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Declan sat back down with his coffee for a moment, going over the conversation in his head. If his dad sold the store, what would he do here in Mistletoe? He loved working in his studio, but his paintings were tucked away collecting dust. Before he’d left everything behind back in Maryland, he’d been working at a gallery, hoping to go back for his masters and run it someday, or become a professor if a position opened up teaching art. If his dad didn’t need him, what was he going to do next?
Right, you give up everything and he dismisses you like you’re a pest?
Declan gulped down the rest of his coffee angrily, wincing as the warm brew burned its way down his throat. He set his travel mug in the sink without rinsing it, something he never did, and stormed out of the house, tempted to not even open the store today. He’d stay in the studio and finish his landscape and forget about everything else. His dad’s strange behavior. The holidays. The girl next door slowly driving him crazy.
As he backed out of the driveway, his thoughts drifted to Wednesday when he’d had her up on that counter. She’d almost come to his chin, and the scent of her surrounded him, putting him under a spell. At least that was the only way to describe his sudden need to tease her, taste her. If her employee hadn’t walked in, he’d have taken that step forward and kissed her. It didn’t make any sense, but it was the second time he’d been in Holly Winters’ proximity that he’d been overwhelmed with the need to kiss her.
She’d probably have slapped him for trying, anyway, since she’d suggested they go back to hating each other as soon as her check was cashed.
Hate wasn’t the right word for what he felt, especially the last few days. Something had changed between them since the prank calls, a shift of playfulness he found himself anticipating. When he’d brought her coffee on Thursday, she’d laughed at the snakes he’d drawn all over the white travel cup, then studied them with admiration he couldn’t help being affected by. He knew that his work was good, maybe not great, but her reaction made him excited, especially when she started asking him how he’d done it and he’d spent almost a half hour talking about the different shading techniques, until he realized he’d been gone too long and had to get back to the store. As Declan was leaving, she’d taken a sip of the coffee and called out to him. “Declan?”
He’d stopped in the doorway and turned.
“You’re right. This is amazing,” she said, holding up the cup.
“I’m sorry, could you say those words again?”
Holly laughed. “Never. And if you tell anyone I said it—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll come for me.” He had no idea what possessed him, but he’d winked. “I’ll be next door waiting.”
Even when he’d found gel window clings on every window of his truck that night, it hadn’t bothered him the way it used to. In fact it had the opposite effect, and that disturbed him, especially now with the possibility of getting his life back. He could have a playful acquaintance now, maybe even a friendship, but there were too many complications in play for romance.
As if he even knew how to be romantic.
Even when Holly exasperated him on the daily, there were other times she got fired up about something and he couldn’t help watching her. The way her brown eyes darkened to near-black or that smile that seemed to light up every space she inhabited. The way she stood up to him, arms crossed over generous breasts or those soft hands planted on her curvy hips. Over the years he’d had a few dreams about Holly Winters he’d never tell anyone about, especially not her, but they’d seemed to increase with frequency the last few weeks. He thought about the night in the snow, and now anytime she was near he found himself watching that Cupid’s bow mouth as she talked and Declan knew something had to be done.
Maybe instead of cutting himself off from the world, he should see if Clark and the other guys in the bridal party wanted to meet up for a drink at Brews and Chews tonight. Check out the single life of Mistletoe and stop thinking about Holly as anything other than his neighbor. If his dad wanted him to find something to occupy his time and keep Declan from worrying about him, he could do that.
But someone to occupy his time would be better.
His hand came up to stroke his face, considering his beard. He’d let it grow out before he’d moved back to Mistletoe because his ex liked facial hair, and he hadn’t really settled on a reason to shave it. In the past, Holly had called it his soup catcher, but was an aversion to beards just her preference? Or did other women feel the same way?
Declan took a parking spot near the bridal shop and checked his phone.
Work my bahookie! I know you’re getting your tux on. Have fun. It’s probably better you aren’t here, anyway. You’d probably put more than one ornament on a limb and make my OCD spike.
Declan laughed aloud as he typed back: How did you know?
He got out, ambling toward the front door, and when he stepped inside Nick and the other guys were standing off to the side of the counter, watching Clark in a black tux getting pins and needles stuck in him.
Clark pointed a finger at Declan when he spotted him. “You! Your snake prank got me in hot water.”
Declan smirked. “Why is that?”
“Because Holly called Merry, ripping into her for telling you about her biggest fear, and when Merry said she hadn’t talked to you, my fiancée’s gaze turned to me. Now both my soon-to-be-sister-in-law and Merry are mad at me because of you.”
“Don’t feign innocence, man. You knew I’d use the information for evil.”
“At the very least I thought you’d throw Nick under the bus,” Clark grumbled.
“Hey, she came by my apartment and threatened me with a baseball bat Declan made for her. I feared for my very life,” Nick said, rubbing his trigger finger over the other. “Shame on the both of you.”
“Whatever, old man,” Clark said, shrugging out of the tuxedo jacket and handing it to the seamstress.
“Eat me, Clark,” Nick muttered.
“That reminds me,” Pike said, rubbing his hands together. “We didn’t give Nick his birthday spanking. Anthony, Sam, hold him for me.”
