Chapter 28
LUCY
Iturn Lobster Stalker’s letter over in my hands. This one’s in a sealed envelope, and I trace the seam with my fingers.
I should open it.
Even if I’m not interested in Lobster Stalker, he’s become a friend. It would be cruel and shitty to not even read his letter, especially if he’s a sweet, lonely old man living down the hall. There’s also a possibility that I’ve barely allowed myself to consider…
Enzo mentioned the Lobster Scouts and went to the lobster trap tree lighting. It’s possible it was his silhouette I saw on the street outside the building, his letters I’ve been reading…
So I have to open it for many reasons.
I’m definitely going to.
Just after I tweak my image carousels for each of the shops in my app.
There’s a knock on my door, and I startle before getting to my feet.
It must be Charlie. Eileen’s at the Sip, but Charlie was commissioned to do an oil painting of a German shepherd chasing a running gingerbread cookie, and she has to finish before Christmas.
Charlie has always procrastinated on deadlines, ever since we were teenagers, and I can easily imagine her visiting me as an excuse to avoid working.
But when I look through the peephole I gasp.
“Uh, just a second,” I say, because it’s Enzo, and I’m wearing a huge billowy T-shirt and exercise shorts. Worse, I have coffee breath.
Then I shake my head at my own nonsense and open the door. Because I won’t change myself to try to impress him. If he genuinely wants to date me, he’s going to realize sooner or later that when I get lost in my computer in the mornings, I look like this.
“Bellissima,” he says.
“Please.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m perfectly aware of what I look like right now.”
“Obviously not,” he replies with a shrug.
Then I catch sight of the to-go cups and bakery box. “You brought breakfast?”
“I had to convince you to let me in somehow,” he says, a twinkle in his eyes.
I step aside and allow him entry, marveling at having him here in my space. He left me at my door last night, but I didn’t invite him in. I’d felt too raw at the idea of it.
He walks in, looking around curiously, and then sets the box and cups on the small table in the combined dining and living room.
“So this is where Lucia lives,” he says as I close the door behind him.
I grin at him. “And now you’re trapped inside. You may never be allowed to leave.”
“Is that meant to scare me?”
“You should be scared. For all you know, I was lying, and I have a bathroom stuffed with taxidermied animals.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he says, taking a step toward me. I take a step toward him too, pulled by a force I can’t see and can only feel.
We stop inches from each other, close enough that I can feel the cold he brought in from outside.
“Are you going to take your coat off?”
“Are you going to take your shirt off?” he asks with a curl of his lips.
“For all you know, I’m very busy.”
He watches me for another loaded second and then takes off his coat and hangs it on the back of one of the chairs at the table. “I know you’re very busy. Eileen told me.”
“Which explains the coffee cups, not your presence.”
“So I thought I’d bring you some coffee and breakfast. It seemed only right for us to drink our Frenemies together.”
My heart quakes at this bit of sweetness—and at the thought of him talking with Eileen. I don’t mean to, but I reach up and trace the collar of his sweater. “Thank you for coming. I wanted to try one of them.”
“They’re awful,” he says with a teasing grin. “Much sweeter than ours. Nonna Francesca will be pleased that her cappuccinos remain undefeated.”
“And the box?” I ask, edging even closer, my shirt brushing off his sweater.
“The whoopie pies Audrey is making for Hidden Italy. I thought you’d want a taste.”
“You say that like it’s dirty talk,” I tell him, my own voice lower and throatier than usual.
“It can be,” he says, angling his head for a better look at me. “But that’s not why I’m here. I came to bring you breakfast and to look at what you’re working on, if you’ll let me.”
He surprises me by smiling sheepishly. “No, that’s not entirely true. I came over because I wanted to see you.”
“You’re being disarmingly honest with me today,” I say, taking hold of the collar of his sweater and pulling him a little closer. “It’s making me very suspicious.”
“What was your challenge from Eileen today?”
I hesitate, knowing what he’ll say. “Do something unexpected. It’s very vague.”
“Perfect,” he says with a grin. “Do you want to do the Santa Fun Run with me on Saturday? And caroling? My brother Nico’s getting immortalized in ice, too, so we won’t want to miss seeing that.”
I force a laugh. “You don’t want to do all of that, Enzo, and you don’t need to. You’ve already gotten into my pants, and you can get into them again right now if you play your cards right.”
“I don’t want to play cards this time,” he says. “And no, I’d never, in a million years, go caroling by myself, but I think I’d like to do it with you. Something tells me you sing like an angel.”
My heart thumps hard in my chest. “I’m extremely tone-deaf.”
“Who says angels aren’t?”
A smile tries to form on my mouth. “I also run very slowly.”
“But I’ll bet you do it with determination, don’t you?”
“I do,” I say, feeling heat in my eyes, which is ridiculous. I don’t cry easily, especially not over someone offering to do holiday activities with me. But it feels like he’s offering more than that.
“Then we’ll run together, Lucia.”
“You probably run like the wind.”
He grins. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, and yes, I do. But I’d still prefer to run with you. We can go for broke and run in the woolen sock race on Sunday too. I hoped you might allow me to read to the kids at the library with you too. Eileen told me you’d signed up.”
That’s it. That’s the moment I feel the last of those cracked walls falling away from my heart.
I lean in and kiss him, tasting the Frenemy cappuccino on his lips. He’s delicious, but I’m conflicted. Because I’m doing exactly what I’d promised myself never to do. I’m letting him matter, and he’s going to leave me…
Men like that always leave, Lucy.
I pull back, swallowing hard. “We can’t do this. You’re going back to New York.”
“Is that a command?”
“It’s a statement of reality. Besides, you wanted a no-strings arrangement that wouldn’t land you in Lady Lovewatch, and we’ve already been in there twice.”
“So you’ve seen the new one,” he says. “I asked Eileen if she was the author, but she claims it isn’t her. It’s another mystery of Hideaway Harbor, I guess, just like our elf.”
“You’re not upset that we’re in the column again?” I ask in disbelief.
“No, it turns out I like having my name linked to yours.” He pauses, eyes on mine. “I don’t know if I’m staying. I don’t know if I have it in me to stay, after everything. But I want to explore the possibility. I definitely want to explore what’s happening between us.”
“Are we really doing the fun run?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” he says, his brown eyes full of humor. “We’re doing all of it. I won’t feel like I’ve proven my sincerity to you until I’ve done every awful holiday activity Hideaway Harbor has to offer.”
“Charlie and Lars are going,” I say, watching him for a reaction. He’ll need to spend time around Lars if we’re going to try legitimately dating. He’ll have to be kind.
“I promise not to make a single death threat.” He grins, plenty of humor in his expression. “I have no problem with Lars. Aria is living in paradise. I’ll buy him a drink, slap him on the back a little too hard, and we’ll be good with each other, you watch.”
“Okay,” I say, my heart beating fast. “We’re doing it.”
“We’re doing it,” he confirms. “Together. Now, will you please show me what you’re working on?”
“In a minute,” I say, then take him by the hand and lead him to my bed. “I have other plans for you first.”