Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Harper
I’d run out of time. Despite my plan to get the Christmas decorations up, I had an unexpected response to my help wanted ads, and ultimately, interviewing and hiring had taken priority over hanging lights and wreaths.
But I’d run out of excuses, and I knew if I didn’t get them up promptly, I’d be hearing from Tilley Beckett about it. Or worse, Erin would go over my head and call Grayson herself to get the job done.
Neither was an option.
It was a bright, bluebird afternoon. The type of day where you had to wear sunglasses to protect your eyes from the blinding reflection of the sun off the snow, but could still see your breath.
I dragged two boxes out front and assessed the situation.
Grandma hadn’t changed much of the decorations over the years, only bothering to freshen up a few things. But we still had the pine bough that would be draped along the window, with two oversized red bows on either side and the massive wreath that hung on the door.
Easy.
I pulled the massive pine bough from the box and noticed the upgrade of twinkling lights that would require an extension cord to be strung from one side of the storefront to the other.
Okay…slightly more complicated.
But nothing I couldn’t handle.
First things first. I needed a ladder.
With my hands on my hips, I turned a slow circle and took in the plaza around me. It was busy in that pre-holiday way, with both tourists and locals milling about with their shopping and steaming cups of coffee from the Bean Bag.
For a moment, I thought I saw Grayson over by the gazebo, fiddling with a strand of lights. The tall frame, the dark hair, the way he moved…it had been a long time, but…
I didn’t let myself look twice. The sooner I got the job done, the sooner I could get back inside to the kitchen.
Without a ladder, my next best option was a chair from the dining room. Inside, I grabbed the sturdiest one I could find, making a mental note to double-check all the chairs, and dragged it outside.
If I could survive for years working in a yacht kitchen on the rolling seas without any major calamities, there was no reason I couldn’t string a garland over the window. Even if it did require a few questionable acrobatic moves.
With the garland in one hand, I climbed up on the chair, but it wasn’t tall enough to reach the hook.
I sucked in a breath, stood on my tiptoes, and stretched as far over as I could.
It was only just out of reach. I just needed to stretch a little further.
My fingers brushed the hook, just as the chair wobbled, the leg catching on the uneven patio stones below. The next thing I knew, the ground tilted, the garland slipped from my hands, and—
A pair of strong arms caught me moments before I hit the ground.
Grayson.
I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was him. The second I allowed myself to breathe again, my senses were overwhelmed with the fresh scent of pine and peppermint that was both familiar and brand-new.
Then I opened my eyes, looked up, and my breath caught in my throat.
Clear, blue eyes. The color of glacier water. The very same eyes I saw in my dreams for so many years.
But everything else was different. He’d filled out since I’d last been that close. A thick, muscular chest with strong arms that held me steady, as if I weighed nothing at all.
“Harper,” Grayson said, his voice low and steady.
Deeper than I remembered it.
And just like that, I was back in his arms. A place I no longer belonged.
Grayson
I tried not to look her way, but it was as if a magnet kept drawing my gaze away from the missing lightbulbs at the gazebo, directly to the shop front of Willa’s Whisk. And Harper.
She was balanced on a chair, of all damned things, and it looked like she was on her tiptoes, trying to—shit!
I didn’t think, just moved. My boots crunched on the snow-covered bricks as I sprinted across the plaza.
The chair wobbled.
Two more steps, and I was there right as the chair tipped.
She let out a startled sound as she landed safely in my arms.
“Harper.”
She felt the same. Small, warm, and familiar. But she was different, too. Older. Stronger. And somehow, just more.
And still, every woman I’d held over the years—admittedly, not that many—had been measured against her without even realizing it. None of them had ever come close.
Without meaning to, I breathed in and filled my senses with the familiar scent of the girl I’d loved for so long.
Only she wasn’t a girl anymore.
She wasn’t the Harper I knew.
Instead of the peach-scented shampoo she’d favored in high school, Harper smelled of fresh basil and parsley and the undeniable scent…of tomato sauce.
I didn’t let go right away. I couldn’t.
Her eyes opened, finding mine. Wide at first, then narrowing a little, like she was searching for something in my face. “Grayson.”
I nodded.
“You caught me.”
