Page 42 of Valentine Nook
It’s hard to be annoyed when your heart is beating so hard it might burst.
CHAPTER 8
Holiday
“Welcome to the Valentine Nook Summer Fair.”
I manage to tear my eyes away from watching his brothers and Clemmie hurry toward the cricket field. Holy hell, that is one good-looking family.
Miles and Hendricks could walk straight onto a Times Square billboard and fit right in. Alex too. All the same dark hair and bright blue eyes, long legs and broad shoulders. But that’s where it stops.
If Miles is the smooth talker of the group, Hendricks is quieter and more analytical. And not just because Miles likes the sound of his own voice. Being a twin, I can easily spot the balance between the two because it’s what I have with Tanner.
Then there’s Alex, the cool one, who seems most similar to Lando.
But where the other three are good-looking, Lando ishandsome. There’s an edge to him that’s missing from his brothers. Hardened and serious, intimidating.
Older.
If I hadn’t bumped into him yesterday and walked the length of High Street, shared a donut with his horse and heardhim laugh, I’d have never believed he was capable of anything other than extreme grumpiness.
I suspect it’s a side of him that few get to see.
Nor do they see the smile he’s currently directing my way.
“Thank you.”
“Have you been to a summer fair before?”
I can’t tell if he’s teasing me or if he’s genuinely wondering.
Popping a hip, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m American. I’m not from another planet.”
“Oh really?” Deep creases frame his eyes, and a genuine grin spreads across his face. “So youhavebeen to a summer fair, then?”
“Yeah. In fact . . .” I tap a freshly manicured finger against my cheek, and my new baby-blue polish catches the light. “I think we invented the summer fair. Our one in Maine has a quarter million visitors every year—” I turn and make a big show of peering around, taking everything in, including how much tweed is being worn. “This is small fry in comparison.”
Lando’s laugh booms out, and warmth radiates through me. “Then I expect you to give me a full assessment and provide any pointers for where we can do better next year.”
“Don’t worry. I will.”
He sweeps his hand in front of us. “Shall we?”
“Lead the way.”
I’ve never loved crowded spaces, the jostle of people, the feel of being too close to someone. It’s gotten worse as my career has grown. It’s one of the reasons I keep my personal life so low-key. I don’t court publicity. I stay off social media and usually avoid all the classic haunts where celebrities hang out.
Today, I don’t seem to mind how crowded it is because it gives me an excuse to stick close to Lando. Close enough that his hand brushes against mine more than once.
“How’s Thunder today?”
“He asked me to bring him back some donuts,” he quips, making me chuckle.
I’m still smiling to myself as we pass by several booths selling local produce, cute tote bags, and souvenirs. I spy Valentine Cook’s display of fruit and vegetables, and The Beanery selling coffee and donuts, which I nearly stop and buy for Thunder.
There’s one with a line easily three times the size of anyone else’s. It’s the final booth along the row, with double the space of the others, and covered in a pink glittery cloth.
As we get closer, I see the table is heaving with products—bags of herbs, candles and incense burners. Crystals of all sizes are on sale next to bottles neatly lined up and filled with colored liquid.
