Page 32 of The Inn at Evergreen Hollow

After a few minutes, the waitress returned, and they put in their order for dinner. Nora picked a lobster risotto, and he chose the lamb chops with roasted vegetables and garlic mashed potatoes. The fire crackled next to them, the sound of soft piano humming through the air as Nora refilled their wine, and he felt that he didn’t want the evening to end. It had barely begun, but he was already anticipating whether or not he might get to see her again. Not just in passing—but spending time with her like this, just the two of them.

Nora took another bite of the brie and pears, sipping her wine. “Thank you for giving me another chance to hang out with you,” she said with a smile, setting her glass back down. “And for forgiving me for hurting your eye.”

She reached out as she said it, touching the corner of his eye. He knew she’d done it without thinking from the way she froze an instant after she touched him, her fingertip lingering for a brief second before she pulled back. She’d never touched him before, and the intimacy of the gesture made his heart beat hard in his chest. Her fingertips were soft, and he smelled a whiff of her burnt vanilla perfume.

He felt a flip in his stomach as she pulled her hand back, her cheeks flushing a little deeper. She reached for her wine quickly, her gaze flicking away, and he hurried to alleviate what could turn into awkwardness.

“I’m more than okay,” he said quickly. “I’ve gotten hit harder than that bumping into a door at work. Not that you don’t have a good right hook on you, I’m sure.” He grinned, and Nora smiled into her glass, that flush of red still high on her cheeks.

“Carpentry is dangerous, then?” She laughed, and the moment eased, the relaxation between the two of them returning.

“I’ve bruised all ten of my fingers more than once, that’s for sure.” He paused as the waitress brought their dinners, setting the lamb in front of him and the risotto in front of Nora. “Can’t say I was ever all that fond of heights either. But it’s one of those things I just have to get over, for the parts of the job I do like.”

“What are those? Besides building and preserving the town.” Nora took a delicate bite of her risotto, and he cut a small piece off of one of his lamb chops. It was perfectly cooked, the meat melting on his tongue, spiced in a way that brought out the rich flavor of the meal.

“I like feeling useful. And there’s a feeling of completion that comes with having repaired a door, or fixed a windowsill, or put a new roof on. It’s tangible. I’ve touched it, built it, I can see the results of that hard work every day. And I suppose I like taking care of the people that matter to me. Something happens in town—like that storm—and they know they have someone they can turn to that will make it right.”

Something softened in Nora’s face as he spoke, her gaze fixed on his, and his heart did that somersault in his chest again. “What about you?” he asked, clearing his throat as he scooped up a bit of garlicky mashed potato. “What are the hazards of event planning?”

Nora laughed, taking another bite of the lobster on top of her dish. “Bossy mothers-in-law, mixed-up dates, broken zippers on dresses, and the wrong color of flowers being delivered. Not nearly as dangerous as a smashed thumb, but it definitely requires thinking on your feet. Any of those things can ruin a day, if they’re not fixed quickly.”

“So we both fix things.” Aiden looked at her, considering. “We both make something come into being, and we repair it when it goes wrong.”

Nora gave him a small, tentative smile. “Mine only lasts for a day.”

“A day that clearly means a lot to the people you create it for.”

She sat back a little, reaching for her wine glass. “It means a lot to me too. I always feel like Caroline, for instance, thinks it’s so shallow. That people spend so much money on an event that only lasts for a little while.”

“The memories last though.”

Nora brightened instantly. “Exactly. Memories, photos, even bits of things that get saved, like a bouquet. It all matters. I’m not just creating an event, I’m creating memories. Happiness.And it feels good, every time—even when things don’t go quite according to plan.”

She was passionate about her job, he could see it. As passionate as he’d always been about using his carpentry skills to keep Evergreen Hollow thriving.

He found himself wishing that he’d been brave enough back in high school to approach her. He’d made up a story back then in his head, he realized, about who Nora was and how she couldn’t possibly be interested in him. He saw now that wasn’t necessarily true.

There was no way to know what would happen now. Back then, he knew, nothing would probably have come of it either. He had always intended to learn a trade and come back home, and Nora had always been dead-set on leaving. One of them would have had to give, to make things work, and if they’d done that then one of them would have been unhappy. But as they shared a crème brûlée and finished the bottle of wine, he found himself hoping that there might be a second chance.

He stood up as Nora did, retrieving her credit card from the leather folio with the bill in it—she’d insisted on paying, since she’d invited him, and he’d let her. She wouldn’t have let him pay, and there was a feeling that if one of them did, it really did make it a date.

“Ready to head back?” he asked, feeling a small sinking in his stomach at the knowledge that the night was almost over, and the way Nora looked at him as she nodded settled his resolve.

He didn’t know where this could go, but he wasn’t going to let fear hold him back again. If it didn’t work out, things would be exactly as they were already—except he would know for sure. And he didn’t want to let her go again without knowing.

That thought lingered in his head all the way back to The Mistletoe Inn, through their casual conversation about the dinner and their plans for tomorrow. He got out to open herdoor for her again, and as her boots hit the snow, she said what was on his mind at the exact same moment that the question spilled from his lips.

“I’d like to do that again,” Nora said, right as he spoke.

“Can I take you out again?”

She laughed, the sound bright in the still, cold air, and he had the urge to lean down and kiss her. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling, and he chuckled softly.

For a moment, everything seemed to slow. Nora was still looking up at him, and he wondered if she wanted him to kiss her. He wondered for a second too long, because she smiled, closing the door behind her as she turned to go up the stairs to the inn. “Let me know when you want that second date, Aiden Masters,” she said with a cheeky laugh, and then she was headed up to the porch, disappearing inside.

He climbed back into his truck, watching the door close behind her. And he wondered, to himself, how it was going to feel when she left again.

But she hadn’t left yet.

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