his binder a little.
“I can’t believe you.”
“What?”
“A kiss before the first date.” He grinned and shook his head. “For Gold Valley, this is the most scandalous thing that’s happened in years.”
Holland laughed. “It was barely a kiss.”
“But he likes you.”
“Apparently.”
“So at least the attraction goes both ways.” Cecil took his spot on the couch again. “All I’ve got is this thrilling binder.” He bent over it again, his mouth curving up a little.
Holland let him get back to work, scheduling produce workers for the next two weeks. She disappeared inside her own mind, but she wasn’t alone. Oh, no. Elliott was there, and he was strong, safe, and sexy.
She’d always wondered if love at first sight existed, and she had the barest of inklings now that it did.
Still, it would be smart to get to know him first.
He’s not Jordan, she told herself. He cared about his parents, for one. He was employed, for two. And he hadn’t dated her sister, for three.
Yeah, Elliott had a lot going for him that Holland liked.
The next day, she worked with four clients, none of them Sean Hawthorne. Holland enjoyed her job; she always had. Seeing the strides people made as they came back from devastating accidents and injuries brought her so much joy. She’d also learned gratitude from her patients. Gratitude for her own health. Gratitude for her good fortune.
Even when Jordan had ripped her heart out and sliced it open, Holland had known she would recover. She just didn’t want it happen in Idaho Falls.
She returned home for a quick shower, realizing as she towel-dried her hair that she had no idea where or when she was meeting Elliott. He didn’t have her personal phone number, and she’d written down his at work. The thought of going back to her office at the home health center—clear across town—didn’t appeal to her. Eating something spicy for dinner certainly did. But not alone. Oh, no. She really wanted to sit across from Elliott and bask in the warmth of his smile, maybe reach across the table and hold his hand as he told her about his job, his family, his life.
She’d shown him where she lived, but they hadn’t made plans for him to pick her up. A quick glance at the clock showed her that it was only six o’clock. He’d requested seven-thirty the previous night, and she told herself to be patient.
Her phone rang, and she automatically flinched toward it. But it wasn’t Elliott.
Mom sat on the screen, and Holland couldn’t let the call go unanswered. “Hey, Mom,” she said.
“Holland.” Her mom sounded good, and relief rushed through Holland. She had good days and bad days since Holland’s father had passed away almost two years ago. Time was said to heal all wounds, but it worked slower on some than others.
“How’s your job going?” her mom asked.
“It’s great,” she said, meaning it. “I just got a new client that reminds me so much of dad.” Her throat closed when she said it, realizing for the first time how much Sean Hawthorne reminded her of her own father.
“Oh, really?”
Holland hated how her mother’s voice brightened. “Yeah, he just had a hip fracture, and I’m in charge of his physical therapy.” She tried not to let her mind go back to her father’s physical therapy and her complete inability to help him.
But her brain did it anyway, calling up the memories that always seemed so fresh, so close to the surface, so loud when they labeled her a failure.
“That’s great, hon,” her mom said, almost silencing the memories. “I’m calling to let you know that Lisa is set to have the baby any day now.”
Emotion clogged Holland’s throat. She wasn’t the only one who’d walked too close to the edge after her father’s death. At least she’d only chosen the wrong man to date. But Lisa had chosen the wrong man and then gotten pregnant. When the wrong guy had bailed, Lisa had been left with a baby bump and a really hard decision.
“What’s she going to do?” Holland asked. The thought of having a niece or a nephew made Holland feel fuzzy and warm, but Lisa hadn’t learned the sex of the baby. She’d been waffling back and forth between keeping the baby and putting it up for adoption. At only twenty-three-years-old, her decision was life-changing.
“She’s not sure,” her mom said with a sigh. “I’m trying not to influence her.”
Her mother wanted Lisa to put the baby up for adoption, give a couple the opportunity to be parents who couldn’t have children of their own. Holland knew her mother was worn out, and while she’d love grandchildren, she didn’t want to be the primary caregiver for the baby.
“I’ll text her,” Holland said. “See how she’s feeling.” Lisa always told Holland more than she told her mother. At least more of the truth. “How’s Brenda?” Holland barely squeezed the name out of her throat.
She hadn’t spoken to Brenda since the day she’d left town. In fact, Brenda and Jordan were the reason Holland had packed everything she owned and traveled four hundred miles to Gold Valley.
She still couldn’t believe Jordan had stuck around for so long, and Holland was starting to wonder if he had an ulterior motive.
