25. Lizzie
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lizzie
“Lizette, I presume?” The deep, velvety voice startles me, yanking my attention from the furniture website I’ve been scouring on my tablet.
I suck in a short breath, my hand flying to my chest.
A man stands before me, and he’s the definition of tall, dark, and hella handsome. Tailored suit. Shoes that I’m almost positive are Tom Ford.
“I’m so sorry,” he says quickly. “I absolutely did not mean to shock you. I’m Brian Michaels.”
Maybe one day I won’t react so intensely when someone catches me off guard. But probably not.
Too many years of worrying that Landon was going to appear out of nowhere and cause problems rewired something in me. That kind of fear doesn’t disappear quickly.
I rise from my chair. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was completely lost in thought, trying to make a final decision on tables for the event space.”
I offer him my hand, and he shakes it firmly, his touch warm but gentle.
“Can I get you something to drink? LouAnn makes amazingly good sweet tea.”
“I met LouAnn on my way in,” he says with a grin. “She’s lovely, but I think the two contractors she cornered are a little overwhelmed.”
I can’t help smiling. “That sounds like LouAnn.”
“She was showing them pictures of her nieces. Tried for a second to pull me in. Apparently, there are three nieces.”
Oh no.
If Hayden is one of the men she’s targeting, I hope she’s being sensitive. He may not be ready to date yet. His wife left less than a year ago, and from what everyone says, he took it very hard.
I’m guessing the other one is probably Holden.
My stomach sinks.
“Well,” Brian says, loosening his suit jacket slightly, “Tea sounds perfect.”
While I’m pouring our drinks in the kitchen, I try not to think about Holden and LouAnn’s nieces. I especially try not to think about his stupid three-date rule. Or the fact that eventually, some woman will probably make him want to break it. That thought leaves an ache in my chest.
When I return to the table, Brian stands and pulls my chair out for me. Okay. That’s charming.
“Wow,” he says after his first sip. “You weren’t kidding. This tea is spectacular.”
I laugh softly. “LouAnn will be thrilled to hear that.”
We quickly move into discussing the bachelorette weekend plans. Eight women. Cocktail hour. Charcuterie boards. Homemade bread. A cooking class. Topped off with homemade cobbler at the end of dinner.
Brian leans back in his chair while I explain everything.
“You do realize this sounds incredible, right? It’s perfect.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I try. But you did also have me include literally every service we offer. So…”
His eyes linger on mine a second too long. Not creepy, just intense.
I clear my throat. “I should probably grab the quiche before LouAnn comes in and tells me I let it rest too long before cutting it. She’s very particular about her quiches.”
He laughs, and I escape to the kitchen.
The second I’m alone, I pull out my phone and text Georgie.
You need to get to LouAnn’s now. This man is gorgeous and ridiculously charming. Perfect for you.
Her response comes almost immediately.
Or maybe he’s for YOU.
Absolutely not. I’m happy being single.
Liar. I’ve seen the way you and Holden look at each other.
What? We don’t look at each other in any particular way.
Okay, whatever you say.
I stare at my phone for several seconds, and I have no response, so I shove it back into my pocket.
When I carry the food out, I nearly trip over my own feet when I see Brian. At some point while I was gone, he removed his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt.
Good Lord.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he says. “It’s unbearably hot today.”
“No, of course not. I’m mostly shocked you lasted this long.”
He grins.
By the time we’re halfway through eating, he’s moved his chair closer, and we’re shoulder to shoulder looking through furniture options on my tablet.
“Oh, definitely these,” Brian says, pointing to the exact tables I wanted.
“Yes!” I laugh. “That’s what I said. A friend disagreed.”
“Then your friend is wrong.”
We’re both laughing when the front door opens. I glance up, and every muscle in my body tightens.
Holden.
Hayden walks in beside him with LouAnn trailing behind, but I barely notice because Holden’s eyes lock on me.
And it’s immediately obvious when he notices Brian sitting close enough that our shoulders almost touch. His facial expression tightens, and he glares at Brian, who appears unaware of the venomous look aimed at him.
LouAnn cheerfully bustles toward the kitchen while Hayden says something to Brian about the bathroom renovation upstairs, but Holden never stops staring.
Brian, apparently oblivious, smiles at Hayden. “So did LouAnn successfully set either of you guys up with her nieces?”
I almost choke on my tea. No one answers. It’s the definition of awkward.
A few minutes later, Hayden leads Brian upstairs to see the suite renovation.
The second they disappear, Holden crosses the room and drops into the chair Brian just vacated.
Except he scoots it even closer.
My pulse kicks up, and I swear it becomes irregular.
“Who is he?” he asks.
“Nobody.”
His jaw tightens. “Didn’t look like nobody.”
“Oh my gosh, Holden. What is happening here?”
“What?” he says. “The guy was practically in your lap.”
“He’s a client.”
“A client eating off your plate?”
Okay, maybe Brian was acting too chummy when he took a bite of my food.
Heat rushes into my face. “That was not—”
“And sitting this close?” He drags Brian’s chair several inches away. “There. Better.”
I stare at him. “That’s ridiculous. And who are you to—”
“Don’t care.”
My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.
“Why does it matter to you?” I whisper. The question hangs there between us, unanswered.
His eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly, it’s extremely hot in here, and the air feels too thick to breathe.
Then quietly, almost roughly, he asks, “Is this a date?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
Relief flashes across his face so quickly I almost miss it.
“He’s booking a bachelorette weekend package for his sister,” I say. “That’s all.”
Holden leans back slightly, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. I’m so caught off guard and confused.
“Good.” That’s all he says, and he stands and steps back from the table, never releasing our eye contact. Who does he think he is?
Before I can respond, Hayden and Brian return, both laughing about something.
Brian pauses briefly when he notices the moved chair, one eyebrow lifting slightly, but he doesn’t comment. He simply pulls it back beside me again and sits down.
Holden’s jaw flexes.
“Well,” Brian says easily, “if you ladies send over the reservation confirmations and deposit invoices, I’ll get them back to you by tomorrow.”
“Works for me, sweetie,” LouAnn says.
The corner of Brian’s mouth lifts. “Perfect.”
Then he looks at me. “Is the email address you gave me the best way to reach you, or should I grab your number too?”
I hesitate only a second before handing him my phone.
The moment Brian takes it, I feel Holden’s stare again, but I refuse to glance his way.
Brian enters his number, sends himself a text, then hands my phone back.
“It was very nice meeting all of you,” he says as he stands.
His gaze flicks briefly toward Holden before returning to me. Then, instead of offering a normal goodbye, he reaches for my hand and holds it gently between both of his.
“I’ll be seeing you soon.”
And then he’s gone.
The tension in the room afterward is thick enough to cut with a knife.
I hear LouAnn furiously tapping on her phone.
“Who are you texting?” Hayden asks suspiciously.
“Ruthie,” LouAnn says innocently, though the grin on her face says otherwise.
Her gaze darts between Holden and me.
“Oh no,” Holden mutters. “Don’t start rumors. There’s nothing to talk about.”
Something painful twists in my chest at the words.
LouAnn arches a brow. “Well then, if there’s nothing to talk about, does that mean you’ll finally go out with my niece?”
“No,” Holden says flatly.
LouAnn smirks. “Not interested?”
His eyes shift to mine. Steady. Unwavering. Searing.
“No,” he says quietly. “I’m not.”
Oh. Well, there’s that, then.