The Valentine Box (The Box Books #3)

February 6

Taylor

I spend the next morning at the shop wishing I could talk to Caroline about what happened with Luke last night, but we’re just too busy.

In fact, my generous BFF offers to work the front counter for a couple of hours so the rest of us can focus on order fulfillment. Mom has joined our merry band of bakers, and there’s much talk of “How was your little outing with Luke last night?” and “You owe us the full scoop,” and then Mom asking, “What on earth have I missed?”

And it’s fun and girly to talk and giggle about it as I play coy and refuse to give too much away while we all mix and stir and cut and pour. But inside, I’m brimming with emotions.

“I’m just glad you came to your senses about that boy and decided to have some fun while he’s here,” Geneva says as I’m sliding trays of heart cookies into the big oven. “It doesn’t have to be forever to be worthwhile.”

And I love Geneva, but sometimes I wonder if we’re just not all wired exactly the same, if one person’s fun might be another person’s kryptonite. Because what I felt with Luke last night simply…isn’t something I can easily let go of.

A little while later, just before Caroline leaves for the deli, she pulls me aside to echo Geneva’s sentiment. “I’m so proud of you, girl,” she says. “Just going for it with Luke after all this time. Not worrying about the future. Not worrying about what comes next.”

I’m about to contradict the point when she throws her arms around me in a little hug and says, “See ya later—off to make the sandwiches!” And then she’s gone, out the door, leaving me to wonder why I feel bad inside instead of good, and if there’s just something wrong with me.

After all, Caroline dates multiple guys at once and seems to know exactly how to have fun with it and never get hurt. For a girl who grew up being called horrible things like “chunky monkey” and “wide load Loder,” she’s always completely in control of her life and her romantic relationships.

But then the ding of an oven timer yanks me back into the business of baking.

I’m practically knee-deep in pink frosting twenty minutes later when my phone buzzes with a text. Wiping my hands on my apron, I pull the phone from my pocket and find a text from Luke.

Dropping paperwork at the lawyer’s office up the street from you at noon, so how about lunch? The deli? Won’t keep you long, promise. Breaks are good, remember?

“Is that from him ?” Mom asks. I peek over to see her raising her brows and making googly eyes in my direction. She’s so happy for me. And I haven’t had a chance to explain to her how my stomach churns with that weird mix of thrilling desire and nearly-paralyzing worry.

I nod. “He asked me to lunch at Caroline’s.”

“And you’re going,” Geneva chimes in without missing a beat.

Yet I hesitate. “I feel bad leaving you guys again this soon. I mean, you aren’t going on lunch dates.”

“None of us have a hot guy asking us to,” Kyra points out.

“And you deserve this,” Mom adds with a loving smile. “Go have fun.”

There’s that word again— fun . Everyone keeps saying it, like human connections don’t matter, like you don’t miss someone when they go away, like people don’t form attachments with each other. But rather than say any of that, I just quietly tell them, “Okay.”

Because of course I want to see him. Of course the very notion sets my skin tingling and my heart pounding. So I try to stop thinking and feeling so much and text him back. Okay, noon at Caroline’s.

And when it’s five ’til and I excuse myself from the kitchen, I lecture myself : It’s just fun, that’s all. You’re having fun. Like everyone says.

And…it is fun. It’s fun to be wooed. It’s fun to feel like I have a boyfriend, even though it’s extremely unofficial and temporary. It’s fun to go on an impromptu lunch date. And God knows it’s fun—more than fun—to exchange steamy kisses with the hottest guy I’ve ever known, the same guy I spent years of my life falling asleep dreaming about.

I’ve taken off my apron and am reaching for my parka when a striking periwinkle sweater draws my gaze out the window, across the street in front of the deli. Jasmine is wearing it—and she’s talking to Luke.

My stomach ties itself in a knot as she smiles up at him and…whatever he’s saying to her, he places a hand on her shoulder to deliver it.

It’s dumb that my stomach hurts; it’s silly that I’m flashing back to that night when they sat in one of the booths I now own, hanging all over each other while giving me dirty looks. This is…nothing. A conversation.

Except…what if I’m wrong and it’s something ? I felt like such an idiot that night, both hurt and humiliated in ways I couldn’t even fully understand, and it’s a way I never want to feel again.

