Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“Was it really just for show?” she asked Jules the next day, ignoring the stack of bouquets on her counter in favor of more important things.
Like her kiss with Nick.
Their second kiss.
“Did it feel like a show?” Jules asked, looking interested. She sipped her coffee, perched on one of Rose’s stools. “And exactly what kind of kiss are we talking about, on a scale of ‘quick peck’ to ‘tongue down your throat’…?”
“It was definitely on the steamy side,” Rose confirmed with a satisfied sigh. “A hot, ‘let me take all your clothes off and ravish you right here’ kind of kiss. I mean, he would deserve an Oscar for that performance. Nobody could fake that kind of passion… Could they?” she asked.
“Beats me.” Jules said. “Although, this is Nick Sterling we’re talking about, so all bets are off.”
“Right. Nick the incorrigible bachelor,” Rose said, reminding herself. “Nick, the man who probably frenches everything that moves.”
Nick, the man who was now occupying 90% of her waking thoughts—and a fair portion of her sleeping ones, too.
Rose turned her attention back to the holiday bouquets she was assembling. Mistletoe, evergreens, bright hypericum berries… She added luxurious bows in velvet tartan to round off the display, but somehow, her mind kept drifting back to Nick’s good-night kiss.
His mouth, hot and urgent… his hands, cupping her cheeks…
“So much for distraction,” she said with a rueful smile. “I wanted to get my mind off Scott, and now I can’t stop thinking about Nick, instead!”
Jules laughed. “Which is an improvement, you have to admit. Way less wallowing and heartache.”
“True.” Rose agreed, trimming some sprigs of heather. Just a few days ago, she’d been moping around in Scott’s old college sweatshirt, feeling like all hope of future love and happiness was gone forever. And now?
Now, she felt a flicker of excitement in her veins—and she hadn’t worn that sweater all week.
“Maybe Nick was right,” she mused. “Maybe a rebound fling is exactly what I need.”
Jules didn’t reply. When Rose looked up, her friend was studying her coffee foam like it was the most fascinating thing around.
“Jules,” she prompted. “What aren’t you saying?”
“Nothing, except…” Jules bit her lip. “Are you sure you’re a rebound fling kind of woman? You want true love. You deserve true love,” she added. “But a guy like Nick…”
“… Is not true love material,” Rose finished for her. “I know that. Everyone on Cape Cod probably knows that. They should put a sign up: ‘Welcome to Sweetbriar Cove – population 24,000 and one playboy bachelor’,” she added with a laugh.
“So, just be careful, that’s all.” Jules said. “I’d hate to see you waste any more time—and emotion—on the wrong guy, after everything that happened with Scott.”
Rose winced. “That was different,” she insisted. “I thought he was The One. I’m under no starry-eyed illusions with Nick,” she added. “We have fun together, that’s all.”
And they could have even more fun together, naked.
“Okaaay,” Jules said, still clearly not convinced. “I’m all for fun. Just, be careful, that’s all. It’s easy to get swept up in the moment, especially when the chemistry is right. I thought Reeve would just be a fling, and look at us now,” she added with an affectionate smile.
“Practically an old married couple,” Rose teased, and Jules laughed, getting down from her stool.
“That’s us. Evie threatened to buy us matching flannel pajamas for the holidays, and you know what? That sounds great to me!”
Rose said goodbye, laughing, and turned back to finish her floral arrangement.
She knew Jules was just being a good friend, telling her to watch out, but Rose knew better than anyone: Nick Sterling wasn’t boyfriend material.
She’d had a front-row seat to his parade of flings—hell, she’d been the one supplying all his flowers for the seduction routine.
A new bouquet, like clockwork, every Friday night.
And then another on Saturday, too.
The man was incapable of a committed relationship—but she didn’t want a relationship with him, did she? She’d poured all those dreams of happily-ever-after into her crush on Scott, and look how far that had gotten her:
Exactly nowhere at all.
But a fling? A brief, wild, sexy affair that took all this unexpected chemistry and explored just how far it could go… Rose felt a shiver of excitement. That was a whole other ballgame, one she’d never played before.
And she was more than ready to learn the rules.
“There you are! I thought you were standing me up.” Nick greeted her that evening by the Town Hall with a dashing smile and a Thermos flask of something steaming.
“Sorry I’m late,” Rose said, breathless from her rush. “I had, uh, business at the shop.”
Business, like deciding what to wear. She must have traded outfits a dozen times before settling on a cream knit sweater and form-fitting forest green corduroy pants for tonight’s adventure.