Of course he does, she thought as her mom said Brenda was doing just fine. Almost done with her makeup artistry program. She’d started it a year ago, had done Holland’s makeup for her first date with Jordan, but still hadn’t finished. She just couldn’t seem to “find the time” to finish the training and get a job.
But she had time to date Jordan’s brother while Holland dated Jordan. Time to mess around behind Holland’s back. Time to break up with the brother and start dating Jordan—the very next day after Holland had ended things with him.
It was all a tangled mess Holland didn’t want to get caught up in again. Whenever she allowed herself to delve into those months, she ended up feeling insecure and unhappy. She spiraled down into a deep, dark place she didn’t like visiting.
She inhaled and focused on what her mother was saying. She’d moved on from Brenda and was talking about her book club, thankfully. Holland loved her mother and wanted to support her, so she re-engaged in the conversation, pushing
Brenda and Jordan and everything that had brought her to Gold Valley out of her mind.
She was happy to be here, was thriving here, and she didn’t see any sense in looking backward.
Lucy perked up from where she’d settled at Holland’s feet. A single bark echoed throughout her room, and Holland turned toward the doorway. “I gotta go, Mom,” she said, her heart pounding. Thundering. Galloping.
“Who is it, girl?” she asked the dog as Holland stood and ran her fingers through her short hair. Please let it be Elliott.
Lucy wagged her tail as she trotted down the hall and toward the front door. Holland followed somewhat slower, though Gold Valley had to be the safest town on the planet. She peered through the peephole and sure enough, a man wearing a black cowboy hat stood on the front porch, facing the street. Elliott swung back to the door and lifted his hand to knock again, a concerned expression on his face.
Holland whipped the door open, almost getting hit in the face as Elliott moved to knock. “Oh!” She jumped back at the same time Lucy mobbed Elliott.
He chuckled as he made space for the sheep-labradoodle on the front porch and scrubbed behind her ears. “Look at you. What’s your name?” He crouched down and let Lucy lick his ears, dislodging his cowboy hat completely as he laughed.
The sight of him becoming friends with Lucy—who as a rule didn’t like anyone—made Holland like him even more. His sandy blond hair was clipped short and he looked more youthful without the hat. Just as good-looking. Just as sexy.
He straightened and looked at her. “What kind of dog is this?”
“Labradoodle,” Holland managed to say. “Lucy, come on. Leave him alone.” Of course, Lucy ignored her, and Holland ended up pulling the dog back into the house by her collar. “Let me just grab my purse.” She flashed him a stressed smile. “You can come in.”
He stepped into the house, immediately changing the space. Holland would never be able to walk through that door without seeing him framed there, glancing around and nodding appreciatively.
“Where’s Cecil?” he asked.
“He works nights sometimes.” Holland took a deep breath and lifted her purse from the kitchen counter. “Tonight is one of those nights.”
“Sorry for just droppin’ by,” Elliott said. “I never got your number, and we never set plans.” His voice strummed a chord somewhere in her soul, getting louder as he approached her.
She turned to find him only a step behind her. A smile formed on his face, completely knocking down all her defenses.
Don’t kiss him! she screamed at herself. Then she really would have kissed him before the first date.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day,” he said, his fingers flirting with hers, brushing tip to tip and sending sparks all the way through her.
“Oh yeah?” Holland arched toward him, latching onto his fingers completely now that he’d initiated contact. She hadn’t been out of the dating scene for so long that she didn’t know how to flirt.
“Yeah.” Elliott grinned down at her and lifted one hand to the back of her head. His fingers traced the short, shaved hair along the nape of her neck, up and around to her ear. She closed her eyes, her breath shuddering out of her body.
“You’re…I don’t really know what’s goin’ on here,” Elliott said. “I hardly know you, but I really like you.”
“Mm.” Holland liked the sound of his voice in her ears, the tender way his thumb and forefinger caressed her earlobe. If he didn’t kiss her in the next five seconds, Holland thought she’d combust for sure.
“You shave your hair?” he asked, his breath cascading over her cheek and throat.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s so thick, and this way, it lies flat.” She opened her eyes, surprised at how close he was and yet he hadn’t kissed her yet.
She breathed in the spicy, masculine scent of his skin, her hands automatically going up to steal strength from his shoulders. “Are you going to kiss me soon?” she whispered.
He jerked the teensiest bit and pulled back. Their eyes met, fireworks shooting through his. “You want me to?”
“Well, you have to finish what you started last night.” She smiled up at him in what she hoped was an invitational way. “I’ve been thinking about that all day, I’ll have you know.”
“My boss told me I couldn’t kiss you before the date.”
