by Lucy Score
“Welcome to Villa Harvest.” Their server was a shaggy-haired bean pole.
“Rupert, when did you start working here?” Eden asked. Rupert was the famously terrible waiter at John Pierce Brews—and Sunny’s on again off again boyfriend. Emma Vulkov, brewery manager, had fired and rehired him twice now.
Rupert brushed his sheepdog bangs out of his eyes. “Oh, hey, Eden.” His voice belonged to a 1990s California surfer. “I’m picking up a couple of shifts here every week. Emma needs some space from me sometimes.”
“Ah,” Eden said. Rupert stared at her expectantly for a long beat.
Davis cleared his throat. “Do you have any specials tonight?”
“Oh, sure.” Rupert dug his notebook out of his back pocket. “You want to hear them again?”
“Or for the first time,” Davis said amicably. He shot Eden a look that said they’d be lucky to get the food they ordered before the restaurant closed.
She squeezed his thigh under the table again, and Davis reflexively hit the bottom of the table with his knee.
Rupert didn’t notice and carefully read off the night’s specials. “So, I’ll go ahead and put in your appetizer. And I’ll give you a few minutes with the menus,” he said as he tried to grab the menus from the table.
Davis wrestled one away from him. “We’ll just hang on to this one. You know, so we can order dinner.”
“Oh, sure.” Rupert wandered away.
“What appetizer did we order?” Eden asked.
“We didn’t.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, as he slid toward the edge of the booth.
“I’m going to the bar to get us drinks. If we wait for Rupert, we’ll be dehydrated skeletons.”
“I’ll take the biggest glass of wine you can carry,” Eden told him.
“Anything your heart desires, beautiful.” Davis said it loud enough that the Beautification Committee members lifted their heads above their menus like prairie dogs.
The flush that tinged Eden’s cheeks was by no means scripted.
She studied the menu and traced a finger over the tablecloth to calm her nerves. Her phone buzzed in her purse and Eden jumped at the distraction.
Sammy: How did I miss the fact that you’re dating Davis Gates????
Her text included a screenshot of a post from the Blue Moon Facebook group. It was Eden and Davis staring deeply into each other’s eyes posted approximately two minutes earlier. The damn Blue Moon grapevine.
Eden: Long story. We’re revenge dating.
Sammy: Is this like when you spite dated Ramesh Goldschmidt for half of junior year?
Eden winced. After the disastrous HeHa dance, she’d dated Ramesh until Davis left for college that summer. She’d ended up liking the guy. Just not as much as she would have liked Davis. It was not one of her finest moments. He’d dumped her gently for Windy Jones, who wouldn’t have given him the time of day had he not spent six months in a relationship with Eden. They had married, moved to Buffalo, and ran a thriving orthodontist practice together. So she considered her karmic debt paid.
Eden: I’ll explain later. It involves the B.C. BTW, you’re next on their list.
Sammy: The HELL I am!
Eden smirked and stuffed her phone back in her clutch. It was always funnier when someone else was the target of the Beautification Committee’s machinations.
23
Davis returned to the table with two glasses and a bottle of Blue Moon Cabernet Sauvignon. “I had to fight my way through the crowd,” he said, dropping back onto the booth beside her. “It seems like Rupert has a lot of tables tonight.”
Eden laughed loud and long. “Oh, Davis, you’re sooooo funny.”
He looked at her like she was losing her damn mind.
“Just play along,” she hissed. “They’re eating it up. We’ve already made the Facebook group.”
“You really commit, don’t you?” he asked.
Eden straightened her shoulders so defensively her neck cracked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why in the hell would that piss you off?” Davis countered.
She shrugged it off and sipped. “Sorry. Reflex. I’m used to being pissed off at everything that comes out of your mouth. Please elaborate, and I promise not to bite your head off.”
“Depending on what our appetizer is, that might still be a danger,” Davis said, raising his glass to hers.
Eden squashed the eyeroll.
He laughed softly, and the sound of it rolled through her belly.
“I only meant that you put a lot of effort into everything you do. You’re not just an innkeeper. You go out of your way to find out what a visitor’s favorite chocolate is and then leave it on their pillow. You tailor your snacks to guest preferences. You hand draw maps of Blue Moon for guests and circle the places you think they’ll really enjoy.”
“That’s just being a good businessperson,” Eden argued. “You do the same thing with the winery. You’re constantly listening and adjusting and learning so you can be better.”
He drummed his fingers on the table cloth. “I like that you’re as obsessed with work as I am.”
She flushed, the compliment meaning more to her than any comment on her appearance. The Lunar Inn was her life. She’d breathed life into it and spent every waking moment trying to ensure every guest had the best possible experience. “I have a lot to prove,” she admitted, thinking back to those five minutes that had defined her to an entire town.
“Believe it or not, I know how you feel. The only way my father was willing to relinquish control of the winery was by being forced into it with a heart attack. I want to prove to him that I am capable of not just matching his success, but taking our business to the next level.”
“That might be something I find attractive in you, too,” she admitted. “Your dedication to work. A lot of people just go to work and come home and forget about it until the next morning. You and me? We live it.”
