Page 6 of You Had Me At Valentine

And there it is. My worst nightmare wrapped in pink paper and tied with a red bow.

“These are over a decade old, Lyra. The people who wrote them probably don’t even remember—”

“But what if they do?” She clutches the cards to her chest. “What if these messages still matter? What if delivering them now could make a difference?”

I know one card that would make a difference. Just not the kind she’s hoping for.

And then I clue in on her question. “A difference for what?”

“The inn, of course.”

My stomach squelches. “What are you talking about?”

“Saving it,” she continues, waving her hand in the air to presumably encompass the building at large. “What better way to prove the historical and cultural significance of the inn thanby demonstrating its role in bringing people together? We could host a Valentine’s Day event, just like Gran used to do.”

She’s looking at me like I’m still the person who would follow her anywhere, give her the moon and stars if she asked for them.

But I’m not that guy anymore. I’m the villain of the movie who has to sell her grandmother’s inn.

“Lyra—”

“Stop being a lawyer for a second and listen. These cards are physical proof of the inn’s impact on the community. Like, what if we could convince my dad not to sell because the people of Kilt Valley deserve to have this piece of history in the hands of the MacLellans?”

“I think you should talk to Lachlan about this plan yourself,” I hedge since I already know what he’ll say.

No.

The inn doesn’t fit the brand in his mind. And he’s the one who gets to make the decision, not me. And not Lyra.

Though I completely disagree with this stance, and told Lachlan that from the beginning. He listens to no one, least of all me. I’m here to do his bidding and soothe myself to sleep with the exorbitant paycheck I get in return.

Lately, it hasn’t felt like an even exchange. Even less so as Lyra glances up at me with those liquid puppy dog eyes.

“I will talk to him,” she says. “But this will go so much further if you’re on my side.”

“We’re supposed to be working together to get the inn ready to sell,” I protest weakly. “Not concocting a scheme that will prevent us from doing this thing your father asked for.”

“We can do both.” Her voice is pure sweetness and light. “My father doesn’t need to know if we embark on a side quest.”

And then she does the absolute worst thing she could possibly do in this situation.

She reaches out and rests her fingertips on my arm. Her touch burns through the expensive fabric of my suit. The heat should serve as a warning but all it makes me want to do is pull her closer.

I should refuse. I should shut this down immediately. “I’m sensing you won’t take no for an answer.”

Her answering smile is both victory and warning. “Correct.”

As she turns back to the decorations, she shuffles the cards around absently and I see it. My card. It’s my handwriting on the envelope and it’s addressed to Lyra.

A pit opens in my chest. My agenda just got so much bigger. And stickier.

I have to get that card out of that stack. And make sure I know exactly what she’s planning with this “save the inn” nonsense. I have to stick to Lyra MacLellan like…glitter on a suit.

“Let me help you,” I say and reach for the box of cards, but she replaces the lid and shakes her head.

“I want to look through them and see how feasible this idea of mine is before I talk to my dad.”

And now I’m directly between a rock and a valentine. Or duty and desire, more to the point.

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