by Olivia Miles
Henry raked a hand through his hair, and a lock spilled over his forehead. “I don’t suppose… Do you have plans for the day? I mean, you’re probably busy, but in case you’re not…” He blinked a few times.
Holy crap. Was he asking her out? Was he going to suggest lunch? Had nosy Mrs. Griffin managed to plant a few seeds in his mind—or worse, did he think he was doing her some favor after the pity the innkeeper had taken on her?
His jaw twitched as he stared at her. No pity to be found there.
A date. Was it possible? Her mind began to spin. What should she say? Yes, no? No, she would obviously say no. I mean, the man was Adam’s friend, and Adam was suing her.
“Why do you ask?” Smooth, Jane! Mentally, she fist-pumped, and she licked her lips to cover her smile of victory. She hadn’t known she had it in her, and she knew her sisters certainly didn’t think so, either. How many times had they prepped her for the dating scene, begging her to lose the jeans she’d personally thought were rather fashionable and the V-neck sweater that showed just enough cleavage for her comfort zone. She could still remember the look of horror on Grace’s face when Jane had shown up to the pub one Saturday night wearing a turtleneck sweater. But this? Grace would be so proud. Jane couldn’t wait to tell her.
She stopped herself. She wasn’t going to be telling her sisters anything, because there was nothing to tell. Henry was a friend, an old friend, and, okay, maybe a hot friend, too.
“I hate to even ask, but I promised Ivy I’d look after the shop and I’m sort of doing a hack job of it. You were so good with Mrs. Griffin. I just thought maybe you could…”
“Help?” Of course. He’d told her flat out that he wasn’t marriage material—what made her think he’d have any interest in a single mom going through a custody dispute with his old buddy? Still, she perked up a bit at the thought of spending more time with him, even though she knew she shouldn’t. The smart thing would be to keep her distance, get over this little… crush… and think of Henry as she only ever had. As a friend. That’s all they were.
“I’ll pay you,” Henry added quickly.
As if she needed more incentive. Jane smiled and reached out her hand. “Consider me hired.”
CHAPTER
13
She had a job for the day, and who knew, maybe it would lead to something more permanent. She should be happy, she should be elated, she should dig her to-do list out of her handbag and victoriously scratch off the first item. She should not be hiding in the back room of Petals on Main taking deep breaths and frantically swiping cherry ChapStick over her lips in the sad hope that enough layers would create a pop of color. She should not be wishing she had worn something other than these jeans her sisters always frowned at and this sweater, no matter how soft the angora or how cold the temperature. She should not be pinching her cheeks and wondering if Ivy kept mascara on hand.
Jane plucked one of Ivy’s aprons from a hook in the stock room and made a quick call to her mother to see if she was available to pick Sophie up from school.
The arrangements made, she cinched her apron strings a little tighter in a vain attempt to make her waist appear a bit slimmer over the sweater, grateful she’d left the turtleneck at home, and hesitated in the doorway of the shop. It was quiet, though no doubt a customer would arrive at any moment. It couldn’t be soon enough, frankly. She needed someone else to focus on, someone other than Henry and that grin that made her stomach flutter.
“Everything situated with Sophie?” Henry asked, coming into the doorway and startling her.
Jane pressed a hand to her chest and laughed to cover her surprise. “My mom’s going to take her over to the studio after school. I’ll meet her there.”
“I’m glad you’re pursuing your dance again.” His voice was low, his eyes intense, and Jane glanced to the floor. This wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, not with Henry. Not when he had been so insistent that she never give up ballet in the first place.
He was there when she was accepted to the dance academy, exactly five weeks after accepting Adam’s proposal. She couldn’t suppress her shock and joy, but she did a good job of masking her devastation in turning it down. Her heart wrenched as she read the letter aloud to Adam and Henry that night at the pub, a mix of pride and loss. It was her greatest accomplishment, a dream she had held since she first slipped on ballet slippers as a child, and one she relived night after night as she lay in her bedroom, staring at the posters of prima ballerinas that covered her floral wallpaper. She’d actually done it. All that hard work, all the years of training and discipline had paid off.
“That’s great, baby, but you’re going to tell them no, right?” Adam draped a lazy arm over her shoulder and took a long sip of his beer.
Jane had faltered, and then quickly composed herself. She knew she wouldn’t accept the spot, but somehow, hearing Adam dismiss it so easily, she wanted it more than ever. She glanced up to see Henry staring at her, his eyes crinkled in concern, or maybe disappointment, and she felt a wave of something like anger… or maybe it was shame.
She knew it wasn’t common to be engaged at eighteen anymore, but Adam was three years older and they’d been dating for years. Why wait?
“Because you have all the time in the world,” Henry had said the moment Adam went to feed the jukebox.
“He proposed to me,” Jane said, flipping her palm so her chip of a diamond was on full display. “We’re getting married, and I’m not going to break my promise to him.”
“Why don’t you take some time to consider it?” Henry had pressed. “You just got the letter today. It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it?”
Jane had to sit on her hands to still their trembling. She didn’t want to hear this, not one word. It was painful enough having to turn down the opportunity without him reminding her how much it meant to her. “What I want is to marry Adam.” She smiled.
