sake, but he wanted to be a lot closer. She wasn’t in running gear tonight—she wore dark jeans and an oatmeal coloured sweater. Her hair was braided and hung halfway down her back, and he had an overwhelming urge to tug the elastic band off the end of the braid and work his fingers through her silky strands.
After watching him get settled, her eyes bright and curious the whole time, she pointed her finger at his chest. “You’re…happy.”
He laughed. “I know, it’s an unusual state of being for me.”
“That’s too bad.” But she looked at him like she knew just how precarious joy could be.
“You too?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have anything to complain about. Not like you. You’ve got a lot on your plate.”
More than she probably knew, although maybe Pine Harbour gossip had drifted to the film set. Even if it had, the last thing he wanted to talk about was the sad reality of his life. “You look like you’re in a good mood, too. Better than yesterday.”
“Yeah. Yesterday was drama-city. Today wasn’t so bad. And now we’re having tea,” she said with another smile, handing him a cup of…not tea.
He took a tentative sniff. “What is this?”
“Chamomile. Good for sleep.”
“Interesting. In my world, tea is black. Maybe green if I’m eating sushi.”
“Well, in my world, I need to be up every morning at five, so this is what I drink at night.” She winked at him and took a sip.
“Five? Damn, that’s worse than the Army. Or kids.”
“It’s all I’ve known for a long time. I do love sleeping in, but it rarely happens.”
He took a sip of the flowery liquid. It was hot, that was something. “Tell me something fun about your job.”
She pressed her lips together, the corners fighting to turn up.
“What?”
“You don’t need to make small talk.”
“I’m being polite. Wait, no.” He laughed, then groaned. “I’m not great at this being social thing. I mean, I’m genuinely curious about what you do.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “You really want to know?”
“I do.” He grinned. “What was the most entertaining thing that happened today?”
She made a pained face. “Okay, you can’t tell anyone this.”
“Cross my heart.”
“The director and his wife, who is one of the lead actors, had a screaming match over lunch about how they don’t have any emotional intimacy in their marriage.”
“You’re kidding me. In front of people?”
“The entire cast and crew. She’s lovely, but he’s a piece of work.” She gave him a wary side-eye. “Do you want to hear more?”
Ryan groaned. “No, not even a little bit.”
“Tell me something fun about your kids.” She sipped her tea, then swiped her lower lip with her tongue, leaving her mouth wet and shiny.
He stared at her mouth for a moment, then lazily drifted his gaze back to her bright eyes. He didn’t really want to talk about his kids all of a sudden. Somehow they were closer now than when he’d first sat down.
She stared up at him, slowly blinking. Once. Twice.
“Maybe you don’t want to talk about anything at all,” she finally whispered.
“That’s probably true.” He cleared his throat, pushing away his thoughts about her mouth. “Maybe I need some more tea.”
— —
Holly’s cheeks flushed as Ryan turned and stared into the darkness. That had been a stupid thing for her to say. She must have read him wrong, thinking that he wanted to kiss her.
“I’ve got lots of tea,” she said, desperate to pretend she hadn’t just hit on him—and been rejected. At least he hadn’t gotten up and run inside.
She took his mostly-full cup and added a bit more from the thermos, then turned and settled her back against the newel post where the railing met the stairs. She wanted to show him that they could still keep talking and she wouldn’t launch herself at him.
“So all those people down there—” He gestured toward the cottages. “Are they all too tired out from being
After watching him get settled, her eyes bright and curious the whole time, she pointed her finger at his chest. “You’re…happy.”
He laughed. “I know, it’s an unusual state of being for me.”
“That’s too bad.” But she looked at him like she knew just how precarious joy could be.
“You too?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have anything to complain about. Not like you. You’ve got a lot on your plate.”
More than she probably knew, although maybe Pine Harbour gossip had drifted to the film set. Even if it had, the last thing he wanted to talk about was the sad reality of his life. “You look like you’re in a good mood, too. Better than yesterday.”
“Yeah. Yesterday was drama-city. Today wasn’t so bad. And now we’re having tea,” she said with another smile, handing him a cup of…not tea.
He took a tentative sniff. “What is this?”
“Chamomile. Good for sleep.”
“Interesting. In my world, tea is black. Maybe green if I’m eating sushi.”
“Well, in my world, I need to be up every morning at five, so this is what I drink at night.” She winked at him and took a sip.
“Five? Damn, that’s worse than the Army. Or kids.”
“It’s all I’ve known for a long time. I do love sleeping in, but it rarely happens.”
He took a sip of the flowery liquid. It was hot, that was something. “Tell me something fun about your job.”
She pressed her lips together, the corners fighting to turn up.
“What?”
“You don’t need to make small talk.”
“I’m being polite. Wait, no.” He laughed, then groaned. “I’m not great at this being social thing. I mean, I’m genuinely curious about what you do.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “You really want to know?”
“I do.” He grinned. “What was the most entertaining thing that happened today?”
She made a pained face. “Okay, you can’t tell anyone this.”
“Cross my heart.”
“The director and his wife, who is one of the lead actors, had a screaming match over lunch about how they don’t have any emotional intimacy in their marriage.”
“You’re kidding me. In front of people?”
“The entire cast and crew. She’s lovely, but he’s a piece of work.” She gave him a wary side-eye. “Do you want to hear more?”
Ryan groaned. “No, not even a little bit.”
“Tell me something fun about your kids.” She sipped her tea, then swiped her lower lip with her tongue, leaving her mouth wet and shiny.
He stared at her mouth for a moment, then lazily drifted his gaze back to her bright eyes. He didn’t really want to talk about his kids all of a sudden. Somehow they were closer now than when he’d first sat down.
She stared up at him, slowly blinking. Once. Twice.
“Maybe you don’t want to talk about anything at all,” she finally whispered.
“That’s probably true.” He cleared his throat, pushing away his thoughts about her mouth. “Maybe I need some more tea.”
— —
Holly’s cheeks flushed as Ryan turned and stared into the darkness. That had been a stupid thing for her to say. She must have read him wrong, thinking that he wanted to kiss her.
“I’ve got lots of tea,” she said, desperate to pretend she hadn’t just hit on him—and been rejected. At least he hadn’t gotten up and run inside.
She took his mostly-full cup and added a bit more from the thermos, then turned and settled her back against the newel post where the railing met the stairs. She wanted to show him that they could still keep talking and she wouldn’t launch herself at him.
“So all those people down there—” He gestured toward the cottages. “Are they all too tired out from being
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