I managed a smile. “Someone had to keep you from breaking your neck.”
She huffed out a breath that might have been the start of a laugh. “I had it under control.”
“Balancing on a chair on the snow and ice? Is that what we’re calling under control?”
She pressed her lips together, and I eased her to her feet, reluctantly and slowly.
When she was safely upright, I forced myself to take a step back.
The space between us was instantly too much.
The familiar ache in my chest that had taken over ten years to fade to a tolerable level flared back to life with an intensity that took my breath away.
“Thanks.” She turned away from me to grab the garland. “I can handle it from here.”
“You know I’ve done this for Willa every year, since—well…for a long time.” I reached for the garland in her hand, but she pulled away. “I don’t mind helping, Harper.”
“I think I can handle a few lights and garland.”
I lifted a brow, and she laughed.
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I insisted. “Let me grab my ladder. We don’t need any more close calls.”
She hesitated, as if she were about to argue again, but finally sighed. “Fine. But only because I have so many things to get done, and a broken bone would really get in the way.”
I grinned and jogged back to the gazebo, where I’d left my ladder and the half-fixed lighting. It could wait a few more minutes. By the time I got back, Harper was untangling the garland and muttering as if it had personally wronged her.
“I don’t know what it is about holiday decorations, but they all seem to end up in tangles and knots.” I locked the ladder in place. “Ask me how I know.”
Harper chuckled, and the sound filled me with warmth. “You really do seem to be Mr. Christmas around here.” She waved to the lights and decorations in the plaza.
“I wouldn’t say it’s Christmas exclusive.” I grabbed the end of the pine garland and climbed the ladder. “Tilley Beckett seems to have my number on speed dial whenever there’s something she needs done around town.”
“You’re just a helpful guy, then.”
“I guess I am.” I looked down at her before looping the first end over the hook I’d installed for that very purpose. “I volunteered for one thing about ten years ago, and…”
“It stuck.”
I laughed. “It sure seems that way.”
It only took me a few more minutes to stretch the garland out, letting it hang just so before hooking it to the opposite side of the window.
I trailed the cord down the side of the door, tucking it neatly behind a piece of flashing, and plugged it in.
“There you go,” I said when the lights flickered to life. “The only thing left is the—”
“Wreath.” Harper held it out in front of her. “I think I can handle this much.”
“Are you sure?” I eyed her, but I saw the flash of a smile before she turned away.
“I’m sure.” She rolled her eyes and stepped toward the door, where she dramatically lifted the wreath in the air.
Right before she placed it on the hook, I sucked in a sharp breath and pretended to gasp.
Harper spun to face me. “Gray!”
Hearing the abbreviated version of my name from her lips sent a shock wave through me. “Sorry,” I mumbled and bit back a laugh as she finished hanging the wreath in its place. “Nice work,” I said when she stepped back. “I didn’t doubt you for a second.”
She shot me a look and shook her head. “Thank you for your help,” she said with a small smile. “I’m happy to have this off my list before the town decorating committee comes after me. I’ve been pretty busy since I got back and—”
A flash of movement from across the plaza caught our attention. We both turned at the same time to see Symon Scott and his wife Charli, both of whom we’d gone to school with, watching us. I knew what they were thinking. What, no doubt, anyone who knew us when we were younger was thinking.
“Looks like we have a bit of an audience,” I murmured.
Harper blew out a breath. “I guess two people hanging up decorations is pretty exciting stuff around here.” She met my eyes, and again, there was a surge of something from deep inside me.
It had been so long since I’d seen her. There were so many things I wanted to say. Things I’d dreamed about saying for a long time. Things that had kept me up at night, wishing I’d said them over a decade ago.
I opened my mouth, but, thankfully for my pride, before I had the opportunity to say anything, Harper clapped her hands together.
“I should probably get back inside.” She turned to walk away, and it took everything in me to keep from reaching for her and making her stay.
“Thanks, Grayson,” she said. “I appreciate it.”
I lifted my hand in a pathetic wave, but she was already gone.
Harper
The second the door clicked behind me, I pressed my back up against it, holding still until I was sure my knees wouldn’t give out.
I closed my eyes and willed my heart to slow down.
It was hammering against my ribs, the sound loud in my ears.
