Chapter 7
Holly had spent the day with Vince in the office, going over what she had so far for the Sterling interview as well as the usual island news.
Of course, her co-editor was as curious about Seb’s plans for the lighthouse as she was.
That would make the final article easier for them to write.
As long as she could keep herself from delving too close to the personal stuff.
Seb didn’t want to share too much of his background and frankly, the more she learned, the more she liked being the only one privy to those details.
Which was absolutely the wrong attitude for a reporter, especially in a small town.
She’d gone home to grab a bite to eat before the book club meeting.
Normally, she picked up take-out, but she really didn’t want to run into anyone who might try and pump her for details on the new owner of the famed Marion estate.
Though the evening was cooling quickly, she couldn’t resist taking her bicycle over to the Palmetto Perk on Central Ave.
Under previous management the coffee shop had been fun and pleasant.
And relatively quiet in the evenings, making it a great choice for The Beach Readers Silent Book Club.
Now that Willow owned the place it was as if she’d dialed up the coastal vibe to ten and created a sanctuary from mismatched armchairs, a variety of tables, and one wall dedicated to local artists.
Holly still wasn’t sure how Willow had packed so much into the same space.
She walked inside, the air redolent with the aroma of roasted coffee beans and hot cocoa, her mind on the Victorian mystery book in her backpack. “Hey,” she said, joining her friends at the space near the back corner.
Every face turned her way and she knew Willow, Scarlett, and Grace had already told the others about meeting Sebastian this morning.
“You didn’t bring Digby,” Willow complained, setting a pot of coffee on the table.
“He’s not my dog,” she replied, perching on the edge of a chair.
“That’s right,” Scarlett said, her gaze sharp, “he belongs to the hot new billionaire in town.”
After learning more about Seb from Vince, she supposed that wasn’t much of an exaggeration. “What are y’all reading this week?” Holly asked in a blatant attempt to change the subject. “And where’s Trina?”
“The baby is sick,” Hazel explained. “And back up a beat. Mrs. Gable says your new guy is handsome and already in love with you.”
Holly nearly dropped the cup of coffee she’d poured. “First, not my guy and second, you know better than to believe everything Mrs. Gable spouts.”
“There’s a seed of truth in every exaggeration.” Hazel did a remarkable job imitating the older woman.
Beside her Camille and Charity laughed while Scarlett rolled her eyes.
Holly slumped in her chair. “No one wants to talk books?”
“Not a chance,” Scarlett said.
“I want details,” Grace agreed, her eyes bright with the kind of focus she usually reserved for new inventory at the boutique. “He was a complete mystery and now you’re having coffee with him and his dog.” She tapped her fingers together. “Spill, Holly.”
She sipped her coffee, trying to keep her expression neutral. “He loves Connie’s apple strudel.”
“So he has good taste.” Grace smiled. “And he’ll fit right in.”
“Why the Marion estate?” Scarlett wondered. “For that matter, why Brookwell at all?”
“A friend recommended our town,” Holly said before she caught herself. “No names, but Seb’s friend is connected with one of the bands that attended the music festival.”
Grace’s hands curled around her hot chocolate. “Is he aware the Marion estate has a seat on the planning committee?”
“I’ve mentioned it.” She smiled. “So, what’s everyone reading?”
“Same as last week for me,” Hazel piped up, her fingers wrapped around a thick historical biography. “But since when are you on a first name basis? Last week we were all referring to him as the recluse on the point.”
Willow arched her eyebrows, aiming a knowing look at Holly. “He’s different than the headlines, isn’t he? This morning he looked… well, remarkably grounded for a man who owns half of Silicon Valley.”
“That’s a fair assessment,” Holly agreed. Grounded and wounded. “Obviously, there are layers. Just like everyone else.”
“One of those layers includes a boat,” Camille said. “Your trip to Parker’s wasn’t a state secret.”
“Of course not.” She weighed how best to get out of this conversation. “He’s an introvert.” Surely, they could all respect that. “And I don’t think he expected so much attention when he moved to a small town.”
A collective “Oh” rippled through the group. Not all her book club friends had been raised here. They understood the adjustment process. When folks in Brookwell said hello or asked about your day, they cared about the answer.
“And?” Scarlett pressed. “You looked almost smitten this morning.”
Holly felt her cheeks heat. “That’s more complicated,” Holly admitted, finally dropping the reporter’s mask. “We’re working on an interview, so I need to keep my professional distance. But he asked me to help navigate the small-town situation and that feels more personal.”
“You like him,” Grace said. “You like whatever’s going on behind the story. I heard you two were practically inseparable at Parker’s.”
Holly nodded, miserable. “I need to hand the story back to Vince. Me being involved is just a fluke anyway. Vince had a flat tire, so I went over and…” She had way too many feelings for a man she just met.
Especially when that man had the potential to create an upheaval on the island with his property rights. “He came here for the peace and quiet.”
“And you’re helping him find it?” Grace arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “That’s how it looked this morning. Can’t you have both the story and the guy?”