Davis clutched at his chest. “Did Eden Moody just admit to finding me attractive?”
She did roll her eyes now. “Don’t let it go to your head, Gates.”
He leaned in to her, her body uncomfortably aware of the proximity of his mouth. And she thought he might kiss her. And it might mean something besides revenge and painting a pretty picture for their audience. Her lips parted, eyes locking in on his mouth. She could feel the heat from his body as it caressed her face.
“Well, don’t you two look gorgeous together?” Summer and Carter Pierce stopped next to their table.
Eden jumped back against the booth in flustered surprise.
Speaking of gorgeous, the Pierces were a stunning blend of Summer’s urban chic and Carter’s rough-around-the-edges, earthy sex appeal. Carter’s arm was slung possessively around his wife’s slim shoulders.
“Date night?” Eden asked.
“Jax lost a bet and had to take the twins for the night,” Carter said with a quick grin under his thick beard.
Carter and Summer were parents to two-year-old twins, who were as cute as they were mischievous.
Summer slid into the booth across from them tugging Carter with her. “Listen. I just wanted to say how happy I am for you guys. I know there’s been a lot of bad blood between your families over the years, and it’s really beautiful to see you two so happy.”
“And sorry for crashing your dinner,” Carter added wryly.
Summer wrinkled her pert nose at him and cuddled into his side. “As an old married lady, it just makes me so happy to see you two together. I think the whole town has been waiting for this for a long time. So, what are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?”
Eden blinked. She knew Summer well enough. The woman had been a Mooner for three years and had apparently embraced the nosy neighbor residency requirement. She was stylish and smart and head over heels in love with Carter. Eden found it hard to believe that Summer Pierce, let alone the entire town of Blue Moon, could be so invested in this fake relati
onship.
Rupert appeared before Eden or Davis could respond and dropped off three bowls of minestrone soup.
Eden and Davis shared an eyeroll. “Look, dear. Our appetizer,” Eden laughed.
“He was our waiter, too,” Carter told them. “You might want to deliver your dinner order directly to the kitchen.”
Eden had just dipped her spoon into the soup when Summer spoke up again. “So, as I was saying, Thanksgiving?”
“Oh, well. My parents are out of town,” Eden began.
“My family is still on the west coast,” Davis added.
“We were probably just going to do something quiet…” Eden trailed off, looking to Davis for help. Did newly dating couples spend the holidays together? What was the protocol?
“We’re hosting a progressive dinner at the farm. Drinks at Jax and Joey’s, dinner at our place, and desserts at Phoebe and Franklin’s,” Summer told them, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“That sounds like fun,” Eden said, thinking back to her family’s last Thanksgiving. Her dad had burned the tofurkey, and the pumpkin pie hadn’t set. After dinner, Atlantis’s kids had hosted a screaming contest in the living room.
“You’re more than welcome to join us,” Carter put in stretching his long legs into the aisle.
“You should come,” Summer said, more insistently.
“Oh, I, uh.” Eden looked at Davis. A fake relationship was one thing. Faking their way through an entire holiday with members of the Beautification Committee in attendance was something else.
“We were just planning something quiet,” Davis began.
“I’ll have Joey text you and tell you what to bring,” Summer said triumphantly despite the fact that no one had uttered the words “yes, we’d love to come.”
“Oh, but…” Eden’s protests fell on deaf ears. She elbowed Davis in the ribs.
“We couldn’t impose like that,” he coughed.
“It’s the opposite of an imposition,” Summer insisted. “The crowd is so big, it’s literally the more the merrier. And I’d just hate to think of you two alone on Thanksgiving.” She looked up at her husband. “Shall we get back to our quiet, child-free house?”
The look Carter gave his wife was positively sinful.
“It was great seeing you,” Carter said as he scooted out of the booth and took Summer’s hand.
“Can’t wait for Thanksgiving,” Summer said without tearing her eyes from Carter. They jogged out of the restaurant like two horny teenagers with the keys to the car.
“Uh, what the hell just happened?” Eden asked.
“I think we just got invited to the Pierce family Thanksgiving,” Davis said, stirring his minestrone.
“I was going to stay home and eat pizza in my pajamas while binge watching Gilmore Girls,” Eden complained. She had guests booked for the holiday, but they were all repeat visitors in town to see family and would require very little attention from her. Thanksgiving with her parents traveling would have been a much appreciated, quiet day off.
“I was going to work on some ad mockups for the wine trail and scan some expense receipts,” Davis grumbled.
His nerdiness eeked the attraction factor up another notch.
Eden sighed. “I don’t know if our fake love can hold up to the scrutiny of the family that accounted for most of Wilson Abramovich’s engagement ring sales for the last three years.”
24
“Well, crap. How are we supposed to rub our fake relationship in Blue Moon’s face if there aren’t any Mooners here?” Eden pouted.
Their big movie date was a bust. Besides the elderly ticket taker and the baby-faced snack stand staffer, the entire theater was empty. There was no one present to witness and report on their canoodling.
