Only for You

by Barb Curtis

  “Right.” She sighed, releasing her fingers from the complicated twist she’d woven them into. “I’m not sure I could do it.”

  He wasn’t, either. Not after the connection they’d shared. If Emily’s Mr. Right suddenly walked into the picture, would he be willing to step aside? Would it bother him to go back to being her friend and seeing her with other guys?

  Damn straight, which was why this was different, and the farthest thing from what he’d set out to accomplish when he sprang the fake relationship on her. “Let’s just not rush to figure it out. It’s all pretty new right now, so why don’t we enjoy it a while without the pressure of labels?”

  His phone vibrated. Rob.

  Looks like you had an audience during your Valentine’s date last night.

  Tim’s pulse quickened, waiting for his Facebook feed to refresh.

  Emily surfaced at his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  The gossip columnist he hadn’t bothered to call back had posted a shot of him and Emily through the window at the Nightingale. Emily’s expression radiated disappointment, and the caption read “Trouble in Paradise?”

  “Son of a bitch,” Tim muttered, closing the app and sliding his phone to the other end of the counter. He couldn’t be bothered reading the comments.

  To his surprise, Emily snorted, biting back a laugh.

  He searched her face. “Why are you laughing? Does it not piss you off that we can’t go anywhere without being watched?”

  “It’s just kind of funny, when you think about it.” She helped herself to some strawberries that he’d washed and placed in a bowl. “If the photo had been taken thirty seconds later, it would have captured us laughing because you’d pretended to order for me.”

  She had a point.

  “And the caption, trouble in paradise? Please. A few hours later we were naked, rolling around my bed. You’ve gotta admit, the whole thing is a little entertaining at times.”

  Tim’s lips twisted into a smile. Emily’s positive spin on things was the most refreshing thing in the world right now. He couldn’t imagine putting up with all of this drama if he didn’t have her by his side for moral support.

  He divvied up the omelet onto their plates and carried them to the island. “You’re sure all of this isn’t getting to you?”

  She settled onto the stool and turned to face him. “It’s unnerving at times, when we’re being followed or when people get nasty, but I think we’ve been doing an alright job not letting the drama take us over.” Her sapphire eyes glinted. “We seem to be making the best of it.”

  Tim leaned toward her and cupped her cheek in his hand. He traced his thumb across her smooth bottom lip and kept his gaze fixed on hers. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  She tried to downplay his comment, shrugging, but a rosy hue bloomed in her cheeks.

  Grinning, he gave her shoulder a little nudge. “I mean it, you’re like the best girlfriend ever. Where have you been all my life?”

  She pulled her lips inward, stifling a smile, before focusing on her food. “Right here, Fraser. Right here.”

  The thing with dating Tim was that they were already accustomed to spending a lot of time together, so she could invite him over as much as she wanted and it didn’t seem weird. In the week since Valentine’s Day, they’d shared practically every dinner together and slept at either his place or hers. Normally by this point in the winter, cabin fever would begin to set in, but this year she actually embraced the season.

  She and Tim had gone snowshoeing two more times since the day they went to his cabin, and they had a date planned to go skating at the outdoor rink in town square this weekend.

  Today, though, she had some catching up to do. Boxes still cluttered the floor of the spare bedroom, where she’d shoved them to get them out of the way. She needed to finish unpacking so she could get back to some type of normalcy. She’d been in the apartment almost a month, and she had yet to come across her blender.

  Not that she was complaining. The time with Tim made her heart happy. He made her laugh a ridiculous number of times during the day—even when they weren’t together. Midway through the morning he’d text her to say something like, Have you seen Fuzzy yet today? He’s wearing skinny jeans, to which she’d burst out laughing, alone in Tesoro’s kitchen. Or he’d show up as she was locking up for the day and surprise her with dinner plans. He always had the best ideas, and they were effortless.

  She was very careful not to crowd him, though. She let him set the pace and simply went along with it. And even still, it really seemed as though he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him.

