Page 53 of Whisking It All

“You needed two?” he asked.

“What? Oh!” She shook her head with a little laugh and handed him the other cup. “No, this one’s for you.” To make up for thinking about you when I definitely should not have been thinking about you. “Cream, no sugar. Right?”

“Right. Thanks,” he said, taking the cup and eyeing her like the coffee might suddenly jump up and bite him. He blinked, his eyes clearing, and gestured towards the hotel. “After you.”

She followed him through the hotel lobby into a large restaurant dining room. A bar with a mirrored backsplash was situated on one side of the room, and a baby grand piano sat at the front of the room, precisely angled spotlights shining on the gleaming wood. On the opposite side of the room, a wall of windows overlooked the expansive lawn, which gave way to the most breathtaking view of the ocean. The space was beautiful, if a bit small, but she could already picture it: a Christmas tree on either side of the piano, someone in black tie performing as servers brought course after course out from the kitchen. She walked to the wall of windows, pressing a hand to the cool glass.

“If it’s not too cold out, we should hold cocktail hour on the patio,” she said.

“That’s what Baz said too,” Jamie said, coming to stand beside her. “It will cost more to use both spaces but—”

“It’ll be worth it,” she said. “We just have to make sure we pack the house.”

She turned a smile his way and was momentarily struck by how handsome he was with the golden light coming in through the windows and gilding the contours of his face. She turned back to the windows, focusing on taking another sip of her coffee.

She had resolved not to think about how handsome he was, or how he made her skin feel all tingly, or the fact she’d been sexting with DDB while thinking about Jamie. Those were not professional thoughts, and she was determined to be a professional. Since he’s made it clear he has no interest in being anything else.

Swallowing down the disappointing thought, she forced a lightness into her tone that she didn’t feel. “Where’s Gavin? I thought he was meeting us here.”

“He was.” Jamie frowned, glancing over his shoulder like perhaps his friend had materialized without him noticing. “It’s not like him to be late.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Anyway, Baz was hoping you’d be willing to talk to Norm about donating the use of the patio.”

“Sure. But wouldn’t it be better coming from you? He knows you better,” she said.

He gave a tight smile. “Baz thinks you’ll have more luck with Norm than I will. You’re a local.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Hardly.”

“More than I am. At least as far as Norm’s concerned.” They stared at each other, their frozen smiles becoming increasingly awkward, until Jamie finally cleared his throat and looked away.

“Do you want to see the patio?” he asked at the same time she said, “Should we head outside?”

They both laughed, a grating, uncomfortable sound, and shuffled through the double doors out onto the back patio. The leaves on the trees that lined the edge of the lawn, obscuring the view of the parking lot and the road beyond, had just begun to change, but the day was still warm as the October sun beat down. The grounds were gorgeous, an endless stretch of perfectly manicured grass, breaking off into a rocky pass before a sandy beach disappeared into the ocean.

Silently they wandered towards the edge of the lawn, their shoulders brushing against each other every few steps. At one point she could have sworn his pinky brushed against her hand, but the touch was fleeting and over before she could react.

“I forgot how beautiful it is here,” she said, her voice carried away on the breeze off the water.

“People don’t think about going to the beach in the winter. We’ve got to show them that it’s just as magical all year round,” Jamie said.

She glanced at him, taking in the way he watched the waves crash on the beach below with such pride it was as though he had personally sculpted the shoreline. For the first time in a long time, she wished she felt that way about Aster Bay, like it was hers to be proud of, hers to celebrate.

Maybe it could be.

“What if we do a bonfire on the beach?” she asked.

“No one does bonfires on the beach in December.”

“That’s the point.”

“It’ll be too cold.”

“So we make that part of the fun.”

“Cold is fun?” He cast a doubtful look in her direction.

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