Chapter Forty-Eight
Lizzie
“Holden, how come you’re not a dad?”
Simon’s words are innocent, but shocking. Shocking enough that I spit my coffee out across the bakery countertop.
On the other side of the room, Holden remains cool as a cucumber while he continues his checker game with Simon.
“Well, I guess because I wasn’t lucky enough yet,” he answers.
I’m glad he went that route. I don’t need to try to explain procreation to my six-year-old.
“So, it’s not ‘cause you don’t want to be one? A dad, I mean?”
I freeze.
With my gaze pinned on them, I don’t miss that Holden’s shoulders tense a bit. But if he’s feeling any angst about the question, his face doesn’t show it. However, he does lean back in his seat and fold his hands together.
“No, of course not. I’d love to be a dad. I hope I will be one day.”
Simon watches Holden, studying his face for several long seconds. Then he returns his gaze to the checkerboard and makes his next move.
“You’d be a good dad,” Simon says the words so quietly that I almost miss them.
My breath catches. My heart races.
Holden remains calm and smooth as butter.
“Thanks, buddy. I hope so.”
And then they continue playing checkers like they didn’t just have the most tender conversation.
Twenty minutes later, I’m in the kitchen scrubbing cookie sheets when Simon bursts open the swinging door between here and the front of the store.
“Ruthie and Lester are here, Mom. We’re ready to go!”
I smile at him and reach for a towel to dry my hands.
With excitement radiating off him, you’d think they were going to a magical amusement park or something instead of the drive-in theater.
Before I can respond, he disappears again.
I’m hanging up the towel when Ruthie comes through the doorway Simon just vacated.
“You got any of those peanut butter cookies you make hidden around here?” Ruthie asks as she walks over to my fridge and peeks inside.
I chuckle.
Some might find her comfort level with rummaging around my refrigerator intrusive. I don’t mind. The familiarity she treats me with comforts me.
“Yes, but they’re over in the container on the island along with the sugar cookies.”
Ruthie pulls her head out of the refrigerator and closes the door. She tilts her head.
“You put them in a separate container this time, right? Can’t have sugar cookies smellin’ like peanut butter.”
I grin and retrieve the two containers of snacks I packed. I hold them up so she can see they’re separate.
“Please just make sure they eat the apple slices I packed before they get cookies, okay?”
Ruthie rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah, yeah. You’re really trying to kill the cool aunt vibe I got going on, aren’t you?”
“Cool aunt or cool grandmo—”
“Uh-uh.” She wags a finger at me. “Don’t you dare say grandmother. I’m not old enough to be the grandmother type. Now let’s go.”
I hold back my laughter. She must’ve conveniently forgotten that she’s in her seventies because she’s definitely old enough to be a grandmother. She gets to the door before me and has one hand on it, poised to push it open.
“Hey, did you ever retrieve your knickers from under the island?”
I freeze.
“W-what?”
“Don’t play coy with me, girl. I kicked ‘em under there that day we all walked through while you and Holden were getting busy somewhere in the back. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I’m speechless. Mortified. My eyes are so wide I’m worried they’ll pop out of their sockets.
Ruthie cackles as she turns and pushes the door open.
“Grandmother...” she mutters under her breath.
After a second of staring after her, I follow. When I enter the store side, Layla comes flying toward me and wraps her arms around my waist in a wonderful hug.
“Hi, Lizzie!”
I chuckle as I hug her back. Today, I’m really feeling like a part of this new family that I’ve found.
“Hi, sweetheart. Are you excited to go to the drive-in?”
“Yeah! Lester says in the olden days, this was the way they had to watch movies. Not inside. Weird, huh?”
“Hey, Ladybug,” Lester calls.
Layla releases me and turns toward him.
“I never said olden days. I said when Ruthie and I were kids.”
“Yeah, that’s the olden days.” Layla turns to Holden. “Tell them I’m right, Uncle Holden.”
Holden tosses his hands up in front of him. “Oh, no. I’m not getting involved in this discussion.” He runs his fingers across his lips as if to zip them.
“All right, are we ready?” Ruthie asks.
The kids’ excitement is palpable, and it feels good. Downright good.
A few minutes later, everyone is gone except Holden and me, and we’ve locked up the front and back doors.
He tugs me close and wraps me in his arms. We stand like that for a while, and part of me never wants to let go. But then my stomach growls. Roars is more like it.
Holden pulls back and peers down at me. “I guess that’s a sign we should start our dinner date.”
I love how easily he makes me smile.
“Yes, we should.”
I take his hand, and we head over to the event space.
“Tonight we’re making chicken paprikash,” I say.
“Ooh. You know that’s one of my favorites.”
Holden and I have found that we really enjoy cooking together.
All those times cooking and taste-testing as I perfected options for the classes turned out to be wonderful opportunities to get to know each other again in a low-pressure setting.
“Are you sure you want to cook here? I’m happy to take you anywhere you’d like to go.”
“This has become my favorite place to eat.”
“Yeah?” He’s smiling. He surprises me when he puts his hands on my waist and lifts me onto the island. Then he moves between my legs and kisses me.
“I like when we’re face to face like this,” he whispers.
If eyes could smile, that’s what I’d describe his as doing right this moment. I feel warm inside.
“Me, too.”
He trails the pad of his thumb along my lower lip and then leans down and places a soft kiss on the side of my mouth.
“Tell me why it’s your favorite place to eat.”
