Except me.
Heat rushed into Holly’s cheeks. She tried to divert the attention by tugging her hair from its messy knot and retying it into a ponytail. With luck, no one would have noticed her sudden embarrassment.
A motion on the path ahead of them drew her attention. Peter had glanced back several times, and his pace had slowed. He kept looking at her and his stance seemed agitated, but if he were trying to say something, he would have to try it in English. Subliminal messages and telepathy were obviously not working.
The distance was too great to allow her to hear the conversation, but Aidan said something to his father, and Peter snapped back. Hurt flared across Aidan’s face. Instead of retreating into silence, he attacked, and the verbal spat became a full-out argument in the middle of the boardwalk.
Her face distressed, Debra hurried ahead.
Holly stopped walking, in part because she didn’t want to walk into that argument—whatever it was. Her odd compulsion to get tangled in Peter’s life had diminished with James’s arrival. She could think clearly again, and her conclusions no longer puzzled her.
She most definitely concluded that she had no desire to be a part of that argument. Debra shouted at Peter; Peter shouted back; and Aidan got several of his own jabs in. “Selfish bastard,” was flung around several times, and Holly didn’t know who it meant. Several angry looks from Debra, Peter, and Aidan flashed her way. Oh, God, what a mess. Did she really want to be a part of it?
She glanced at James, hoping he would have answers.
He shrugged and held out his hand.
Her heart thumped hard against her chest, accelerating, although God only knew why. What was holding hands compared to the tongue-tangling kisses she had exchanged with both Brandon and Peter earlier that day?
Nothing.
So why did she hesitate?
It was stupid to hesitate. She was overthinking it. James was a friend. Just a good friend.
She reached for his hand. In that instant, something clicked in her brain. It felt right.
Not just right. It felt simple, natural, and perfectly obvious.
Oh, damn. What was it supposed to mean?
With the dogs leading the way, Holly and James turned away from the family argument on the boardwalk and continued along the promenade. The weather was too chilly for ice cream, so James bought a bag of caramel-covered popcorn to share.
“Did you hear anything about your promotion yet?” Holly asked as she scooped out a handful of popcorn from the bag he held between them.
He shook his head.
“Did they tell you when you’d hear from them?”
“Whenever it opens up,” James said. “I put in the request about two years ago. I’m not hopeful it’s going to magically become available in the next week.” He shook his head. “I guess that’s the trade-off for living in a little town like Havre de Grace. Job opportunities are limited. There’s only one elementary school, only one high school. It’s not like you can move around much if a particular job doesn’t work out.”
“Why do you want to be the principal of the high school so badly? Is the pay any better?”
He shook his head. “Not appreciably so. I’ve also applied for other schools in the surrounding towns and school districts.”
She jerked to a stop and stared at him. “You’re leaving Havre de Grace?”
“I’m trying to find a different job.”
“I didn’t realize you hated being the principal of the elementary school that much.”
“I don’t hate it.”
“So why would you quit?”
He frowned and changed the topic. “Have you decided what you intend to do with your aunt’s inheritance? Do you plan to keep teaching? Will you keep living here?”
“I’m planning to use the Christmas break to decide.”
“Do you think you’ll finish out the school year, or quit in the new year?”
Holly’s brow furrowed. “What’s up with these questions? You almost sound like you’re trying to run me out of my job.”
James’s grip on her hand tightened, not that it had occurred to her to pull away. “I’m not,” he murmured.
“You do know there aren’t too many first-grade teaching jobs here in Havre de Grace.”
He nodded. “That’s exactly the problem.”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Just thinking aloud. Don’t worry about it.” He shook the half-empty bag of popcorn in front of her. “Here, have more.”
“Don’t think snacks can distract me.” She did, however, snag another handful of popcorn. “You’re more distracted than I’ve seen you in a while. What’s eating you?”
“Recently, I’ve wondered if I’ve been a fool to have allowed the lack of options to stop me.”
“Stop you from doing what?”
He stared down at their joined hands. “Asking you out.”
Holly blinked. In her mind, half-thoughts formed and then faded into a blur.
James continued, his voice pitched low. “I’ve been a fool, thinking that I had time, seeing how neither you nor I had options.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t date you. Not when you’re a teacher at my elementary school. It’s a standard policy; it applies to all schools in the district.”
Holly’s eyes widened. “Is that why you’ve been applying for other positions? You’re trying to get away from being my direct supervisor so that you could ask me out.”
James expelled his breath in a quiet sigh.
“You’ve been doing it for me?” Her voice quavered.
He said nothing.
“For two years? Why didn’t you say anything before this?”
“What exactly should I have said? Holly, I’d like to take you out on a dinner date, but before I do that, you need to quit your job, or I need to quit my job.”
“Oh.” She pressed her lips together. “I know we both love our jobs, but still, I would have wanted to know how you felt.”
“I tried to find a way out.”