Of course, the effect was now hidden under her wool coat and scarf, but Rose had curled her hair, slicked on some berry gloss, and felt cute enough for whatever flirtatious, steamy encounters may be coming her way.
She gave Nick a smile, fluttering her eyelashes in what she hoped was a seductive manner. He gave a bland smile back. “Do you have something in your eye?”
Rose gulped. “Uh huh,” she said, pretending to rub it. “It’s fine now.”
So much for seductive.
“Did I miss anything?” she asked, looking around. The familiar crowd was forming, but unlike the playful smiles of the first night, people had their game faces on. The Swedes were even decked out in camouflage gear with hi-tech headsets on. They looked serious, focused. Out to win.
“Just the usual smack-talk,” Nick said. “Riley and Ash almost came to blows, and Mackenzie threatened to curse the name of any foe who dared cross her.”
Rose blinked, before realizing he was kidding. “They did not!” she laughed.
“It’s all in the subtext,” he said, as Jackson and Alice waved over at them. “See?” he murmured. “They’re ready to cut down the competition.”
“You have a dark, devious mind, Nick Sterling,” she teased.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Aunt June took to the steps, with another stack of red envelopes. “Welcome!” she called, recapping the first stage results. Rose and Nick were out in the lead, but Scott’s team was hot on their heels. “It’s still anyone’s game,” June announced happily. “Who will be victorious tonight?”
“I hope you’re warmed up,” Nick muttered, as he pretended to stretch. “Because this is going to be a fierce race.”
Warm was one way of putting it, Rose thought, watching as he nimbly cut through the crowd to grab their first clue. She was past toasty, and well on her way to melting hot by the time he bent his head close to hers to read the clue, his aftershave drifting on the evening breeze.
Cinnamon, she decided, breathing in deep. It was different to the one he’d worn the other night. Deeper, more festive. And if she moved a little closer—
“Got it!” he declared, before she’d even read the clue. “The church tower. Bells!”
Rose watched as he sprinted across the square, dashing up the church steps to retrieve the next clue.
She needed to pull it together, she scolded herself, waiting at the bottom as Nick jostled with the other people racing for the clue.
Yet again, Nick was acting like there was nothing out of the ordinary about their sizzling kiss.
And yet again, it was all she could think about.
He emerged a moment later, the envelope already open in his hand. “Bookshop,” he panted, waving the clue at her. “Mystery section. Agatha Christie!”
Rose felt a flash of disappointment as he zoomed off down the street. At this pace, the night would be over before they’d ever shared a word.
Let alone another kiss.
She made her way after him to the bookstore, which was half-hidden down a winding path just outside the square.
There was already a scrum inside, as a dozen contestants elbowed each other to get to the next clue.
The owner, Grayson, stood out front, regarding the chaos with a bemused look on his face.
“What’s the prize for this thing?” he asked.
“Bragging rights,” Rose told him.
“All seems like a lot of trouble to me.” He let out a yawn and checked his watch. “Tell the last one out to lock up,” he said, “There’s an Irish coffee and a fine woman calling my name.”
He sauntered away, leaving Rose waiting outside in the cold.
“Hey.”
She turned. Scott’s date, Becca, was also standing there, bundled up in a stylish coat. “I figured it’s safer out here,” Becca said with a wry grin. “It looks like they’re throwing elbows in there.”
“Right.” Rose managed a friendly smile. After all, the other woman didn’t know Scott had bounced between them without even pausing for breath. “You’re from New York, right? This probably isn’t how you usually spend your holidays.”
“Not exactly, no,” Becca agreed, looking around. “But it’s actually kind of fun. I feel like I’m in a Hallmark movie, about to learn the true meaning of Christmas.”
Rose laughed. “Don’t worry. Scott doesn’t go in for traditions. Usually, you can’t drag him to one of these town events for anything.”
She paused, thinking of all the times she’d chosen go see a movie or just stay in with him instead of joining in the festivals she really loved.
At the time, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal; she’d wanted to hang out, just the two of them.
But now, looking back… She felt a pang of regret at all the fun she’d missed.
“Just don’t let him push you around,” she found herself adding.
“He can be pretty… Persuasive about things. It’s part of his charm, but then you realize that it means he always winds up getting his way. ”
Becca looked curious, but before she could say anything, Scott emerged from the bookshop, holding a red envelope aloft in victory. “Got it!” he yelled.