against the idea of Dr. John Billings. In fact, in a town this small, a lot of women would have thought I hit a homerun by nabbing a handsome doctor.
But I wasn’t completely about the idea either. I didn’t like him in that way. At least not yet, anyway.
“Well, that’s just so nice,” I said. “But I just… well, I wouldn’t want to—”
The front doorbell jangled as a customer walked in.
I had never been so glad for an interruption in all my life.
“Just give me a minute,” I said to John, placing a hand on his shoulder, a movement I immediately regretted because of what he probably interpreted it as.
I went around the back of the counter up to the cash register to meet the customer. I woke the register up by hitting one of the keys.
“What can I get you?” I said, looking up at the customer.
My heart jumped in my chest.
“Cinnamon Peters,” he said, a broad smile on his face. “How the hell are you?”
Chapter 13
I was speechless for a moment.
And then, the nerves started up.
He took his hat off and smiled at me.
It was odd. The entire night before when Daniel Brightman had been in my kitchen, I hadn’t been nervous in the least.
But now that he remembered who I was, my palms started getting sweaty and my heartbeat started picking up.
“You must think I’m a real fool,” he said.
“Well, I…” I started saying. “I wouldn’t call you that, but yeah… I won’t lie. I was surprised you didn’t recognize me.”
“You wouldn’t believe how tortured I was by it,” he said. “When you left and I realized I hadn’t told you my name, I just couldn’t figure out how you knew me. I lay awake half the night trying to figure it out.”
I looked past his shoulder for a second, noticing John turning to look at us. Eavesdropping on our conversation.
I cleared my throat.
“Well, what tipped you off, Sherlock?” I said.
He grinned. I noticed that he looked pretty good for someone who should have had a hangover. If it had been me, I would have looked like a hot mess with dark rings around my eyes. But Daniel looked relaxed, easy, content. No sign of a hangover whatsoever.
“Well, I went through all the years that I lived here, going through the people I knew in each grade level of school,” he said. “It took me until about three in the morning to get to the summer after junior year, but I got there in my own good time.”
“That memorable, huh?” I said, raising my eyebrows and placing a hand on my hip.
“No, it’s not that at all,” he said. “Just… my memory works differently. And most the time I try not to think about the past. For a while, I tried to forget a lot of my growing up years. Some not so good memories there. But then when you block it all out, you lose some of the good, too.”
I nodded. I guess that made sense. Maybe.
On my end, it hadn’t taken nearly as long to remember him.
I thought back to his earlier question.
Was he a fool?
The verdict was still out on that one.
“But I remember you, Cinnamon,” he said. “I don’t want you to think I forgot about that night by the lake.”
I could see John moving his head around at his table, trying to get a better eavesdropping angle.
I shifted my feet uncomfortably.
I really wished that Daniel would’ve come in at a different time.
“You know I called you,” I said, clearing my throat. “You know that, right?”
He nodded solemnly.
“I wasn’t in a good place then,” he said. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” I said, lying. “I was okay.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You seem to have done pretty good for yourself here.”
I smiled.
“So, professional pie-taster, what in the hell are you doing back here? I thought I’d never see you again, the way you tore out of town.”
“Well, my dad died three years ago,” Daniel said.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
Daniel’s father had left Christmas River shortly after Daniel had, moving back east
But I wasn’t completely about the idea either. I didn’t like him in that way. At least not yet, anyway.
“Well, that’s just so nice,” I said. “But I just… well, I wouldn’t want to—”
The front doorbell jangled as a customer walked in.
I had never been so glad for an interruption in all my life.
“Just give me a minute,” I said to John, placing a hand on his shoulder, a movement I immediately regretted because of what he probably interpreted it as.
I went around the back of the counter up to the cash register to meet the customer. I woke the register up by hitting one of the keys.
“What can I get you?” I said, looking up at the customer.
My heart jumped in my chest.
“Cinnamon Peters,” he said, a broad smile on his face. “How the hell are you?”
Chapter 13
I was speechless for a moment.
And then, the nerves started up.
He took his hat off and smiled at me.
It was odd. The entire night before when Daniel Brightman had been in my kitchen, I hadn’t been nervous in the least.
But now that he remembered who I was, my palms started getting sweaty and my heartbeat started picking up.
“You must think I’m a real fool,” he said.
“Well, I…” I started saying. “I wouldn’t call you that, but yeah… I won’t lie. I was surprised you didn’t recognize me.”
“You wouldn’t believe how tortured I was by it,” he said. “When you left and I realized I hadn’t told you my name, I just couldn’t figure out how you knew me. I lay awake half the night trying to figure it out.”
I looked past his shoulder for a second, noticing John turning to look at us. Eavesdropping on our conversation.
I cleared my throat.
“Well, what tipped you off, Sherlock?” I said.
He grinned. I noticed that he looked pretty good for someone who should have had a hangover. If it had been me, I would have looked like a hot mess with dark rings around my eyes. But Daniel looked relaxed, easy, content. No sign of a hangover whatsoever.
“Well, I went through all the years that I lived here, going through the people I knew in each grade level of school,” he said. “It took me until about three in the morning to get to the summer after junior year, but I got there in my own good time.”
“That memorable, huh?” I said, raising my eyebrows and placing a hand on my hip.
“No, it’s not that at all,” he said. “Just… my memory works differently. And most the time I try not to think about the past. For a while, I tried to forget a lot of my growing up years. Some not so good memories there. But then when you block it all out, you lose some of the good, too.”
I nodded. I guess that made sense. Maybe.
On my end, it hadn’t taken nearly as long to remember him.
I thought back to his earlier question.
Was he a fool?
The verdict was still out on that one.
“But I remember you, Cinnamon,” he said. “I don’t want you to think I forgot about that night by the lake.”
I could see John moving his head around at his table, trying to get a better eavesdropping angle.
I shifted my feet uncomfortably.
I really wished that Daniel would’ve come in at a different time.
“You know I called you,” I said, clearing my throat. “You know that, right?”
He nodded solemnly.
“I wasn’t in a good place then,” he said. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” I said, lying. “I was okay.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You seem to have done pretty good for yourself here.”
I smiled.
“So, professional pie-taster, what in the hell are you doing back here? I thought I’d never see you again, the way you tore out of town.”
“Well, my dad died three years ago,” Daniel said.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
Daniel’s father had left Christmas River shortly after Daniel had, moving back east
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