It had been a long time since I’d been in Grayson Lyons’s arms. It was a lifetime ago. It shouldn’t feel that way anymore. It shouldn’t affect me. It shouldn’t make me feel at all.
Naively, I’d assumed that time and distance would have dulled the hold he had on me. I should be able to look at him and see a boy I used to know once upon a time.
I was wrong.
So. So. So. Wrong.
He was broader now. Stronger. The kind of strength I felt through every cell in my body when he caught me in his arms. There was a steadiness in his touch, and the way he looked at me…like he’d been waiting all these years for me to stumble on a chair, just so he could be there to catch me.
But there was no way.
Not after all these years.
That door was closed. That chapter of our book was long over.
I dared to open my eyes and let out a shaky breath.
He was just a man I used to know. A man who helped me hang decorations. A neighbor. An acquaintance. A friend.
I was back in Trickle Creek for one reason only. Grandma.
I needed to be there for her and her only. And leave again, without my return to town meaning anything more.
No problem.
But now, with my pulse racing and my body tingling where he’d held me, it felt like a lot more of a problem than I’d initially thought.
I blew out a breath and pushed up from the door, ready to head into the kitchen and lose myself in the dinner prep, when a sharp knock sounded behind me.
My heart lurched, and my pulse immediately picked up where it had just left off.
Grayson.
I turned and took a moment to smooth my hair and straighten my coat, schooling my face into a neutral mask before opening the door.
It wasn’t Grayson.
The man on the other side of the door was short and unfamiliar. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a dark coat, a tentative smile on his face.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Kevin.”
I stared at him blankly, my brain working overtime trying to reconcile that it wasn’t Grayson on the other side. I peered over the man’s shoulder, but Grayson and his ladder were already gone.
I turned my attention back to the man in front of me. “I’m sorry, I—”
“We spoke on the phone,” he said. “About the head chef position?”
“Oh.” It took me a moment to shake off the sting of disappointment and place the man in my memory. “Right. Kevin. I’m sorry, I was just…come on in.”
I stepped back and waved the man into the dining room.
I needed to focus. The head chef position was important. Really important. How had I forgotten?
This was exactly what I’d promised myself wouldn’t happen.
The whole reason I’d stayed away from Trickle Creek for so long and flown Grandma all over the world to see me instead.
I knew this would happen if I came back to my hometown.
Sure enough, it had taken all of five minutes in his presence for me to forget myself and the most important interview I’d lined up all week.
I needed to get it together. Quickly.
Kevin stepped inside, glancing around the dining room with polite curiosity. I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought about what he saw. Willa’s Whisk was old. Traditional. It was a nice way of saying that there hadn’t been any updates in over twenty years.
Looking at it through a stranger’s eyes brought the moment quickly and sharply back into focus.
I exhaled, shrugged out of my coat, and forced a professional smile. “Why don’t we sit over here?” I waved him to the table by the window.
Fortunately, if Kevin had any opinions on my stunned demeanor or the worn-down state of the restaurant, he didn’t show it. Instead, he slipped off his coat and took the seat across from me.
I managed to pull myself together, grab a notebook and get through the interview, which turned out to be better than expected.
Kevin was capable, experienced, and seemed to have a calm and steady demeanor, which was necessary in the kitchen.
Even better, he was looking for a change and excited about the opportunity to move out of the city and into the mountains.
By the time we shook hands and I saw him out, I was once more fully focused on the task at hand and picturing him in Willa’s Whisk.
The door had only just closed behind him when the kitchen door swung open and Grandma appeared, apron on, wiping her hands on a towel.
“You were in the kitchen?”
She stared at me incredulously. “Where else would I be?”
“Upstairs?” I shook my head. “Resting? You’re not well, Grandma.”
“We needed pies.”
I shook my head. There was no point in arguing. “That interview went—”
“I saw you outside earlier.” She cut me off, clearly not interested in the potential new chef. “It looked like you had a little help with the decorations after all.” She glanced from the window and back to me with a faint smile.
Her tone was light, but the gleam in her eyes was anything but subtle.
“Grandma…”
She didn’t say another word. She simply gave me a knowing little wink before disappearing back through the swinging door.