Page 120 of Valentine Nook
Max taps his little chubby finger against his chin while he thinks. “Um, Hamish chewed Granny’s shoe, but I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”
For a second, it’s silent enough that you can only hear the raindrops. Then Alex bursts out laughing, followed by Max, and like dominoes, everyone goes until we’re all laughing. And that’s how the rest of the afternoon continues, through more bottles of wine, apple pie, and all three tubs of ice cream until the sun goes to bed and the rain stops.
I have a feeling we could have gone for longer if it hadn’t been Max’s bedtime. Because they all came together in one car, they have to leave together too. By the time we say goodbye, I know it’s not just Lando I’m going to miss dearly when I leave this place.
Lando closes the front door and wraps his arms around my waist. “Bravo, Hollywood. I can’t believe you survived that and came out unscathed. In fact, I think my siblings would happily trade me for you.”
“I don’t know about that.” I chuckle. “I think they like you a lot.”
“I think I likeyoua lot. Even more than I did this morning.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods, and I’m immediately taken back to what we started but never finished.
The moment I peer up at him, I’m done thinking about how sad I feel or what I’m leaving behind. For now, I need to live in the present and keep my promise of picking up where we left off.
“Hey, I love your sweater,” I say, tracing a pattern on the front of his chest.
He glances down at the black ribbed cashmere. “This? Um, thanks.”
Sinking my teeth into my lip, I hit him with my best fluttering lashes and drop my tone. “Yeah, and I’ll love it even more on my floor later.”
A flash of Lando’s baby blues is followed by a panty-melting smirk. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”
“How pre?—”
My question turns to a squeal as Lando throws me over his shoulder and makes for the stairs.
“I’m about to show you, and this time, no one’s interrupting us.”
CHAPTER 24
Lando
It’s alarming how quickly I’ve gotten used to leaving Holiday in bed while I get ready for the day. Or how many mornings I’ve stayed in bed working because I wasn’t ready to leave.
Getting up and getting out has always been my ethos. I have a business to run, and it won’t happen if I’m not in the yard or at my desk by eight o’clock. Except,miraculously, the world doesn’t stop if I arrive at the yard by ten instead.
Over the past few weeks, it’s become harder and harder to slip away while she stays sleeping, which has everything to do with the day Holiday is scheduled to leave. It’s no longer months away, but weeks. Seven, to be precise.
On the flip side, the length of time she’s been in Valentine Nook has turned from weeks to months. So many months it’s hard to remember what it was like here without her. It’s hard to remember the person I was before she burst into my life with her celebration donuts, Hollywood smile, and huge heart.
In the hallway, the floor creaks, and my head pivots to see Holiday walking through the open door. She’s all legs under the white T-shirt which barely covers her arse, blond hairmussed up from a night of sleep, and the smile that rivals the sun breaking the horizon.
“Coffee, Your Grace.”
She steps carefully onto the bed, managing not to spill a drop from the two mugs she always fills to the brim.
“Thank you.”
She drops down, cross-legged. One of her knees rests against me, and I reach out to stroke up her thigh where her Californian tan has disappeared as quickly as the summer. She says nothing as she picks up a book from her bedside table and opens it. It’s one of four books she has on the go, and there’s something about how we can sit in silence—her reading, me working—when we can quite as easily spend a day nonstop talking.
And we cantalk. We talk, and laugh, and have sex. It’s all incredible. Butthis, this quietness, there’s an intimacy to it I’ve never had before. It fills my chest with a kaleidoscope of colors, warming me to the depths of my soul and reaffirming what I’ve known for a long time. Maybe since the day I met her.
I love Holiday Simpson.
But typically, our peace is interrupted by a ringing. Holiday drops her book, picks up her phone, and looks at me with a quiet kind of excitement.