Henry stared at her for a long moment and then finally shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, Jane.”
Something in his eyes, even then, told her he knew how it would all turn out. If only she’d had the same foresight.
Jane pushed past Henry into the flower shop and grabbed a rag from the wash sink. She scrubbed at some soil that had spilled onto Ivy’s prep station. “I’m not really pursuing my dance. I’m just teaching a few classes for the kids in town.”
Henry wandered over to her, and she caught a hint of his warmth, the soap on his skin. Her stomach tightened. She scrubbed a little harder. Soon, this table would positively shine. “Either way, I’m glad to see you dancing again. You always enjoyed it.”
“I do enjoy it.” Meeting his eye, her breath paused at the softness in his deep-set gaze. “It’s a wonderful job, really. Things have a real way of working out the way they’re meant to.” She crossed to the potted mums Henry was so focused on earlier, happy to have an excuse to keep her back to him. They needed a little tending, well, not really, but he wouldn’t know the difference.
“That’s optimistic even for you,” Henry remarked.
Jane’s heart was beginning to pound, but she refused to let him get to her. Staying strong was what she did best.
“What’s the alternative?” She glanced over her shoulder and forced a smile. “To fall victim to the circumstances of your life? To run away instead of letting the dust settle?”
Something in Henry’s expression shifted, and he lowered his gaze to the floor. “Suppose so.”
Jane brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand and moved on to the left wall of the room, where Ivy kept hundreds of beautifully scented candles, all locally made, stacked on wrought iron baker’s racks.
“So, what kind of classes do you teach at the studio? Ballet?”
Jane nodded. “The young ones are fun, but it’s rewarding to see the progress some of my older students are making.”
“What about adults?”
At this Jane laughed. “No, no adults.”
“You took a salsa class?” She couldn’t fight the smile that teased her mouth.
“Hey, I’ve got moves, Jane.” He set his hand on her hip and her heart seized in her chest. She froze, looking up at him in panic, but he just slipped her an easy grin and waited. Her shoulders rose and fell with each breath, until she realized he was trying to get around the counter and she was blocking his path.
She blinked rapidly, then shifted to the right, but he didn’t move, not right away. His eyes gleamed as his smile grew a little broader, and as he finally moved past her, his hand lingered on her hip, until it finally slid off.
This was going to be harder than she’d thought.
“Seriously, though,” he continued. “You should offer some adult classes. Salsa, ballroom…” He stopped, seeing the look on her face. “Why not?”
Jane tried to picture some of the local residents lining up to learn the tango and cringed. “I don’t think people around here would go for that sort of thing.”
“You’re the one who’s been trying to tell me Briar Creek has a lot more to offer than it seems.”
He had a point there. “We base our classes on enrollment, so—”
“Perfect. If people sign up, you have the class. Nothing lost in trying, is there?”
“Why, Henry, that’s very optimistic of you,” Jane replied. He matched her grin and held it, his smile boyish and slightly lopsided, and Jane felt a rush of heat spread over her. She wasn’t imagining it. There was definitely something there, something in the glint of his eyes that was anything but platonic.
Henry was flirting with her. Or maybe he was just having a little fun.
Whatever it was, she was putting a stop to it. This was nonsense! Her entire world was crashing down on her and here she was, getting caught up in sparkling blue eyes and a friendly grin?
Henry popped the lid on a delivery box and looked her square in the eye. “As a matter of fact, it is optimistic of me. What can I say? Maybe you bring out the best in me.”
Jane dismissed the compliment as nothing more than part of their banter, but the flutter in her heart lingered as she began dusting the shelves. Trying out a few new classes at the studio might be just the solution she was looking for.
Leave it to Henry to always unearth the obvious.
The shop picked up shortly afterward, leaving no time for a lunch break, much less conversation. Jane helped some women she knew select fall wreaths and planter fillers, while Henry manned the cash register and took telephone orders. For minutes on end, she could almost forget he was in the room, until she caught his laugh, or worse, his eye, and felt the immediate, involuntary tightening in her stomach. Tonight she’d go home and watch one of her favorite romantic comedies, just to remind herself that other attractive men did exist in this world, even if the actors, like Henry, were untouchable.
“Ivy certainly keeps busy,” Henry mused, as Jane untied her apron. She hung it on a hook on the wall and rubbed the back of her neck. A hot bath after class today would be just the thing. She couldn’t wait to get off her feet. First, though, she intended to talk to Rosemary about Henry’s suggestions.
“Will she be back tomorrow?” Jane inquired, hoping her inquiry sounded more casual than her motive. She hoped to talk to Ivy about part-time employment as soon as possible. Time wasn’t on her side, not if she wanted to show the judge she had some financial security in place.
“I’m not sure, honestly. She rarely gets a break, so I wanted to give her one while I’m in town.”
Jane tried to hide her disappointment as she reached for her peacoat. “How’s the house coming along?” She hadn’t been out that way since she and Adam had split last winter, but even then the Birch house was in severe disrepair and would most likely require a lot of work before it would be ready to list. And a lot of time, Jane mused, wondering just how long Henry intended to stick around. The inn couldn’t be cheap, and peak foliage was nearing—Briar Creek’s busiest tourist time, other than ski season.
