Chapter 8 #2
“Well, that doesn’t sound creepy at all.” She laughed.
He rolled his eyes. “Listen. It’s just that you have a really easy way with customers. When you’re short on an ice cream flavor someone really wants, you find a way to mix two other flavors to get a new combination they’re equally excited about.”
“That’s the fun of it all. Being creative. Coming up with something new.”
“Not sure I’d call it fun, but whatever it is, you excel at it.”
Her cheeks burned, and it had nothing to do with the heat. “Thanks, Top Gun. You’re pretty good at all this yourself.”
And it didn’t hurt at all to say it.
Except, his gaze held hers, and she was instantly back in the shop, her back to the table, his eyes on hers?—
“Ice cream. Melting.” He pointed to the full scoop in her hand.
And right then, the groom’s dad came over to the table holding the flower girl’s hand. The older gentleman stroked his gray mustache. “Do you have any more of the maple-bacon ice cream? Siena doesn’t believe me that it’s a real flavor.”
“What?” Lily acted shocked.
The girl wrinkled her nose. “Is it really true? Is it good?”
“I think so.”
Siena’s grandpa pointed at the little chalkboard menu Lily had written in pretty script a few hours earlier. “She also has lemon custard, chocolate-cherry pie, and black licorice.”
“Eww, I don’t like licorice.”
“That’s okay. Not every flavor is for every person.” Lily lifted an over-stuffed waffle cone to her. “Except for maple-bacon.” She winked. “Everyone likes this one.”
Siena’s eyes widened and she held the cone in her hands for half a second before diving in. “Oh, yummy. This is so good!” She grinned and backhand-wiped ice cream from her lips.
“Great, you’re going to be on a sugar high the rest of the afternoon,” the man said. He stuffed a twenty in Lily’s tip jar. “Thanks a lot.”
“Sorry!” Lily called as they walked away.
“No, you’re not,” Declan said.
“No, I’m not.” Lily put her hands on her hips and let out a little sigh. “This makes me happy.” She glanced around. “This whole wedding is like this little snapshot. A glimpse of what island life used to be.”
Several children played tag on the lawn. A few others blew bubbles from tiny party favor bottles. A deejay serenaded them with big band music, and couples jitterbugged on the dance floor.
Those halcyon days of childhood. The innocence and naiveté—it all tugged at her.
“I remember.” Declan’s voice seemed full of just as much wistfulness.
A gust lifted the tablecloth and made Lily’s dress swirl. She pinned it down against her legs. Looked up at him. And he—he was looking at her too.
She swallowed, throat suddenly dry.
“Okay, you two.” The bride’s mom slid behind the table, making Lily jump and break her eye contact with Declan. “It’s your turn.”
“For?”
“Dancing, of course. Come on—you’ve been working all afternoon. I can’t even tell you how good these desserts are. I’m going to stop by and buy some ice cream on our way back to the mainland.”
Lily paused. “I don’t actually sell the ice cream.”
“You should!” Despite her petite frame and her four-inch heels, Mrs. Stevenson gently tugged both Declan and Lily by the arm around the table. “Now go, or I’ll reduce your tip. I can handle doling out ice cream and fudge for a little bit. It’ll be fun.”
“Are you sure—” Lily started, but Declan took her hand.
Oh.
He pulled her to the edge of the dance floor.
“Declan.” She stopped and let go of his hand. “Wait. People might talk.”
He turned. Met her gaze. “They might.” His voice had turned quiet, husky, and it sent a shiver through her. “But none of these people are from here except Arnie and Caleb Kennedy, and neither of them are gossips.”
Lily caught sight of the innkeeper, a well-built guy who was friendly and objectively handsome—but he didn’t make her heart rate skyrocket like the man beside her. “True.”
“C’mon, Lil. For old times’ sake?” Declan held out his hand.
She shouldn’t, but then Etta James’s “At Last” came on over the speakers and what was a girl supposed to do?
Lily slid her hand into his. “Just this one.”
“Just this one.” He squeezed, smiled, and see, his charm was hypnotizing. No wonder he sold gobs of fudge.
Then Declan led her onto the dance floor. He slipped his hands around her waist, and she placed her hands on his shoulders. And then he gently rocked to the beat.
Fine. Okay. This might be nice. And she allowed herself to inhale the delicious aroma of Declan. Even let him pull her tighter against his chest.
My lonely days are over…
It was all heady, to say the least.
“Lil?” he murmured.
“Hmm?”
“I wish…I wish things weren’t so contentious between us.”
Her too, suddenly. “Let’s not talk about that. Not right now.”
