Chapter 8
EIGHT
OLIVER
The wind had died down at some point, and the fire had turned to embers, leaving the room dancing an eerily peaceful dance. I was possibly the warmest and most comfortable I had ever been, lying on the floor, wrapped up in my snow monster.
No, God! He was not my anything, not even after the hours we had spent on that floor after he’d brought me to heights I would never have imagined one could reach from just the touch of another man’s hand.
When he asked, “Is this okay,” again, I envisioned a few hours of rest before I would need to start cooking breakfast and shoveling snow.
I didn’t answer the question, instead leaning in more tightly as he laid down, my leg over his, my head on his chest.
“I’ll take you to your car in the morning.”
“If you do that, I’ll be expected at brunch.”
“Ooh, you're having brunch at the West Jannah Grille. It’s a really great place. Oh, and the scavenger hunt is tomorrow! How much fun will that be? Assuming the roads are passable. Otherwise, that might be a nightmare. A bunch of tourists wandering Jannah Beach and West Jannah …”
“How do you know all that?”
I reached up and kissed his pec. “Small town, remember. Your sister’s plans have been the talk of Jannah for months. The scavenger hunt in particular since she reached out to a bunch of local businesses and plans to send guests our way.”
“Our way?”
“Um, yeah. After you booked your room, your sister …”
“Elise.”
“Elise called. Oh, I shouldn’t be telling you this. I’m giving you an unfair advantage!”
He hugged me closer, and I swear, as sated and relaxed as I was, just that little possessive tug had my body popping with electricity. I didn’t think I’d ever fall asleep again, wanting to bathe in the sensation forever. Conveniently, our conversation kept us up.
“I might skip it. I don’t think my sister will miss me.
She’s six years younger than me, she and Wamil have all their friends here, and all our cousins.
I’m just the weird, oldest young guy or youngest old guy attending this wedding.
I’ll go to brunch and dinner, and I’m in the ceremony, so I can’t miss that!
And of course, I’ll suffer through the reception.
So with all of that, can’t you give me the scavenger hunt to get my work done? ”
“You’re really not looking forward to this wedding?”
“I know it makes me sound like a horrible beast.”
“You?” I chuckled to myself.
“Or at least a horrible brother, but …” He sighed into my hair, and I reached up to brush it away, worried that my long locks were tickling him.
He caught my hand as I went to return it to his firm abs, and if I’d thought his hug was electric, him taking my hand caused a tug that started near my heart and pulled through to my toes.
It was almost painful in its wonderfulness.
The pain will be when he leaves, I thought, which seemed ridiculous since twelve hours earlier I hadn’t even known the man.
“Do you know what it’s like to be the only single person in a room full of love and romance?
I’ve pictured my wedding … Well, frankly, I’ve probably pictured my wedding since I was a teenager, looking down at the Lavendar Sea, wondering if there was another boy who cared about the names of individual flowers.
I’ve been alone most of my life, watching everyone pair up and find their happily ever afters.
I mean, my aunt was windowed five years ago, and even she has a date to this wedding! ”
I didn’t want to think of him with someone else, but …
“You could have brought a date.”
“True,” he said, sounding resigned. “But here’s the thing about me, Oliver. I don’t just want some date. You know, some guy I’ve settled for just so I have someone to dance with other than Aunt Ginni. Oh my God! I don’t even have aunt Ginni to dance with.” He let go of my hand and covered his face.
“Please ignore me,” he said through his hands. “I know I sound selfish, and I’m sure the wedding will be beautiful and fun and ... Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your garden.”
“My garden,” I said as if I were trying the words on for size.
I didn’t see it as my garden. It was Gran’s garden, and my job was to clean it up to honor her memory.
And I wanted to do that, I really did, but first I had to pay off the roof repair and get bookings back on track and maybe replace the hardwood flooring in the entrance foyer.
Plus, I didn’t know the first thing about gardening.
He wanted a soulmate to plant flowers with, but I’d never learned how.
“You really remember Gran’s garden from when you were a kid?”
