“I know, I know.” And when she’d talked to Josie at the bakery the other day, the redhead had sympathized with her anxiety and agreed to put her up first so she could get it done and over. Hopefully, she’d be able to keep from throwing up that long. “I’ll just have to pretend it’s a part, like back in the olden days.”
“Hey, watch it. We’re not that old.”
“Well, I’m not, but you, on the other hand…”
“Oh, stuff it. There’s only six months difference between us. Enough of this, though. How’s everything going with Finn? You don’t give me nearly enough information in your texts.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s fine, or he’s fine?”
Nina hesitated, glanced over her shoulder even though she knew he wasn’t around, then told her very best friend, “He kissed me. Twice.”
“Shut. Up. Tell me all about it. How was it?”
“Good.” She sighed with remembrance. “So good.”
“Go, Nina. Did you invite him to the auction?”
“God no.”
“Why not?”
“Because. It’s too embarrassing. Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. He lives here, I live in L.A. I told him things between us couldn’t go any further, and he agreed.”
“He did?” Peyton sounded disappointed.
“Pretty much. And after that, he switched to full-on friend mode.”
“That sucks.”
Yes, it does. “No, it’s for the best, really. I’m here to write, remember? Not get my heart broken.”
“Is that a possibility?” Concern softened the question.
If it had been anyone else asking, she’d have lied. “He’s nice, Pey. And funny, and sweet.”
“And hot. He’s still hot, right?”
“Yeah, that, too.”
“Then why not give it a shot?”
Yeah, why not?
“I’m only here for a couple more weeks.”
“A lot can happen in a couple weeks,” Peyton argued. “He’s already kissed you twice.”
“And when I have to go home to L.A.? What then?”
“I don’t know about that, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. I do know you’ll never find your romance book hero if you never give anyone a chance.”
“Don’t pull out the romance book hero on me.” Especially when she was starting to hope he might not be entirely fictitious. Her heart didn’t need any further encouragement.
“Finn could be one, couldn’t he?”
She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to.
“Live a little, Nina.”
“Why are you always trying to corrupt me?”
“I want you to be happy.”
“I know you do, but—”
“You said you’d stay open to the possibilities.”
She had said that, but at the time she hadn’t realized the full extent of the danger to her heart. “I’ll do that when I get back to L.A.”
“Who says you have to come back?”
Initial surprise turned to shock, then alarm. “What are you saying?”
“Don’t get all freaked out,” her friend admonished. “I just mean that if something should change in your life, and you needed me to find a new assistant, I’d do it for you.”
Her chest squeezed with a little bit of hurt. “I don’t want you to get a new assistant.”
“I don’t either, but I do want you to be happy. And that means whatever it—oh, shoot, they’re calling me for the next scene.”
Nina summoned some enthusiasm. “Get your butt back to work then. I like my paychecks.”
“Yes, ma’am. You get back to writing. And listen, about tonight. It won’t be so bad. I promise.”
She had no clue, but it was what it was, and she wouldn’t back out when she’d given her word. “I’ll text you all the horrible details. You better feel awful.”
“I will.” Except there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in her laugh. “Love ya.”
“Yeah, love ya, too.”
Nina set the phone down and turned her attention back to her computer screen. Or tried to. Peyton’s words kept making her gaze shift to Finn’s note. They had her thinking about possibilities that had nothing to do with her screenplay.
Or maybe, they have everything to do with it.
No. Because other than the fact she hadn’t tossed her bottle, she wasn’t writing about herself. The main character was impulsive, and willing to take risks. She wasn’t looking for love, which is exactly why she was going to find it where she least expected it. If only Nina could figure out where, and with whom. The guy she’d planned to pair the heroine up with in the end was turning out to be all wrong, while a secondary character kept refusing to cooperate.
Finally, she snapped her laptop shut on the curser mocking her with every blink. Maybe a change of scenery will help.
Twenty minutes later, she parked on the main street in Pulaski before grabbing her computer bag and purse to work at one of the bakery tables for a couple hours. Then she’d have to head back to get ready for the auction. Part of her now hoped Finn would be home by then so she could tell him where she was going, but she reminded herself his note said he’d be gone all day. No sense getting her hopes up.
A few steps from the bakery storefront, she noticed his truck parked a couple spots up the street. A crazy surge of happiness that she might see him sped up her pulse. Her feet slowed as she swept her gaze around in search of his dark hair.
When she saw no sign of him on the sidewalk ahead or behind her, she started toward the bakery once more. That’s when she spotted him inside, through the window. Nerves attacked, and she hesitated mid-reach for the door.
Her hand froze when Finn leaned his head back, his rich, carefree laugh muffled through the glass. When his body shifted, she saw pink-haired Kyra stood over on his side of the counter. Nina backed up a step, though her gaze never left the scene playing out before her. The girl laughed with Finn and reached out to touch his arm. He lifted his hand to casually cup her elbow, then stepped forward and drew her into his arms for a hug.
So much for spending the day at his farm.
