laughs, then asks, “You do realize those are not all that close to each other, right?”
I lean forward and slap his arm with the back of my hand. After I do, I think it was ridiculous rather than flirty. “I know, but they are a lot closer than Illinois and England.”
“True, I can’t argue with your geography.”
“You can kind of be an ass,” I joke.
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.” When he talks, all I can think about is kissing those full lips. What has gotten into me? I never have these kinds of thoughts.
“So what made you move back to England?”
“My mom passed away—cancer—when I was twelve.”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” I feel terrible for asking the question.
“No, it’s fine, it’s been a long time. My, umm, dad tried to stick it out for my grandparents’ sake, but he couldn’t stand being there without her. So my ten years in the States ended, and we flew back here to our home in England. My dad bought and restored this fine establishment, bringing it back to its former glory days, and here we are.”
“Wow, your dad did this. I’d love to meet him sometime,” I say, looking around at the amazing detail of the place.
“Unfortunately …” Holden pauses, lowering his head and swallowing hard. “He passed away last year, which is why I’m now the owner of The Three Horseshoes.”
I feel like a complete jerk and wish more than anything I knew when to keep my mouth shut. “Jesus, I’m on a roll, aren’t I?”
“It’s okay. I miss him, but I like to think he’s all around me.”
“That’s a great way to look at it.” The somber shift in the conversation has me wanting to hug him rather than kiss him.
“So what about you?” he asks, peering over at me. “You seem to know all about me, and I know nothing about you.”
“Well …” I begin, trying to think if there was anything interesting enough to share. “I grew up in Illinois. My parents and I have never been super close. God, that sounds horrible.”
“No, it doesn’t. I know I got lucky in the family pool. I’m sorry you didn’t.”
“They aren’t bad or anything, it isn’t like that. I think we just never related to each other. So, after college I moved to Chicago, landed my dream job, and here we are.”
“Oh no …” Holden huffs, shaking his head. “I think you must have left about a dozen details out. You land your dream job, and you risk it to pack up and go on a trip halfway around the world. I know there’s more to that story.”
My eyes widen; he’s far too insightful, and I wish we weren’t playing this silly game of getting to know one another. What would Kenzie do , I ask myself. She would change the subject, perhaps suggest we head back to my room and take off our clothes. Yeah, saying that is never going to happen.
“I had a bad breakup.”
“Oh wow, I’m sorry.” Holden is suddenly the one stumbling on his words. “I was just teasing, I didn’t mean for you to … what I mean is, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”
“Hell, why not,” I say, throwing my arms up into the air. I decide I can’t look any more pathetic than I already do. “I had a fiancé. It was a guy I dated in college. Well, the wedding was a little over a month away, and I caught him cheating on me with the neighbor from across the hall.”
“Ouch.” He winces as I recall my tragic story. But I wasn’t crying like the million other times I had told my tale. Perhaps everyone is right and a little distance and time does make things easier. Or perhaps staring at a man who I want to lick whip cream off makes it a little less sad.
“Yup, I know I’m pathetic. Who breaks up a month before their wedding?”
He closes one eye and pulls up his lip in an expression of shame, lifting his hand slowly in the air, as if to plead guilty.
“What? No!”
His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth as he tells his tragic history with love. “I was stood up at
I lean forward and slap his arm with the back of my hand. After I do, I think it was ridiculous rather than flirty. “I know, but they are a lot closer than Illinois and England.”
“True, I can’t argue with your geography.”
“You can kind of be an ass,” I joke.
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.” When he talks, all I can think about is kissing those full lips. What has gotten into me? I never have these kinds of thoughts.
“So what made you move back to England?”
“My mom passed away—cancer—when I was twelve.”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” I feel terrible for asking the question.
“No, it’s fine, it’s been a long time. My, umm, dad tried to stick it out for my grandparents’ sake, but he couldn’t stand being there without her. So my ten years in the States ended, and we flew back here to our home in England. My dad bought and restored this fine establishment, bringing it back to its former glory days, and here we are.”
“Wow, your dad did this. I’d love to meet him sometime,” I say, looking around at the amazing detail of the place.
“Unfortunately …” Holden pauses, lowering his head and swallowing hard. “He passed away last year, which is why I’m now the owner of The Three Horseshoes.”
I feel like a complete jerk and wish more than anything I knew when to keep my mouth shut. “Jesus, I’m on a roll, aren’t I?”
“It’s okay. I miss him, but I like to think he’s all around me.”
“That’s a great way to look at it.” The somber shift in the conversation has me wanting to hug him rather than kiss him.
“So what about you?” he asks, peering over at me. “You seem to know all about me, and I know nothing about you.”
“Well …” I begin, trying to think if there was anything interesting enough to share. “I grew up in Illinois. My parents and I have never been super close. God, that sounds horrible.”
“No, it doesn’t. I know I got lucky in the family pool. I’m sorry you didn’t.”
“They aren’t bad or anything, it isn’t like that. I think we just never related to each other. So, after college I moved to Chicago, landed my dream job, and here we are.”
“Oh no …” Holden huffs, shaking his head. “I think you must have left about a dozen details out. You land your dream job, and you risk it to pack up and go on a trip halfway around the world. I know there’s more to that story.”
My eyes widen; he’s far too insightful, and I wish we weren’t playing this silly game of getting to know one another. What would Kenzie do , I ask myself. She would change the subject, perhaps suggest we head back to my room and take off our clothes. Yeah, saying that is never going to happen.
“I had a bad breakup.”
“Oh wow, I’m sorry.” Holden is suddenly the one stumbling on his words. “I was just teasing, I didn’t mean for you to … what I mean is, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”
“Hell, why not,” I say, throwing my arms up into the air. I decide I can’t look any more pathetic than I already do. “I had a fiancé. It was a guy I dated in college. Well, the wedding was a little over a month away, and I caught him cheating on me with the neighbor from across the hall.”
“Ouch.” He winces as I recall my tragic story. But I wasn’t crying like the million other times I had told my tale. Perhaps everyone is right and a little distance and time does make things easier. Or perhaps staring at a man who I want to lick whip cream off makes it a little less sad.
“Yup, I know I’m pathetic. Who breaks up a month before their wedding?”
He closes one eye and pulls up his lip in an expression of shame, lifting his hand slowly in the air, as if to plead guilty.
“What? No!”
His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth as he tells his tragic history with love. “I was stood up at
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