Henry’s jaw pulsed, and Jane immediately regretted asking. It couldn’t be easy to say goodbye to your childhood house, even if you hadn’t been home in a while.
“It’s going to take a lot of work. I’ll be happy when it’s over and done with.” Henry’s voice was gruff. “In the meantime, I’m still forging ahead with the article on Briar Creek. If you can think of anything other than the usual I should feature, I’m all ears.” He frowned, seeming to think of something. “Does the dance studio still put on a show?”
Jane finished buttoning her camel coat and took a few deep breaths. If she answered honestly, it could get back to Adam that the studio was in trouble, and so was her job security. Wouldn’t that be just the ammunition he needed to make a case that Sophie was better off with him? “Auditions for The Nutcracker are next week,” she said diplomatically. Whether or not there would ever be a performance, however… She felt a dull headache come on.
Henry pulled a small spiral notepad from his back pocket and jotted something down. “Good to know. Tourists like that sort of thing.” Pausing, he reached back into his pocket and took out his wallet. “Before I forget.”
Jane stared at the wad of bills he held out to her and shook her head. She’d done the guy a favor, on behalf of Ivy really, and Ivy was her friend. A steady job was one thing, but this? As much as she could use the money, it felt too awkward. “It’s fine. I was happy to help.”
Eventually, Henry slid the money back into his wallet. “Let me repay you somehow, then.”
Jane’s heart lurched at the mere possibility he would suggest dinner or even coffee. She needed to leave, right away, before something was said that couldn’t be taken back. “I should go. I’ll be late.”
“Jane.” He reached out and took her arm. She stared at it—the big, thick fingers wrapped around her coat, not flinching, strong and steady in their purpose. She held her breath as she looked up into his eyes, feeling herself relax at the sight of that lazy smile, until he opened his mouth and then closed it, as if he was struggling with what he might say next.
Her heart began to clamor.
“You can feature Main Street Books in your article, if you’re really looking for a way to repay me. We’re still rebuilding in a way, and… it would probably help the cause.”
Henry dropped her arm, and she couldn’t help wishing he hadn’t. “Are you going to be okay?”
She stared at him, blinking back tears that suddenly prickled the back of her eyes at the warmness of his tone, and nodded over and over. From the way his mouth quirked downward, she could tell she hadn’t been convincing.
“Have you talked to Adam yet? Maybe you guys could work something out. He can’t be that unreasonable.”
Jane nailed him with a hard look. “Actually, yes, he can.” Her heart was beginning to pound with fresh anger and she cursed to herself under her breath. “I’m Sophie’s mother. I do everything for her. And he’s trying to take her away from me. I call that unreasonable. And cruel.”
“Sorry, I just meant—”
Jane held up a hand. She was getting angry with the wrong person. “I’m letting my attorney handle all communication. I don’t want to talk about this.” With you, she finished to herself. Henry was Adam’s oldest friend, and that type of history created a loyalty she didn’t have.
Henry let out a breath, nodding slightly. “Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” he offered, and something in the softness of his eyes made her almost think she could believe him.
“You’ve already helped,” Jane said, thinking of the suggestion for the adult dance classes she planned to run by Rosemary tonight. “With… um, getting my mind off things for the day.” And onto others…
“I’ll see you at the festival?”
Jane nodded as she ope
ned the door, realizing Henry’s question was more a statement. They’d see each other again, and next time, she’d have her emotions in check.
CHAPTER
14
Briar Creek’s annual Harvest Fest was, perhaps, Henry’s least favorite day of the year, with the exception of his birthday, his mother’s birthday, Christmas, and pretty much all of summer break. Holidays brought out the worst in his mother’s mood, and parties were for people who could enjoy them without having to worry they were giving more fodder to the gossip circles. There was a time when he envied the carefree way others could look forward to celebratory events, but now he knew those days were no different than any other. You only missed what you wished you had. And what he wished for in that moment was the cool, quiet solitude of his San Francisco high-rise. It was just what he needed to get his head straight.
Henry roamed his narrowed gaze over the town square. He walked along the perimeter, jotting notes as he went along, even snapping a few photos of the pristine white gazebo under the shade of a magnificent sugar maple tree. Red leaves scattered on its roof and stairs, where hay bales and barrels of red and orange mums had been set up.
Ivy was head of the decorating committee this year, something she admitted she’d been doing for the past three years. She certainly was invested in this town, he admitted.
“The decorations look great,” he said, coming up behind her at the donut stand. He eyed the half-eaten cider donut in her hand, about to ask about her sugar levels, but she beat him to it.
“I planned my entire day around this donut, Henry, so please don’t ruin it for me. I have it under control.”
Henry wanted to believe her, and he knew that he had no other choice. He ordered one for himself and fell into step beside her.
“Anything new with the house?” she asked.
“I called some contractors yesterday,” he told her. “They’re coming out next week to patch the roof and repaint the siding. They’ll start on the interior after that.”