Without hesitation, he answered, “Vividly. I wanted to stay here so badly. Mother always said no, and I never had the nerve to introduce myself, or you know, trespass, but your grandmother created something really special out there. I thought I’d at least get to see it in its dormant stage while I was here. ”
I tucked myself into his manly, not-so-fresh, but still-enticing chest and let out a little whimper. Bryan sat up, taking me with him and looking me in the eye, the flickering fire in no way hiding the concern in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry. How selfish of me, making you talk about your Gran. I’m just being a selfish prick all the way around.”
I had friends, my own and Gran’s, who had looked out for me since she’d died, parents who checked in all the time, and even a few loyal guests who emailed to see how I was doing.
But for some reason, having that man’s concerned gaze on me made me feel like the most important person in the world.
I leaned in and kissed him, practically sitting in his lap in my desire to be close to him.
He joined me in it but then pulled back, looking puzzled and still concerned.
The puzzlement had his brow furrowing, like it had hours earlier, but now it just looked wonderful and special because his concern was aimed at me.
“I’m not upset about Gran,” I began. I went to lie back down, turning my back to him and encouraging him to wrap himself around me from behind. “Sure, sometimes it's hard to think about her …”
I was so worried about what this man would think when I told him about the garden he had loved. I’d loved it, too, but running the Lavendar Sea on my own had meant compromises. I’d had neither the time nor the money for Gran’s pride and joy.
He’s going to think less of me, I thought, which seemed crazy because we had just met, and he likely didn’t think anything of me at all except that I’d kept him company during the storm. It shouldn’t matter what he thought about me or the garden, but for some reason, it really did.
“I’m running this place on my own, now, and I just … It was a lot to get used to. I’ve been through two seasons, and I’m hopeful things will get better, but it didn’t leave a lot of time for tending to the garden.”
He pulled me in tighter, but then his arm left me, and I worried that he was pulling away. Instead, he reached out and repositioned the blanket over us before snaking his arm back underneath it and over my chest.
My hand rested on his until he turned his over and gave mine a little squeeze. “Of course, it didn’t. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through. Guests all summer long, and you have no help?”
“I had lots of friends offer to help, but summer at the beach is a busy time for everyone. I don’t have any staff. It’s always been just Gran and me since I graduated.”
“Doesn’t leave time for a garden,” he said plainly, and I felt like I’d ruined my Gran’s legacy and his childhood memories.
“She loved that garden,” was all I could say.
“You know what? I know she did.” He said like he was just then realizing it. “I could tell when I saw her out there working. But you want to know the thing about gardens?” he asked.
“What’s that?”
“They are forever changing. Plants grow; they die. Even if you replace one with the same species, you never get the same plant. Your garden can be saved, Oliver.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
He kissed behind my ear. “Maybe one of your friends might be able to help you there.”
Did he mean that he would be willing to help me? My heart pounded at the thought that I wouldn’t be saying goodbye to him.
“I don’t think I can afford a landscape architect.”
“I didn’t say landscape architect. I said friend.”
We were quiet for a minute.
“Well, if you had a friend, he might tell you to try and have fun at your sister’s wedding.” I tilted my head back. “It’s not about you.”
He barked out a laugh. “Thank you for saying that. You’re absolutely right, but can I just whine about it for a little bit longer?”
I looked up toward the bay window.
“Until sunrise.”
He nodded against me, laughing and agreeing. “Until sunrise.”
He told me more, then, about his dreams.
“It sounds like you want to live in …”
“A rom-com.”
I chuckled. “I was going to say a romance novel.”
He laughed right back. “Yeah, you get it.”
“I’m sure you’ll find your handsome prince."
He sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
We dozed a little after that. When I awoke, the fire had almost died out, and I could tell that the room was cold, though I was warm in his arms.
I turned toward him and was admiring the way his thick eyelashes managed to match his hair, with those red highlights peaking throughout, when there was a knock on the back door.
“Shit.” I jumped up, and a befuddled Bryan began to wake up.
“Huh?”
“Someone’s here. I’ll get it.” Obviously, I would get it; why would I say that? “You, um …” Just like that, it felt like a spell had been broken.