“My cousin said the same thing.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he brought her half a step closer to him. “This is weird, right? How we feel about each other?”
“It’s new for me,” she admitted. “But maybe it’s not weird. Maybe it’s just….” She didn’t know how to finish, so she let her eyes drift halfway closed, hoping he’d erase the distance between them.
He did, and the moment his mouth fully touched hers, Holland knew the right word to complete her sentence.
Different.
New.
Exciting.
But definitely not weird.
Chapter Five
Elliott didn’t care what he’d have to confess to Ty that night when he got back to the ranch. Kissing Holland was at least a hundred times better in real life than what he’d imagined. She kissed him back, her mouth moving quite in sync with his, her fingers in his hair, her body pressed right up against his.
He felt a hunger inside him that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with Holland, so he kissed her until she pulled away. And he still wanted more.
“Should we go eat?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said dumbly, unsure if he could actually form more words than that. His head felt light while his legs felt heavy, but he managed to follow her out the front door. She wore a pair of black shorts that barely reached her mid-thigh and a billowy blouse the color of pink lemonade. He liked the shape of her, the straps on her black sandals, the way she glanced over her shoulder with a sly smile to see if he was following her.
He was. And he had the strangest sensation that he’d go wherever she wanted him to go.
“What do you like?” he asked as she approached his truck. He opened the passenger door for her and put his hand on her waist as she boosted herself into the cab.
He couldn’t believe she let him. Couldn’t believe that in the time it took for him to circle the truck, she’d slid across the seat, barely leaving any room for him.
“You like burgers,” she said. “What about steak?”
“Is there a cowboy alive who doesn’t like steak?” He cut her a glance. “Do you like steak?”
“I’ve eaten it before.”
“So that’s a no.” The chemistry between them crackled, and Elliott wondered if this was the feeling Archer had described. He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he cared. He liked this buzz, the feathery touch of Holland’s hand in his, the scent of oranges and lilacs that streamed from her.
“What about pizza?” he asked.
“What about Italian?” she countered.
He didn’t really care, so he said, “I like Italian,” and steered the truck toward downtown. “So we’ve established you have a bad ex-boyfriend,” he said. “What about your family?”
Holland groaned, and Elliott glanced at her. “Okay, so the family’s off-limits too.” He wanted to know the good, the bad, and the ugly, but he understood it wasn’t easy to talk about.
“My last boyfriend was so serious that I wore a diamond.” She pulled in a breath in tandem with Elliott, who hadn’t expected her to say that.
He had been thinking about her all day—most of last night too. But he hadn’t expected her to be engaged.
“We’d only been together for about six months. It was all wrong. He was wrong for me; I was wrong for him. The engagement was wrong. I knew it; he knew it.”
Elliott didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded and kept driving.
“I broke things off when I found out he was two-timing me with my sister. They’re still together.”
Shock traveled through Elliott l
ike a tidal wave. “Wow.” He swallowed, trying to find the right words to comfort Holland. All he could come up with was, “I see why you left, and why family is off-limits.”
“My mom is great,” she said.
“No dad?”
Her pain radiated through the cab, and Elliott cursed himself for asking so insensitively. “Sorry, Holland. Off-limits means off-limits.”
“He passed away,” she said. “Two years ago. None of us handled it well. I started dating Jordan, and Brenda, the sister he cheated with, dated his brother. And Lisa, my youngest sister is having a baby in a few days. The father is out of the picture. So.” She gave a laugh that was probably meant to be light, but sounded weighed down with a million reasons why she’d left her hometown.
“Where is your family?” he asked.
“Idaho Falls.”
“Are you going to go visit when your sister has the baby?”
She exhaled and pulled out her phone. “No, she’s not even sure she’s going to keep it.” She removed her hand from his, saying, “Sorry, I told my mom I’d text her. After this, I’ll put my phone away.”
“It’s fine,” Elliott said, but he appreciated that she understood the importance of being with people when she was with people. He glanced down at her phone and found a picture of a wedding dress.
Surprise flowed with fear through him. Don’t ask, he told himself. Do not ask right now.
He pressed his lips together and managed to keep the words inside his mouth. She stuffed the phone back into her purse and cuddled into his side. “So tell me about you.”
“Not much to tell, honestly,” he said. “Youngest of four brothers, as I’m sure you gathered from the dozens of family photos at my parents’ house.”
“Yep.”
“Everyone is married except for me. I’m almost thirty, and I’ve been working at Horseshoe Home for a decade now.” He couldn’t believe his life could be boiled down to so few words. He worried he wouldn’t be exciting enough for Holland.