How does this man make anything he says sound sexy?
“Because we spent a lot of time together here, and it helped us fall back in love.” My words are hushed. I’m not embarrassed. I feel exposed.
“That’s only sort of true.” He leans in again and plants a kiss on my neck near my ear. “Because I never stopped loving you. I just needed to remember how much.”
Before I realize I’m doing it, my hands are in his hair, and I stretch my neck to give him better access to my skin.
He covers the sensitive flesh of my throat with soft kisses, and by the time he makes it back to my lips, I’m desperate with need.
“Holden.” His name comes out somewhere between a whisper and a moan, and it must do something to him because, in a second, we become wrapped up in the hottest, yet most emotionally charged kiss I’ve ever experienced.
“I love you. So much that sometimes when I look at you, or even think about you, I forget to breathe.”
His words are a balm for my heart and soul.
“I love you, too. When I think about how much, it scares me.”
He pulls back and brushes my loose hair behind my ear. His eyes search my face.
“Scares you?”
I bite my lower lip and nod. “I’m afraid of how exposed I feel. What if Landon finds a way to ruin this again? I’d be devastated. And Simon, God, he already—”
He kisses me, then pulls back. “Sorry, I had to stop you from going further down that path. I need you to hear this.”
He cups both sides of my face. “I promise that you don’t need to worry about Landon Carter now, or ever again. I’m taking care of that.”
“How?”
“I’ll explain in a couple of minutes. First, I don’t want you to be afraid of anything. You’re wrapped as tightly around my heart as I am yours. I’m all in.” He kisses me. “I’m not leaving.” One more kiss. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.” And another. “Trust me on this, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll try. Just be patient with me, please.”
“I will. If you need me to remind you every day for the rest of our lives what you mean to me, I’ll happily do it.”
Holden glances to the side for a few seconds, then peers at me again.
“Simon, God, now he scares me.”
He pauses and tilts his head upward, staring at the ceiling. He blows out a long breath, then returns his gaze to me. His eyes are glassy.
“I love that little boy, Lizette.”
My heart races.
“I don’t even know when it happened. And today, when he asked if I wanted to be a dad, my heart pounded in my chest, and I had to stop myself from telling him how much I want to be his dad.”
I gasp, and his eyes widen.
“I’m sorry—”
“You do? You want to be his dad?” My voice is thick with emotion.
“I do. Of course I do. Who wouldn’t? I want to be his dad, and I want to be your husband. I’d marry you today if you were ready.”
I cast my gaze downward.
“You don’t mean that.”
He places a finger under my chin and lifts it until our eyes meet again.
“I absolutely do mean that. I want to marry you, Lizette. I want our forever.”
And that’s when my stomach interjects again, this time with a thunderous growl.
We stare at each other until laughter erupts from both of us. When we finally settle down, he leans in and kisses my forehead.
“Let’s cook,” he suggests.
We work side by side to make the paprikash, and it’s tremendously relaxing. While it bakes, I sip a glass of wine, and Holden drinks a craft beer.
As Holden raises the bottle to take a drink, I blurt out, “I want to marry you, too.”
He freezes, then slowly lowers the bottle from his mouth. His smile melts me.
“Yeah?”
I nod vehemently. “And Simon would be lucky to have you for a dad. I mean, when, and if, you’re ready at some point.”
He leans toward me, but when he’s just inches away, the timer on the oven goes off.
“Ugh,” he groans. “We should just let it burn.”
* * *
“Will you take a walk with me?” Holden stands and extends his hand to me.
“Uh, I’ll try, but I’m so full you just might have to roll me along.”
“I can carry you,” he offers.
“Uh, no. I’ll manage.” I smile up at him. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
A minute or two later, we’re on the sidewalk, holding hands and walking around the town square. It’s idyllic. The only thing that would make it better is if Simon were with us.
When we’ve made it across to the other side of the square, Holden stops directly in front of one of the empty shops Landon is soon to own. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. He holds it out to me, and I grasp it.
“Landon Carter can’t hurt Sugar ‘n Spice.”
I’m so confused.
“Open the box, Lizette.”
I lift the lid and stare at the ring of keys inside. I glance up at Holden.
“I don’t understand. Landon made an offer on these properties.”
Holden has his hands in his pockets and leans back on his heels.
“I made a better one.”
I can’t pull my eyes away from his. He did this? “You bought the properties?”
“I did.”
“So, you own them? Not Landon?”
“I do. Well, we do. I plan to put your name on the deed when you’re my wife, but for now, I had Harrison set it up so if anything happens to me, you inherit it.”
My mouth falls open. “You did this for me?”
He nods, and his eyes pierce mine. “I’d do anything for you. Anything. I want to take care of you and Simon. Not because you can’t take care of yourself. I know you can. But you shouldn’t always have to.”
I fly into his arms and wrap myself around him as best as I can, but I can’t get close enough. His strong arms circle me, and I feel so many emotions all at once.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I whisper.
His hand cups the back of my head, and he strokes my hair.
“You deserve to feel safe and secure, and this is part of how I plan to make sure you do.”
As I process his words, something strikes me. I loosen my hold on him so I can see his face.
“Part?” I whisper. “You said ‘part.’ Is there more?”
Holden closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then opens them again. “Any chance you’d forget I said that?”
I shake my head.
“I didn’t think so.” He hesitates for a few seconds before speaking again.
“This is the part that keeps him from touching your business. Tomorrow, I take care of the rest.”