But stop it. He’s just talking to her. He’s too nice to ignore her, same as when he told me she texted him. And…he owes me nothing. Certainly he can talk to whoever he wants on the streets of Sweetwater.

That’s when she reaches up to touch his hair. I want to kill her. And—oh. His sandy hair is actually shorter than it was just last night. He’s mentioned wanting to give Stan some barber business, so he must have worked that into his outing just now. I didn’t think it was possible for him to be more handsome, but I was wrong.

I’m relieved when he steps quickly back from her, though, and even more relieved when they part ways a moment later and she proceeds up Main as he steps into Sweet Caroline’s.

Or…am I? I’m glad she’s gone, but why do I still feel so uneasy? Clearly, old insecurities are still flaring.

But it’s not about Jasmine exactly. I mean, I detest her having the nerve to touch his hair, but don’t I know that, realistically, there’s nothing lingering between them?

In my heart, yes.

But there’s something else in my heart, too. Something big.

I’m not sure I ever stopped loving him.

Which means…I think I truly loved him back then.

Sure, I didn’t know him well or spend a lot of time with him—but I fell in love anyway. He was this perfect, unattainable guy. And now I’ve started to know him in a deeper way and…it’s made me fall in love all over again.

My heart is clearly getting wrapped up in him in a dangerous way. Like if I look out the window and see him talking to his old girlfriend and it feels like an arrow piercing my chest—and not the Cupid kind—isn’t that a bad sign?

Despite what everyone thinks I’m supposed to feel, this isn’t just fun. I’m in too deep, just as I feared.

So what am I gonna do now?

Well, in the short term, I guess I’ll cross the street and have lunch with him. So I bolster myself and make my way to the deli, greeting him with a smile.

He’s snagged us a table. And when I wave to Caroline, who’s busy helping another customer, her eyes widen upon realizing a date is taking place before her very eyes—one more person who’s so happy for me without understanding how I really feel.

And I don’t even want to tell her the truth anymore, because I want to be this carefree, happy-go-lucky woman they all want me to be. I wish I were that woman. I’m just not.

Ten minutes later, I sit across from him nibbling on a hot ham and Swiss while he bites into a Reuben. He’s asking how the baking is going and talking about his day, starting to sound pretty overwhelmed himself actually.

“To tell you the truth,” he says, “I’m struggling with how to divide my time. Fortunately, Canyon Life isn’t requiring too much input from me, but between the mountain of tasks for Dad’s estate and trying to make some inroads on the horse sanctuary, I barely know which end is up. The estate business is more pressing, but at the same time, I’m eager to get construction plans in place for the new barn and other structures, plus start getting the word out because we have extra stalls already and could easily take on a few more horses as early as…today.”

“So,” I venture cautiously, “how will all this work? With you in Utah.” And as the question leaves me, I realize it’s the thing I’ve avoided asking—up to now.

And for a fraction of a second, I envision him telling me he’s decided he wants to stay here, that things have changed for him. That connecting with me has changed everything .

But instead he answers, “I’ll be putting together a staff. Finding some good, knowledgeable horse people and an experienced admin person. Then I’ll come back a few times a year to deal with any necessary business and make sure everything’s running smoothly. Plus Mom will be right on the premises, so I can get updates directly from her. I’m thrilled she’ll have something good to focus on now that Dad’s gone.”

“Ah,” I say as my heart sinks. “That sounds like a great plan.”

I’ve been so na?ve. I’ve known all along he wasn’t staying, of course. But maybe I thought the horse park might actually draw him home for keeps. Or…maybe it just didn’t matter as much until I felt us barreling toward a more intimate place last night.

When my phone buzzes, I glance down to see a text from Kyra. We’re watching you through the window.

I look over to see three smiling faces indeed spying on us across the street through a plate-glass storefront. They think they’re being funny. But I’m not amused. My heart is shriveling in my chest. And I need them busy baking, not playing games.

I use the text as an excuse. “Baking emergency,” I announce to Luke.

He looks up from his sandwich, blue eyes wide. “Huh?”

“I have to go.” I get up, grabbing my coat from the back of my chair.

He motions to my ham and cheese, clearly caught off guard. “You haven’t even eaten.”

Coat on now, I snatch up the sandwich in one hand and my fountain drink in the other. “Have to do it on the go. Sorry.”

I dash away before he can even say goodbye.