“All the job applications…”
He nodded. “Nothing’s borne fruit yet. I don’t know if it ever will. It’s not as if there are an abundance of jobs around here.”
Holly’s hand tightened around his. “And why are you telling me this now?”
“Competition.” He smiled but his jaw tensed. “Peter. The lawyer, Brandon. Plus, it appears you may have options, even if I still don’t.” He stopped and took both her hands in his. “If you make a decision that changes our working situation, I’d like to date you.”
She swallowed hard. “James, I don’t know if I can do this. To quit my job or to expect you to quit yours for a relationship that may or may not work out in the long term seems so…drastic. I just don’t…can’t take risks like that.”
“That’s why I couldn’t ask it of you before, and I still can’t. But if your situation ever changes—”
“And what if I choose to leave Havre de Grace?”
James squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “Then it is what it is. Life doesn’t always work out.”
Holly stared down at their joined hands and then glanced at the two dogs—one who sat obediently by James’s side and the other who romped several hundred feet away. “Will you take Mojo from the twenty-third through the twenty-seventh? I have my date with Peter all day tomorrow, and then I’ll be out of town for the weekend.”
Regret flickered over his face but he nodded. “Sure.”
“And we’ll have dinner tonight, you and I.”
“We can’t date, Holly. It’s a small town. People talk.”
“It’s not a date. I’m taking my dog sitter out to dinner as thanks for watching Mojo.” She slung her arm through his and smiled up at him. “Fancy some Mexican food?”
Chapter 10
The night wind had a crisp bite, but Holly did not feel cold as she walked beside James. The dogs trotted on either side of them. Even Mojo seemed to behav
e, although Holly knew enough to attribute it to exhaustion rather than obedience. She and James had worn the dogs out with a long game of fetch in the park before heading to dinner at El Jalapeno. They had enjoyed relaxed conversation over a meal of burritos and enchiladas, before sharing a sopaipilla dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with honey.
As she chatted with James, Holly did not worry about stepping on ancient personal landmines as with Peter. Unsettled anxiety, such as she felt over how Brandon, a sophisticated man of the world, perceived a small-town girl like her, did not pluck at her. Her relationship with James was simple, as it had always been. The underlying current of his attraction to her did not and could not upset that perfect equilibrium of their relationship.
Should it have?
The thought nagged at her as they strolled toward her house. Wasn’t love supposed to be heralded by choirs of angels or shivers of desire? Perhaps what she felt for James was merely friendship, not love. If so, perhaps she should tell him—no—something in her shrank instinctively. It wasn’t just premature; it was ridiculous to overstep the situation. For all she knew, their professional situation might never change and their relationship might never progress beyond friendship.
More importantly, she couldn’t bring herself to quench the subdued hope in his eyes.
“Are you going to be all right?” James asked as they turned the corner and her house came into view.
She did not understand the reason for his question until she followed his gaze to her front porch. Peter sat outside on the wooden rocking chair, a scowl on his face.
Anxiety flicked through her, but irritation was stronger. Somehow, James’s presence had stiffened her spine. “I’ll be fine. You have a good night. I’ll bring Mojo over early tomorrow.”
He nodded, but did not walk away.
Peter stood up. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked his heel against the wooden floorboards. “Hey,” he said gruffly. A half smile tugged up at the corner of his lips.
Holly glanced over her shoulder and nodded at James. Only then did he depart with Lucy at his heels.
“Hey,” Holly echoed. She reached into her bag for her keys but did not open the door.
“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”
“I don’t know, Peter. It seems to me you’re making lots of assumptions about us.”
His grin melted into a frown. “Assumptions about us? When was inviting someone into your house something more than basic courtesy here in Havre de Grace?”
“When I haven’t decided what I want.”
“Damn it, woman. When did you become high maintenance? It’s like walking on eggshells around you—never knowing what’s going to set you off. Less than four hours ago, you were talking about being a family.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Like hell it wasn’t.” Peter grabbed her arm. “We would have had sex on your couch if Debra hadn’t called at that damn moment. You were thinking of me as family when we walked out of here, and now you’re playing the frosty, hard-to-get card? This isn’t a game, Holly.” He glanced sharply in the direction James had gone. “It’s him, isn’t it? The principal of your school? Does the superintendent know you’re out walking with him?”
“When the superintendent starts to give a damn about who I walk Mojo with, then we’ll tell him. Otherwise, it’s really none of his business.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got the hots for him.”
“What part of ‘it’s not your business’ don’t you get?”
“When you’re my girl.”
She yanked her arm out of his. “I’m not your girl. You lost me eight years ago when you fucked my best friend and got her pregnant.” The crudeness of her language jolted through her, but it wasn’t enough to stop her tirade.
“You’d never have known if she would have just aborted the baby like I told her to.”
Holly’s jaw dropped. “You tried to get her to abort Aidan?”
“Damn right, and she refused. Said we should tell you instead.” His upper lip curled into a sneer. “Maybe she thought you’d understand. I knew better.”