  Because she was afraid to get used to it, she’d remind herself every now and then that it might be too good to be true. He really hadn’t been single very long, which normally would be a red flag. But then Tim would send a message or stop by, and one look at him would have her heart rate climbing again.

  Even the fact that women still showed up at Great Wide Open and he was still constantly getting swarmed with messages didn’t faze her. He wasn’t the least bit interested in any of them, and his coping technique had become the Block button. She used the same tactic on the random messages she still received that urged her to let him go.

  A knock at the door had her lowering her music. “It’s open.”

  Tim peered around the kitchen door. “Hey, how’s the unpacking going?”

  Case in point. He couldn’t be bothered with the God knew how many women sending him selfies. Instead he checked in to see how she was getting settled. If she could just rid him of his commitment hang-ups, he’d basically be the perfect guy. She inched up on her toes to give him a peck on the lips. “It’s going. I only have four boxes left. I didn’t expect you until later.” Her whole body warmed when a smile teased his lips.

  “I know, I said afternoon, but I just wanted to see you.” His gaze fell on her lips, then back to her eyes. “Come to Jolt with me for lunch.”

  She glanced down at her gray tank top and leggings. “I’m not ready. I’m going to have to change my clothes.”

  “Why? You look perfect.”

  She slunk away to the bedroom, pleased when he traipsed behind. “Tim Fraser, are you following me?”

  A grin played on his lips. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t help you out of those clothes, now would I?”

  By the time they made it to the coffee house it was two o’clock and the lunch crowd had mostly cleared out. They both ordered the soup and sandwich special and then snagged a table to bask in the afternoon sun filtering in through the big windows along Queen Street.

  Emily wiggled out of her coat and draped it on the back of her chair. “That sun feels amazing.”

  Steam curled out of Tim’s bowl as he stirred his beef barley soup. “You can see a difference in the daylight too. Spring is coming.”

  “Hallelujah for that.” Fuzzy appeared out of nowhere and pulled up a chair with a loud clatter. “And I just heard from a reliable source that the sap will be running within a week. Guess who is invited to an old-school sugar shack shindig?”

  He pointed both index fingers at them. “That’s right, my trusty festival co-chairs. Springs Syrup is the biggest maple syrup producer in the area. They have daily events open to the public. It’s quite the affair. The owners have agreed to do a little episode for the web channel to air the night before the festival kicks off. Lars is on board to accompany the two of you for a day of demos. You can be the webisode hosts. Isn’t that a super fun idea?” He clasped his hands together.

  Emily opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  Tim scrunched his forehead and peered at her. “I don’t recall agreeing to host any webisode when we took on this co-chairing thing, do you?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t take a day off work to tap trees, Fuzz.” Though it would be nice, if it meant a day with Tim.

  “Oh, come on, you two. Springs Syrup is one of the top spots on the festi
val’s maple producer tours. You won’t believe the ideas a day with them will give you for the festival. How busy can either of you really be this time of year? Where’s your community spirit?”

  “Why does it have to be us?” Tim paused to take a drink of water. “Can’t we send somebody else from the committee?”

  Fuzzy rolled his gaze toward the window. “You could, I suppose, if you want. I just thought it’d be a nice outing for a new couple. I was imagining the webisode having a travel and food show kind of vibe—exploring the whole maple syrup culture,” he added, fanning his hands. “The whole thing will be totally unscripted, of course—completely spontaneous. Don’t worry about dumb questions; they can be edited out. Oh, and they have darling little cabins for overnighters, too, if you’re so inclined.”

  Now, the cabins sounded enticing. Emily bit her lip to try to conceal a smile. “It might actually be kind of fun.”

  Tim caressed her hand. “Even with Lars and his episode? Am I the only one who feels like we’re being pimped out a little here?”

  Fuzzy waved his hand. “Lars will be behind the scenes. It’ll be more about your conversations with the syrup producers and the visuals. Honestly, you won’t even know he’s there.” He winked at Emily and stood. “Work your magic on this beast and get back to me.”