“If you want to go up to your room, I’ll have breakfast for you whenever you're ready. Then we’ll go sort out your car.” I felt like I was dismissing him, but more than that, like I was closing the romance novel that had been our night together and reopening the story of a hotelier and his guest.
I started to move around the chairs to collect up our clothes, but he grabbed my hand, keeping me in place.
“Ollie.” Shit, no one called me Ollie. Not since Gran died.
He might as well have called me “sweetheart,” the way it made my heart patter.
He kissed me gently. “Thank you for last night. For talking to me and for calling me out on my bullshit. You’re right.
This is my sister’s big day, and a sweep-you-off-your-feet romance, that’s just a fantasy that TV channels and book publishers feed us. ”
Whoever was at the back door knocked again, louder. We separated and scurried to dress. I should have told him how much I believed in romance too, how he’d been part of the most romantic thing to ever happen to me.
“Is that what I said?” I contradicted, tossing a pink sock at him. “I have more of those socks if you need them.”
At least he was laughing as I headed toward the back door, letting my friend Chase in.
“Hey, Oliver. Did the roof survive?”
“Shh.” I turned toward the stairs, hoping Bryan hadn’t heard. I couldn’t hear his footsteps or the creaking stairs.
There was nothing subtle about Chase. “What are you looking at? Is it your …” He paused and lowered his voice. “It’s six in the morning. Is that your guest leaving the living room?”
“Wait!” I said, but Chase was locking eyes with Bryan a moment later, who was halfway up the stairs. Chase looked from the living room, to Bryan, to me, a smirk quirking his lip. I could feel my face turning to flames.
“Chase!”
Bryan’s face was all consternation again. He stepped closer to us. Was he being protective? Possessive? Either way, that tug at my heartstrings was yanked again. Bryan might have been having a one-night stand, but that storm was definitely my romance novel.
“I’m Bryan,” he growled. My romantic imagination was likely running away with me, but it sure sounded possessive.
Chase was fairly obvious as his gaze moved from the pile of blankets on the floor to Bryan. Part of me hoped the roof would give out at that moment.
“Chase.” He extended his hand, and Bryan took it, firmly.
“I’m the mayor. I think we have your car in our parking lot, Bryan.
The plows have come through and carved us out a path.
It’s not perfect, but it got me here, so it should get you back.
So come on! Get yourself bundled up, and I’ll take you to my office. ”
I stood between them like a deer in the headlights. I felt like I should speak, but I didn’t know what to say.
“I’ll be right down,” Bryan grumbled. For a second, I thought he was going to walk forward first, like he might kiss me or something.
Instead, he bounded up the stairs.
Chase and I both waited until we heard his door close.
“Oliver Vennard!” Chase grasped my bicep in both of his arms, hanging off me, his mouth agape. “In front of the fireplace!” He let go and covered his mouth.
“Who is this guy? You know what? Doesn’t matter. Snowstorm. Fireplace. Hunky stranger.” His hands were back on my arm, this time lightly tapping me, one side at a time. “This. Is. So. Romantic! Tell me everything.”
“Stop that!” He kept slapping.
“Not until you tell me everything!”
“Chase, be quiet. He’ll be right back down. Besides”—I lowered my voice—“it was nothing.” That was difficult to say.
“The way he was glaring at me sure didn’t look like nothing.”
“That’s just him. He’s a really angry guy.”
“Oh! An angry fuck? That’s so hot!”
“It wasn’t an angry … We just fooled around,” I whispered.
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Tell me more, tell me more,” my overly dramatic best friend sang.
“Don’t you have a town to dig out, Mr. Mayor? There’s like five feet of show out there.”
“Over two, but this is much more interesting.” He gestured to the fireplace.
“What did you mean, about him glaring?”
“Oh, honey, the way he looked at you? It was like he had those disgusting little heart candies spilling out of his eyes. And the way he looked at me?”
“At you? What do you mean?” The door upstairs closed, and we could hear Bryan returning.
“Watch.”
“Wait, what?”