“Maybe she expected you to stand by her.”
“Debra knew it was never about her. I loved you. I love you still. Why is that so hard to understand?” He shook his head. The gesture reminded Holly of a wild horse, beautiful and free, tossing its mane. “I need you to forgive me.”
She stared at him, the fog in her mind finally clearing. “I do forgive you.”
He jerked his head up and stared at her. A smile curved his lips. “I knew…I always knew we’d be together. We can move out of Havre de Grace, and with your money, we’ll be able to afford a nice place in Baltimore. You’d love the Inner Harbor; perhaps a condo with a view of the water—”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself again.”
“The future is calling us, Holly. We’ve lost so much time.”
“We?” She inhaled. “Forgiveness isn’t love, Peter.”
“But this afternoon—”
“I was grasping for the past.”
“I’m not your past. I’m your present. Your future.”
“You’re not my present. You’re not Debra’s present, or even Aidan’s. You’re not around unless you are trying to grab something out of the situation.”
Peter frowned, his brow furrowing. “That’s not fair. I’m around for the people who matter to me, like you.”
“Aidan is your son. He needs to matter to you. You have a responsibility to him that doesn’t go away just because you don’t like his mother.”
“Damn it, Holly. It’s not your place—”
“Like hell, it isn’t. As old friends, I’m calling you out on bullshit. As your love interest, I’m saying you scare me.”
“What?” Peter pressed a hand against his chest. “I scare you?”
“Yes. What happens if one of us has to travel and is away from home for two weeks? Like the last time.”
“I’ll never cheat on you.”
She shook her head. “What happens if our marriage falls apart—?”
“It won’t.”
“Marriages fall apart all the time. Will you be as callous to our children as you are to Aidan?”
He looked stricken. “Holly, you know it’ll be different.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“I’ve changed,” he murmured.
“And unfortunately I have too.”
“What does that mean?”
Holly’s shoulders sagged on a sigh. “I won’t deny the old spark is still there, but physical attraction and even great sex isn’t enough for me. I need more.”
“I love you.”
“I need more than love.”
“Security? But you have that in your aunt’s inheritance. Why would you need or want any man to provide you security?”
Had Peter always been that dense? How could she have failed to notice it? “No one can promise financial security, but I’m looking for trust, respect, faithfulness.”
His face tightened. “And you don’t think I can give these to you?”
“You haven’t thus far. What guarantee do I have that you can?”
He took her hands in his. “Life has no guarantees.”
“Of course not, but nowhere does it say we have to make bad gambles on poor odds.”
“You think I’m poor odds? How is that principal any better? He can’t even date you without jeopardizing his job or yours.” Peter blinked. “It’s not him. It’s someone else. Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Who is it?”
“He’s a lawyer. My aunt’s lawyer. I’m going up to New York to see him on the twenty-fourth, and I’ll be there over the weekend.”
His hands tensed against hers. “That’s crazy. You don’t even know him.”
“I could make the argument I don’t know you either,” she said. “The way you snapped at your son just because you were irritated that I was sp
eaking to James—”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what was it? Tell me, Peter? Your juvenile displays of jealousy don’t do it for me anymore. Maybe they worked when I was younger. Maybe they could still work on a younger person, but I don’t need a man to be jealous over me. I want a man who trusts me to respect him and be faithful to the relationship we have.”
“And you won’t give me a chance but you’ll give a lawyer you scarcely know—”
“I gave you a chance.”
“So you’ll come out with me tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “You had a chance every time I agreed to see you, including this afternoon.”
Anger flared in his eyes. “But—”
“I was prepared to go out with you tomorrow, Peter, but then you were waiting at my door, evidently geared up to play the part of the jealous lover. I don’t like it. Too many warning signs; it scares me.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I want you to leave.”
“You can’t throw me out. I’ve been waiting eight years for you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Celibate for eight years. Somehow, I doubt that.”
His cheeks reddened, obvious even in the dim porch light. “Emotionally—”
“Emotional fidelity is a lie men tie themselves to to feel better about physical infidelity. Emotional faithfulness isn’t worth anything to me. It doesn’t make physical infidelity any easier to take.”
“So you haven’t forgiven me.”
Holly sighed. “Yes, I have, but I’m not going down that path again. Good night, Peter.” She turned her back on him and let herself into her house, but she did not relax until she shut and locked the door on his furious, narrow-eyed gaze.
Chapter 11
Mojo’s loud barks woke Holly the next day. He jumped on the bed and pranced until the bed sheets twisted into tangle, before leaping off and scrambling down the stairs.
In between his barks, she thought she heard a knock on the door.
Blearily, she stared at the alarm clock on her bedside table. If it was Peter— She scowled, grabbed the robe at the foot of her bed, and wrapped it around her nightshirt. She would tell him a thing or two about respecting a woman’s wishes. Holly stomped down the stairs and flung the door open. Her jaw dropped. “James.”
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