“It’s just, you know why I’m doing this. For Grandma. But why are you? Did something happen in Florida?”
Oh. But the last—very last thing she was going to tell him about was failing. Not just in school, but at her job.
Her life.
In fact, since leaving Jonathon Island, and frankly, him, her life had pretty much been in shambles.
After a moment, his chest rose and fell, a sigh. “I wish we could find a way for both of us to get what we want.”
She pulled away from him. “But we can’t.”
“No. I guess not.” His eyes searched hers, irises darkening like the sky above them. In the distance, thunder boomed. “What will you do if the fudge shop doesn’t work out? Will you…” He frowned. “Go back to Florida?”
“No. Florida is a dead end for me. I don’t really have a Plan B.”
He was still swaying them. “I’m sure there are a ton of places looking to hire a smart, creative genius like you.” And oh, the warmth in his smile poured all the way through her, touched her bones.
She just might be a soggy, melted mess if he kept looking at her like that.
Somehow, she found her voice. “Not as many as you might think.”
“Oh?”
And maybe, right here, not looking at him, so much of their past in the air, okay. “I got fired from my last job.”
He didn’t say anything, didn’t react, just kept dancing.
So, “But before that, I failed. Out of business school, I mean. My parents don’t know and I don’t have the heart to tell them. They’d be so disappointed.”
Her throat filled. And yet, he still kept moving.
“That’s why I need to win, Declan. I’m already an embarrassment to my family. I need to show them I can be successful. I need to make them proud.”
Now he stopped. Looked down at her. She raised her gaze to his, and shoot—a tear had dropped onto her cheek. “Aw, Lil.” He swiped away her tear and tilted her chin upward. “Don’t you know? They’re so proud of you.”
“Only because they believe the lie I told. But if they knew how much I struggled…” She blew out a terrible breath. “Who am I kidding? They’ll know as soon as you win, and we lose the Hart fudge shop for good.”
She put her head back on his chest, not sure why.
Silence. Then, “Don’t count yourself out just yet, Lily.”
She looked at him again.
“I’m serious. You didn’t see yourself today. Your smile, the way you engaged everyone with ease. Looked them in the eyes and laughed. Made each guest feel special.” Declan’s voice held strength, conviction. “That, plus your incredible creations are a recipe for success.”
This man. How did he keep doing this to her? Making her forget the past—the wounds and want…
Well, to lift up on her tiptoes and to kiss him.
She swallowed. “You really think so?”
“I really do,” he said softly.
And the words of the song swept around her.
For you are mine…
“Dec…”
His gaze roamed her face, settled on her lips.
Yes. Oh?—
Sprinkles, cold splashes on her head, dribbled down her face. The music stopped.
“Rain!” someone from the dance floor yelled, and Declan offered a wry smile and shook his head. Around them people ran for cover, shouting.
But not Declan.
He just stood there, looking at her. Rain dripped from his Roman nose, from the now-loose strands of his hair, and she wanted nothing more than to push her hands through it.
And finally, “Hey you two—get out of the rain!”
The spell was broken. She stepped away from him and he shucked off his jacket.
Held it over her. “We should…” His gaze flitted to her lips.
Okay, maybe not broken completely.
“Should what?” Her voice lifted over the pounding of the rain on the dance floor.
“We should probably cover the fudge.”
She blinked. “Right. The fudge.”
Yes, the fudge . The whole reason that kissing him was a terrible, painfully wonderful, disastrous idea.
The stupid fudge.
* * *
It had been three days.
Three days of preparing for the reporter’s visit tomorrow. Of making fudge and selling to customers and fielding questions from his family.
Three days since the wedding. Since Lily had worn that sunny yellow dress that fitted and flowed off her curves with a gauzy ease. Since she’d pinned her hair up in a loose twist, a few strands sweeping her bare shoulders that had teased Declan all day long.
Three days since he’d almost kissed her.
Again.
And he could probably blame her confession about feeling like a failure—it had gutted him to hear her talk about herself like that.
But if this was how she did business, then maybe he could see why the administrative parts of school hadn’t been her favorite.
Declan leaned against the door to the small office in the back of the fudge shop, watching as Lily dug through her purse and added two more receipts to a stack in a manilla folder.
Beside that sat the receipt spike she used at the register, a few receipts still piled on.
“Please don’t tell me that’s your accounting system. ”
Lily jumped, her hand knocking the file folder to the ground and sending the entire stack of receipts into the air like a New York City ticker-tape parade.
“No!” She dove to scoop up the receipts.
Thank goodness she’d gotten her stitches out yesterday or she’d be right back at the clinic.
“Why’d you have to sneak up on me like that? ”