  When Fuzzy was out of earshot, Tim leaned across the table, head close to hers. “What do you think of his idea?”

  She finished off the last bite of her sandwich. “I think we could make the best of it. It’s only one day, and like he said, it might help spark some ideas for the festival. I mean, you like that tapping stuff anyway, right?”

  He grinned and gazed down into his soup. “I do like that tapping stuff. And you’ll be there, so points for that.” He shrugged and leaned back into his chair. “I don’t love the idea of having a camera follow us around, but I guess it could be fun once I get past that.”

  She hadn’t really considered that having a camera follow them around might dredge up bad vibes for Tim. It was understandable that he’d be hesitant. “We can think on it a couple of days before we give him an answer.” When Emily’s phone chimed, she dug deep into her purse. “It’s Mom,” she said, pressing a button. “Brunch is canceled this week, but she says to invite you to join us next week.” That was strange. They hardly ever canceled brunch.

  Tim sat up a little straighter. “Brunch with the ladies, huh? You think they want to grill me?”

  Emily toyed with her earring. “I’m not sure. They’ve never asked me to invite a date to brunch before.” And she’d dated guys a hell of a lot longer than Tim. They were probably just being nosy. “What do you say?”

  He balled his napkin up and tossed it into his empty bowl. “I’d love to come to brunch. Just come to my rescue if they gang up on me or something. Don’t let them be too hard on me.”

  “You can handle them.” She texted her mom back to say Tim accepted the invitation. Then she sent another text asking why this week was canceled. She looked up at Tim. “We’re still waiting on Nana’s test results.”

  “It’s been some time.”

  “Over a month.” She stared ahead, pinching her bottom lip.

  Tim slid his chair closer, took her hands, and brought them to his lips. “You’re more worried about those tests than you’re letting on most of the time.”

  She nodded before meeting his gaze. “I am. I call Mom or Nana every couple of days to check if the results came back yet. Nana doesn’t want us making a big deal about it though, so I’m trying my best not to. I just don’t understand why it’s taking so long.”

  “Maybe they’re just backed up at the lab. It could be anything.”

  When her mother didn’t reply within a couple of minutes, Emily put her phone away. There could be any number of reasons they had to cancel this week. Maybe her mom had inventory at the boutique or something. She’d call later and check in.

  “Whatever happens, Em, I’m here, okay?” Tim put an arm around her as they left the café and started down the street, and she pushed it out of her mind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emily and Harlow worked shoulder to shoulder bagging macarons for a fifteen-year-old girl’s birthday party over the weekend.

  “I never had anything this elegant for my fifteenth birthday,” Harlow commented, curling pink ribbon with a pair of scissors.

  “Me neither. In fact, I hadn’t even heard of macarons when I was fifteen.” Emily remembered her fifteenth birthday well, though. Nana had made a red velvet cake with fluffy white frosting. Her mom had lit a sparkler on top, and the three of them gorged on cake until they were almost sick. Calories don’t count on your birthday, Emmy, Nana had joked.

  Emily filled the last cellophane bag and passed it to Harlow to tie up. Then she reached under the counter for a box the bag would fit in. The birthday girl’s mother would be arriving soon to pick up the order.

  Tim rushed past the front windows and tapped on the front door.

  Emily hurried over and unlocked it. “Hey, what’s—”

  “The sap is running. They want to shoot the webisode today. Ready for some maple magic?”

  They’d known it would be short notice, but the maple syrup webisode was the farthest thing from Emily’s mind this morning when she’d planned her to-do list for the day. She glanced at Harlow, then back at Tim. “I can’t…I mean…I’ve got a pickup in like twenty minutes.”

  “Go.” Harlow slid the bag onto the bottom shelf of the fridge. “I can handle the joint for the day. Get schooled on syrup.”