“I guess everyone must be at the high school basketball game,” Davis speculated.
Eden frowned down at her fresh popcorn. “Maybe we should just call it a night? Try to be a public spectacle when we have an actual audience?”
They’d gone out on the town three out of the last four nights, working hard to sell their romantic relationship. His social life had never been this active. A quiet night in would involve them going to their separate rooms. Davis looked her up and down in the dim theater lighting, pausing to admire the way the ice blue V-neck sweater hugged her subtle curves.
He finally had Eden Moody all to himself. He wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.
“If we leave now, Snack Stand Toby will report it,” he said, leading the way down the aisle. “Everyone will start speculating that we got into a fight—because what new couple doesn’t want an entire theater to themselves? And then the Beautification Committee will worry that this isn’t the slam dunk match they think it is.”
He picked a row, paused, and gestured for her to enter first. Eden hesitated. And Davis wondered if she was nervous about being so close to him in such an intimate setting. It was an idea he didn’t mind.
“You go first,” she insisted. “I like to sit on the aisle.”
Everything was a power play with Eden, but Davis considered her agreeing to watch a movie alone in the dark with him a bigger victory.
Ever since she’d kissed him that first time at Peace of Pizza he’d been able to think of little else. She’d caught him by surprise as had the kiss itself. That supposed fake lip lock had unlocked a very real hunger in him. And blown every teenage fantasy he’d ever had out of the water.
Davis waited until Eden settled in next to him before sliding his arm around her shoulders. She tensed against him. “There’s no one here,” she pointed out.
Yep. And he was going to take advantage of that fact. Davis was pretty damn sure one of his more colorful Eden-centered fantasies in high school had involved an empty movie theater.
“Someone could walk in late. This way we make sure they get the happy couple picture,” he told her.
“Hmm.” She remained unconvinced, but Davis was feeling particularly persuasive today.
With what he took as reluctance, Eden offered him her popcorn bag.
He took a handful and lazily stroked his free hand over the softness of her sweater sleeve.
“Have a good day?” Davis asked.
“Uh. Yeah,” she said, giving him the side-eye.
“What? You don’t want to make small talk?” he teased. “Just pretend I’m one of your guests.”
Eden cleared her throat. “I’m not actually used to talking to someone every day. This whole ‘dating’ thing is kind of weird. I mean, we talked yesterday when we went for custard and checked out the high school art show. And the day before that was our dinner date. More talking.”
“You can’t be that rusty at dating,” Davis pressed.
She crinkled her nose. “It’s been a while since I’ve dated anyone seriously… or fakely. What about you? Were you Mr. Monogamous Relationships before you moved back?”
It was his turn to clear his throat. “I dated. Had a handful of long-termish relationships, but nothing that ever felt serious.”
“What about since you moved back?” Eden wasn’t pretending to look at the blank screen anymore. She was staring right at him.
“You mean before you swept me off my feet?”
“Har. Har.”
He grinned at her. “Dating in Blue Moon is… difficult,” Davis decided.
“It totally is,” she agreed. Davis felt like he’d won big on a scratch-off. They agreed on something. “I’ve actually never dated anyone from town since high school. Everyone’s always—”
“Watching,” he filled in.
“Yeah. It’s hard to focus on being funny and smart and charming and girl-next-door-y when an entire town is watching your every move, waiting for you to get your feelings hurt and damage some personal property again.”
He shifted in his seat. “I hope you don’t feel that people are still judging you on that.”
“My mug shot ran in The Monthly Moon. Your parents still call me Vandali
sm Moody every time they see me. And rumor has it that same mug shot hangs in your tasting room so your employees know not to serve me.”
Davis shook his head. “I took it down my first day back. And my parents are professional grudge-holders. You can’t take it personally. Someday, I’ll tell you the story of the Cleary department store clerk who dared to refuse my mother’s expired coupon.”
Eden smiled wryly and he knew there was more to her feelings than what she’d grudgingly shared.
He leaned in just a little closer. “You know what I just realized?”
She ran her tongue over her lower lip. “What?” she asked softly.
“You’re literally the girl next-door. I’m living every guy’s fantasy right now.”
Brave and ballsy Eden Moody was suddenly staring into her popcorn as if it were the most fascinating food in the universe. She took in a breath and blew it out. And then she was drawing herself in, behind those tall walls she’d built because of him.
“So, do you think the Beautification Committee is trying to frame me or was that just a really unlucky byproduct? Because if I’m being investigated for arson, wouldn’t it be harder for you to fall madly in love with me?” she asked, changing the subject.
The mention of the fire had his eye twitching in response. Sometimes he forgot why they were doing what they were doing. Sometimes he got caught up in the smiles and the intimate touches without thinking about their primary objective. The absolute irresponsibility of using arson in matchmaking… well, it was imperative that they dismantle the organized insanity.
“I don’t think any sane person can begin to understand the motivations of the Beautification Committee. But I’m not letting you go down for arson. I promise you that, Eden.”
She gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”
“What are friends for?” He offered her his green tea icy and was gratified when she took a sip from the straw.