Her chest constricted with a rush of emotion she hated to acknowledge. When she saw Kyra turn her face up for a kiss, Nina spun around toward her rental car. Once in the driver’s seat, she gripped the steering wheel with her left hand and reached to insert the key in the ignition.
I don’t care. It’s not like we’re dating. I mean, not really. He doesn’t owe me anything.
And yet, her hand shook as she fumbled the key before sliding it home to start the car. A few miles out of town, the road began to blur, and she pulled over onto the side of the road. Hot, traitorous tears fell as her thoughts whirled.
Had he been dating the coffee shop girl all along, or had he taken up with her since Nina warned him she wasn’t a sure thing?
Does it matter? Either way, it just proved he hadn’t changed—the whole leopard and spot thing—and he was more of a jerk than ever to pretend he had.
Her next breath acknowledged the total unfairness of that bitter thought, and she swiped her hands over her wet cheeks with resolution.
We are not dating. He owes me nothing.
A deep breath combined with the repeat reminder brought some needed perspective and practical rationalizing. As she’d told Peyton, she’d made her decision that the attraction she felt for Finn couldn’t go any further than the kisses they’d already shared. He knew it because she’d specifically told him so. She had no right to be mad if he chose to date someone he had a better chance of a future with—or even someone with which he has a better chance to score.
Grimacing at the snarky thought, Nina wiped away the remainder of her self-pitying tears and drove back to Peyton’s house.
Finn wasn’t to blame; she had no one to blame but herself. And yet, what could she really do to change the outcome other than compromise her own beliefs and values? She wasn’t a virgin, but like her favorite Tim McGraw song
, she knew the difference between sleeping with a guy, and sleeping with a guy she loved.
The unrelenting tightness in her chest told her she could love Finn, but what good would that do her when her time here was up and she had to go home? It didn’t matter what Peyton offered, her life was in L.A. Everything she had was there, while Finn had deep roots in this town—especially now that he’d bought the tree farm.
Inside the foyer, she closed the door and leaned back. Her gaze tracked over the open, gutted space before her. Other than Sunday when they’d taken their walk, Finn had been working diligently on the demolition, and most of the downstairs was now stripped to the studs. Upstairs would be next, and he had weeks of work up there.
Did she really want to stay here and torture herself for the rest of her stay? Especially if he’d started to date Kyra Sullivan?
No way.
And the longer she stayed, the worse it would be. She had to get out of this house.
Marching up the stairs and into her room, she pulled her suitcase from under the bed and flipped it open on top the comforter. Normally she was very methodical about packing. This time, she simply scooped up her things from each dresser drawer and dumped them in before going back for the next one.
With her arms stuffed full of clothes from the second to last drawer, she paused beside the bed. Her gaze narrowed on the suitcase as a feeling washed over her that she’d forgotten something.
It niggled right there on the edge of her consciousness, but when nothing shook loose, she finished packing and carried her things downstairs while debating whether or not to leave Finn a note. It seemed rude not to, but what in the world could she say?
Managing a couple casual lines on the back of the message he’d left for her that morning, she signed her name, and left to go book a room at the local hotel for the next two nights. She had to stay in town for whoever bought her Valentine’s Day date the next night, but come February fifteenth, she was flying home.
The receptionist at the hotel offered a friendly smile when Nina walked in with her luggage. When she got to the desk, she noted the woman’s average height, her curvy hourglass figure, and pretty brown hair with reddish highlights. She appeared to be a couple years older than Nina, and looked somewhat familiar.
Here we go again.
When she spotted the name Noel on her uniform vest, and the woman asked how she could help, the feeling strengthened.
“I’d like a room for the next two nights, please.”
Noel’s smile widened. “You’re in luck. We just had a cancelation not more than five minutes ago. It’s the Jacuzzi suite, if that’s okay?”
“Is that all you have?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We’re all booked up for the auction tonight, and Valentine’s Day tomorrow.”
Of course. “Then I guess I’ll take it.”
She handed over her corporate card from Peyton’s account to book the room—and didn’t even feel guilty about it. If her best friend had just taken her with to New Zealand, she wouldn’t be in this mess.
The woman glanced at the card, then looked up with surprise. “Nina Delveaux. We went to school together,” she exclaimed. “I’m Noel Smith. Your brother was in my grade.”
There it was. “I knew you looked familiar. You were a cheerleader, weren’t you?”
“Yep, that was me. Pep squad all the way.”
She also remembered the girl had been Finn’s girlfriend for a couple months their sophomore year. Freshman Nina had been extremely envious.
“Are you going to the auction?” the peppy brunette asked.
“Yeah.”
“Awesome. I’m off at five, so I’ll see you there.”
No. Not awesome. “Actually…I’m in the auction as a favor to a friend.”
“That’s great.”
“I’m a little nervous,” she admitted before she could help herself.
“Oh, don’t be. You’ll do great, and it’s for such a good cause.” Noel’s brown eyes shone with obvious anticipation as she leaned forward with a sassy grin. “There are a number of good specimens for the men, but there’s one in particular I’m hoping to get my hands on.”
Nina managed to maintain her smile, even though the teasing words made her stomach heave with uneasiness. That kind of outlook was exactly what she’d feared all along, especially if the men were even worse than the women.
