Page 21 of Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty

“Oh, God.” James lowers his fork. “I’m so sorry.”

I wave one hand and sip my wine. “Don’t be. It’s just a fact of life, right? You get sick, say goodbye to all your money. Anyway, I was extremely lucky in that my parents helped me with those bills, but it still scraped all of us dry. If not for the inn being so successful, I might have feared for them. But it got me thinking, y’know? Around here, money is tight. Medical treatment is scarce unless you want to pack up to the city, which is an eye-watering expense in itself.”

James nods along while he eats, and his eyes never leave mine.

“A free clinic would be able to take the weight off, in some cases. I think about how many serious illnesses can be prevented if they’re caught quickly enough, and then not only is the cost down, but people get to live their lives, y’know?”

“It’s admirable,” James says, and when he smiles, my stomach clenches tightly. Butterflies dance through me, and warmth sweeps up my spine. I’m glad this dress is strapless because with any more layers, I would be sweating up a storm.

“You think so?”

“Of course.” His voice is low, and each time I glance up, he’s watching me intently. “You can imagine that where I come from, there’s not much room for that kind of appreciation for others. For one thing, my mother plans out almost every detail of her life—and mine. A passion project like that is a dream. And I think it's admirable that you’re taking time to better things for others.”

It’s impossible to keep the smile from my face as my cheeks flush warm. “It just feels like a nice thing to do.”

“It is. Margret told me that you plan to auction off the tiers of your cake to help raise money, and that lots of other peoplearound town are donating items and pieces to help. Then she asked me if I would be willing to donate hours.”

My heart jumps, and I watch him closely. “Will you?”

“I’d be honored.” His smile widens, and my heart skips another beat. “Although it’s slightly selfish, perhaps, of me to be so willing simply so I can integrate into town a little easier.”

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I think you’re doing a good job.”

“Really?” James toys with his glass, sliding his fingers around the rim as we lock eyes.

“Yes,” I say, and my mouth is oddly dry. “Everyone’s been talking about the hot shot doctor.”

“Almost as much as I hear about the award-winning baker,” James replies just as swiftly.

My cheeks burn. “That’s not really anything.”

“Don’t downplay your achievements. Doctor. Baker. Mechanic. It doesn’t matter. Talent and skill are recognized, regardless. And I know talent when I see it. I always thought you had an intricate eye for detail.”

“Really?” I can’t look away. His eyes hold me captive, and I’m so completely willing. Under the table, our legs cross, and there’s a moment when shin catches against shin. A jolt passes through me, the shock at the contact and yet something more. A familiar ache.

How we used to lie in bed watching the sun come up with our legs tangled together. Things are so different now.

“Definitely.” James speaks slowly, like the word is a delicacy, and he doesn’t look away. I have to. I’m afraid if I stare too long,I’ll fall into his eyes with no way out. But when I glance back up, he’s still watching me with such soft intent that I melt.

“It’s just practice.”

“Practice hones skill, but it doesn’t create natural talent,” James says. “From the moment I saw you, I knew you had something special about you. This incredible warmth is visible in everything you do.”

He speaks like there are no years between us. I’m acutely aware of every movement he makes and how easy it would be to reach across the table and take his hand. I want to feel his touch against my skin and see if it still gives me the same electric shivers it used to.

“You’re just saying that because I gave you a free cupcake.” I glance away.

Has the air around here gotten thicker? Why is it so hot?

James laughs. “You could solve so much with a free cupcake.”

“Everyone loves a good bit of baking.”

We talk late into the night, discussing simple things like our day to day lives and then a little bit about the old days. It’s hard not to reminisce, and while I was certain if I ever saw James again, I would demand to know why he abandoned me, the question never came up.

I’m having too much fun, and as the restaurant closes and James pays our bill, it hits me how easily this ‘fake dating’ situation could run away with itself.

I need to be careful.

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