Holly shook her head. “The personal stuff is platonic. Just a deal we made as a joke. I’m his local guide, that’s all. As for the story, I’m insisting on transparency, just like always. Anything outside of those lines feels almost manipulative.”
“Unless you hand the story back to Vince,” Hazel suggested. “But it has to be said, you get a bit glowy talking about him.”
“Agreed.” Scarlett drummed her fingers on the side of her cup. “That’s not an interviewer expression on your face. It’s more of a heart-doing-backflips thing.”
“Then my heart needs to get over itself,” Holly stated. “I’m begging y’all. Let’s read.”
“Seconded and passed unanimously,” Willow declared, deliberately opening her e-reader.
After some quieter chatter about books and plot twists, they all were soon immersed in their various books. Holly found it hard to focus on the Victorian mystery she was reading when her own life felt as if she’d fallen into a plot hole.
Seb wasn’t her guy. Was not. Daydreaming about any other outcome was foolish. Besides, if the gossip and pressure continued, he might go back to Silicon Valley. Or somewhere equally removed from her small hometown.
When their reading time came to a close, Scarlett helped Willow clean up as they went their separate ways.
Holly took her time, her focus still divided across so many concerns.
She’d hoped to ask Willow’s advice about how to urge Seb to meet the community expectations halfway.
When Willow’s fiancé, Levi Garrison had invested in Brookwell, the town had heaped a bunch of benefits on him and he’d gladly accepted.
The men were very different, but with luck, maybe Seb would find another friend as well as a strong example to follow when it came to the intricacies of Brookwell.
It would have to wait until tomorrow though, since Scarlett was clearly needing the extra time right now.
Holly walked out of the coffee shop to a perfect night.
The air had cooled to a perfect temperature and the salt-tinged breeze tickled her nose.
The streetlights painted the sidewalks in a soft glow that reminded her why she loved this corner of the world so much.
At the bike rack, she was working the lock when a familiar bark caught her attention.
She looked around, noticing the black SUV parked at the curb.
“Digby?”
Another bark and the little guy appeared, tail wagging and ears perked. She would’ve sworn he was smiling. At the other end of the leash, Seb waited, hands tucked into the pockets of his faded jeans.
“Did he get loose again?” Holly asked, her pulse skipping ahead of her as she went to greet them.
“Not exactly.” The intensity in Seb’s gaze muted the rest of the world. “Tonight, he’s my wingman. I don’t know much about book clubs, but I worried after this morning you might need an extraction.”
He was clearly getting a handle on small-town life. “They weren’t that bad.” Holly stood, though Digby continued to bump her for more attention. “Sometimes they care at a very high intensity.”
“So they asked about me?”
“Exclusively.” She tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. Why did she always feel so disordered around him? “I was prepared.”
Seb stepped closer, the heat of him crowding her personal space. She reveled in it as the buzz in her ears built to a roar. The scent of him—cedar, espresso, and something completely unique to him—wrapped around her, more intoxicating than any cotton-candy Lowcountry sunset.
“Prepared, huh? And what did the editor-in-chief tell them?” His voice, a low gravelly rasp, sent a shiver of longing through her.
“I…” She stopped, licking her suddenly dry lips. “I told them you were complicated,” she whispered. “And that you were trying to find a new place to call home.”
Seb reached out, his thumb grazing her jawline. The contact was light and way too intimate, sending a surge of irresistible lightning through her. He looked down, his eyes dark with a hunger that sizzled across her senses. “I think I found it,” he said. “Thanks to you.”
“Good,” she managed.
“Yes, it is.” His lips tilted up at one corner. “Holly, all I can think about is you. That should annoy me. I didn’t come here to bond with anyone. I’m here for the views, to work in peace. But here I am. Not annoyed. I like this town. I like you.”
She laughed, giddy with anticipation.
“Can I kiss you?”
At this point, she’d be devastated if he didn’t. She nodded, too eager to remember the risks or have a care for ethics.
He leaned down, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was a spectacular, beautiful collision of need—his and hers. All that sizzle and lightning mellowed into a deeper intensity that caught her off guard. More than a kiss, it was a claim, with the promise of a story that didn’t need a headline.
At last, reality was better than any book she’d read recently. This was real and lovely and all she could think was “more”. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, to hell with gossip or agendas. Her heart deserved this special, secret moment—at least for tonight.
Seb eased back, his breathing as ragged as hers, and rested his forehead against hers. “Does this count as some kind of relationship immersion?”
“It’s fast.” Holly let out a shaky laugh, her fingers twining through his hair at the nape of his neck. “But I’m not annoyed.”
Digby huffed, staring up at them with his happy canine grin.
Seb chuckled. “Is it possible to keep this off the record?”
“Definitely.” She didn’t have the heart to remind him they were on a public street where anyone could spot them. She’d manage the fallout if necessary. “And easier if Vince takes lead on the interview again.”
“Fine by me,” Seb murmured, pulling her flush against him once more. “Because I’m not done with this specific research topic yet.”