  Tim offered Harlow an appreciative smile. “Fuzzy already sent Lars over to the sugar shack to set up. Apparently they’re going all out for this webisode. They’re feeding us lunch and dinner, and they’ve hired a band to entertain while they boil the sap.” His eyes traveled slowly down the length of her, and he licked his lips, staring at her sexy black suede boots. “You’ll need to change into something else. Unfortunately.”

  Lifting her apron over her head, she turned to Harlow. “Are you sure you’re okay here for the day?” She’d briefed Harlow on the possibility of having to take off a day this week, but she had expected a tiny bit more notice than this.

  Harlow came around the counter and took Emily’s apron from her. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine. Go, have fun tree tapping or whatever. And try not to hurt yourself.”

  “I need a couple of minutes to tidy up the kitchen.” She hurried out back to wipe down the counters and put away the remainder of the inventory order that had arrived earlier, leaving Tim to chat with Harlow.

  Satisfied with the way she was leaving things, she grabbed her coat.

  As they exited Tesoro, Emily told Tim she needed to go upstairs and change into something outdoorsy.

  He draped an arm around her shoulders and steered her down the street. “Pack an overnight bag. I was able to snag us one of those cabins Fuzzy mentioned, so we’ll be spending the night.”

  Emily halted. “What? Wait, what about work tomorrow?”

  “We’ll head back right after breakfast. I already ran it by Harlow, and she’s more than happy to cover. And I’ve got our snowshoes in the back of the truck in case we want to take a little trek through the woods while we’re out there. It’s going to be an awesome getaway.” He paused, midstride. “I mean, if you’re all right with it.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Of course I’m all right with it. You’ve thought of everything.” And it struck her as adorably romantic.

  When they reached the shoe factory’s tenant entrance, Tim planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going up to pack a bag. Meet me out back when you’re ready. I’ll be in the truck warming it up.” He continued upstairs, but then turned back around. “Dress in layers. It’s supposed to get fairly mild today, so you might end up wanting to take your coat off if you get too warm. And it might get muddy. Maybe wear rubber boots with thick socks.”

  She burst out laughing and waved him off. He was always looking out for her.


  It wouldn’t take her long to get ready for the day. She’d done her research and already planned what she’d wear since the day Fuzzy brought the idea up to them. She was, after all, going to be on TV. Or the internet, or something.

  Prepping for her first overnight date with Tim might take a little longer, though.

  In the end, she’d probably packed way too much stuff, but she wanted to cover all the bases.

  They made a pit stop for gas and hit the road. Tim drove along the winding country road until they reached the sprawling farm.

  From their introduction to Bill and Connie, the owners of Springs Syrup, the camera was rolling.

  “We’re going to give you a tour, feed you lunch, and then make you spend all afternoon working it off,” Bill joked, earning a chuckle from a few of the other participants. “At the end of the day you’ll kick back with a hearty meal, a few pints of local craft beer, and an old-fashioned barn party.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get started.”

  Tim gave Emily’s hand a squeeze. The adventure began with a tour of the sugar bush, through the many trails on the property, where Bill pointed out the different types of maple trees and explained how to determine which ones were sugar maples. Tim prompted him with most of the questions.

  They used two systems for extracting sap from the trees—the traditional method, with metal spiles and buckets, and a modern tubing system that reminded Emily of clotheslines strung between the trees. It used vacuum technology and a Wi-Fi tracking system, which, Connie explained, extracted five times the sap from the trees as the traditional method.

  “It takes forty gallons of sap to produce one gallon of syrup, so needless to say,” Bill said, placing an arm around Connie’s waist, “we mainly rely on the modern technique for production and keep the traditional setup for events like today.”

  With the help of two volunteer assistants from the festival committee, Lars took shots of Tim and Emily being shown how to drill holes into the trees and hammer in the spiles. He got footage of the tap-tap-tap as the buckets filled with sap—a quicker process than Emily had envisioned, which Bill explained was due to such mild daytime temperatures.