“Well, good luck,” she offered faintly.
“Thanks. You, too.”
On her way up the stairs to the second floor, Nina snuck a glance back toward the desk. Noel was still as nice as she remembered her being in high school—and clearly, still single.
Yeah, but at least she’s willing to go after what she wants.
Putting that thought out of her head, she made good use of the jets in the Jacuzzi tub, and took extra care getting ready. Yes, she was totally bah-hum-bugging it by wanting to go first at the auction to get her turn over with, but she also wanted to bring in as much money as possible for the fundraiser.
Seeing the final results in the mirror boosted her morale a bit before she grabbed her purse and left to make a brief appearance at the meet-and-greet cocktail hour preceding the start of the actual auction.
Chapter 12
Finn closed the front door after Kismet darted inside the house and disappeared. Probably in search of Nina, though he knew she’d left already since her rental car wasn’t parked out front. He paused for a moment, thinking about how quickly he’d gotten used to seeing her each day. Leaving before she got up this morning had taken some willpower.
Then there was the not kissing her again the past couple days. That had taken a strength of will he’d never quite exercised before. But he was going to change all that.
Starting tonight.
He hung up his jacket and headed into the kitchen, thinking about the plan he’d set up with Kyra when he’d stopped by the bakery. All she had to do was win the bid for his date using his money. It wasn’t cheating when the veterans still got all the cash, and with that out of the way, he’d be free and clear to win Nina’s date.
Tomorrow, he’d take her to a nice restaurant for Valentine’s Day where he would continue his campaign to convince her that the connection between them deserved a fair shot. It deserved a lifetime, but he couldn’t go that far too soon or he’d risk scaring her away.
A soft whine sounded behind him. When he started to turn to look at Kismet, his attention caught on the slip of paper lying on the butcher block. At first, he assumed it was the note he’d left that morning, but a closer glance revealed much prettier, more feminine handwriting than his.
He snatched it up in anticipation, only to have crushing disappointment rush in as he read her words.
Finn, thanks for compromising with me the past two weeks. It’s been fun, but I have to get back to L.A. sooner than I thought. Best of luck with your farm. ~ Nina
Wow.
He hadn’t expected her to just up and leave. And with only a casual few words, as if the moments they’d shared didn’t mean anything to her.
He rubbed at the tight, burning sensation in his chest. Behind him, Kismet whined again, and he turned around to see her holding a green wine bottle in her mouth.
“Sassy girl,” he admonished in a low voice. “I told you, stop digging in the recyclables.”
The shepherd ducked her head in shame and dropped the bottle. As it rolled across the old, cracked linoleum toward him, it occurred to Finn he didn’t drink wine, and he didn’t recall Nina having had any, either.
When he scooped up the empty bottle, movement inside had him pulling out the cork to dump a rolled slip of paper into his palm. Curiosity burned bright as he unrolled the note.
“Ah ha,” he said to his dog after reading the first line. “It’s her perfect guy message in a bottle from her screenplay.”
She must’ve written it down for visual inspiration. Reading through the requirements Nina had come up with for her main character, he smiled
as her humor shined through in the snarky personals-style ad. If the rest of her writing compared similarly, hers would be a chick flick he might actually enjoy.
He set it aside and went upstairs to get ready for the fundraising event with a heavy heart. An assessing look in Nina’s bedroom confirmed she’d definitely left. Knowing she wouldn’t be at the auction took away every last shred of anticipation that had been building for the evening.
As he shaved and showered, his thoughts kept returning to the list of ten requirements her fictional character had come up with—or she’d come up with for her character. Either way, he couldn’t help thinking he actually met a few of them.
Then he recalled when they’d driven to Green Bay for the movie, she’d reached to turn up the volume when Tim McGraw came on the radio. Finn had said he liked his music, and she’d said the country singer was her favorite. Especially his song, “Humble and Kind,”—the same song referenced in the bottle message.
The contact email in the message also intensified his growing suspicion.
bemyhero (at) priley…
Considering she worked for Peyton Riley, he wondered if it could be a real email address. And would that make the note real and not fiction?
If it was real, who did it belong to—Peyton or Nina?
The details nagged at him as he pulled on clean jeans and buttoned a navy blue dress shirt. He slipped on his black suit coat, but skipped the tie. Tonight would be torture enough without a noose around his neck. Then again, he would still have Kyra bid on him. Because even if Nina wasn’t there, since he’d met her, there was no one else he wanted to go out with on Valentine’s Day—or any other day.
Which made him even more determined to find out about this message in the bottle. When he went back downstairs, he called Eric Riley and managed to come up with a believable excuse about the house so the guy would hand out his famous cousin’s cell number. Except, Peyton didn’t answer. He hung up in frustration and looked at the email address again. Sending a message might be his only option to get answers anytime soon.
His cell rang, and when Peyton’s number popped up, he nearly dropped his phone in his haste to answer. “Hey, it’s Finn. Thanks for calling back.”
Nina (Beach Brides Book 3) Page 8
