Love in the Details (11 page)

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Chapel said to Holly the next morning
, as she accepted her coffee through the door. “Did you remember to put in one and a half packets of sugar?”

“I did.”

“I'm in need of some Bengay for my poor back. Would you be able to pick some up for me later, do you think? If you wouldn't mind?”

“I wish I could help you, but I'm not going to make it to the store today. My family's in town so I'm spending the day with them before the wedding rehearsal up at the church.”

“Speaking of the big wedding, Doreen told me that someone else is playing the organ.” Mrs. Chapel pinched her lips and shook her head disapprovingly.

“That's true.”

“She said that you brought her caramel corn to help her recover from the slight.”

“Also true.”

“Good girl.” She gave a decisive nod, her rheumy eyes regaining their twinkle. “And don't you worry about the Bengay. I'll shame my younger sister into buying it for me.”

“No one's more of an expert at shaming than you are, Mrs. Chapel.”

“Why, thank you!”

Holly moved toward her apartment.

“Some things were delivered for you while you were
getting
coffee,” Mrs. Chapel called after her.

“Oh?”

“By a
handsome man
.”

Holly shot her a questioning look.

“I think he's still there,” the old lady whispered, loudly enough for passersby on Main Street to hear.

Holly walked around the hallway corner and found Josh—
Josh!
—leaning against the wall next to her door, an array of items covering her doormat. He pushed to standing at the sight of her.

He wore a shirt and tie beneath a sweater vest. With his tall frame and lean physique, he could pass for an Armani model. A sheepishly smiling one. One that moonlighted as a professor of Unfathomable Math.

“Hi,” he said.

He'd either become more gorgeous since she'd seen him last or she'd forgotten how gorgeous he'd been to begin with. Her heart, her poor heart, was melting at the sight of him. “Hi.”

He lifted a hand and flipped an envelope face up as he extended it to her. “I brought you this.” He'd written her
name on it in handwriting that hadn't changed much since high school.

“Thank you.” She took it from him.

“Here.” He lifted the coffee carrier with her lone drink from her hand. She'd forgotten she'd been holding it.

She began to pull open the flap on the heavy stationery. “Is this when you inform me that you've secretly been buying up all the real estate in Martinsburg?” A smile played across her lips. She'd thought to herself once that he'd have no way of knowing where she lived. She'd been wrong. “Are these my eviction papers?”

“I typically save my evil real estate plotting for towns large enough to merit a Walmart.”

“Ah.” She uncovered an engraved invitation to the rehearsal dinner.

“It didn't occur to me until last night that I hadn't made sure that you were invited,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

She moved her attention from the lovely invitation to him. “There's no reason to be sorry. I'm just Trinity's wedding coordinator. I'm not actually in Ben and Amanda's wedding.”

“I'd like for you to come.”

“I—”

“I'm the one paying for the rehearsal dinner and you're the one who helped me with the planning. You're coming. All right?”

She bit the side of her lip. “If you like.”

“I would.”

“Then I'll be there.” She examined the collection of things sitting in front of her door. “What's all this?” A huge
vase of flowers. Three flavors of ground coffee. A sheet cake from the caterer. (It had been her favorite, despite that apple pie had been a better fit for the rehearsal dinner.) Five packages of denture cleaner for Mrs. Chapel. And a twenty-four-pound bag of Meow Mix.

“A few thank-you gifts. And a few gifts to apologize for the fact that your invitation was delivered so late.”

Delighted laughter broke from her lips. “You didn't have to do this.”

“Do you like any of it?”

“I like all of it.” She was so touched and surprised by his thoughtfulness that she almost wanted to cry over it. “Thank you.” Her voice emerged wobbly with emotion. “How did you know that Shadow eats Meow Mix?”

He lifted one masculine shoulder. “I remembered from eight years ago. I'll help you carry it in, then I'll get out of your way. I know your family's in town.” He must have heard, of course, every syllable of her exchange with Mrs. Chapel.

She opened her door and dazedly tried to lend a hand, while he, in actuality, did all the work.

She stood in her small kitchen, the counters covered with his gifts, the invitation in her hand, quiet resting over them as they smiled at each other. Thank God she hadn't left wadded up panties or something on her floor.

“I'll see you tonight at the rehearsal,” he said.

“See you then.”

He held eye contact with her for a drawn-out second, then let himself out.

Holly blinked at the items. Did Josh like her? Hope,
worry, and confusion battled for control of her mind. Hope, because she dearly wanted him to like her. Worry, because giving him power to hurt her terrified her. Confusion, because she didn't know which was stronger.

The hope. Or the worry.

Where was Holly?

Ben and Amanda's family and friends had arrived at the Texas Olive Oil Company and gathered on the patio for drinks and appetizers thirty minutes ago. Josh hadn't joined them. He stood alone inside the barn, wearing a suit and watching the side door that had been left open for arriving guests.

He glanced at his watch, frowning. Concern tightened around his chest and lungs.

Earlier, at the rehearsal at the church, Holly had welcomed everyone to Trinity and offered a prayer. The minute she'd finished praying, Mitzi had taken over. Mitzi had made them run through the routine they'd follow during the ceremony three times.

Holly had stood off to the side the whole time, close enough that Mitzi or Amanda or Amanda's mom could ask her questions. She'd been wearing business clothing instead of party clothing and holding a pen and the notebook she'd brought with her when they'd looked at venues together. Each time Josh had glanced at her during the rehearsal, she'd either been looking carefully elsewhere or down at her notebook.

Josh turned, taking in the view beyond the open sliding doors of the guests and the scenery. The stormy skies had disappeared around noon. They'd left behind clear, still weather ideal for everything Holly had imagined this night could be. He couldn't accept that she wasn't here to see it.

“Josh,” one of the bridesmaids called to him. “Come on out. I have some people to introduce you to.”

“Be there in a minute.”

He returned his gaze to the side door. Holly had told him she'd come tonight. But maybe she'd chosen to skip it at the last minute. She might be tired. Or maybe she'd made plans with Rob.

Should he call her to make sure she was coming?

He was an idiot. A ridiculous—

Holly appeared in the doorway.

He froze at the sight of her. She wore a dress of burgundy lace on a flesh-colored background fabric. She'd pulled her hair into some kind of loose bun at the back of her neck. High heels.

She looked like a princess.

Need, sharp and painful, broke open inside him. At eighteen, he'd been fatherless, poor, without influence, and sure of just one thing. His love for Holly. Years had passed, but that truth had not changed. The man who didn't do anything halfway still loved her.

He made his way toward her. She approached him with a smile.

“I was worried you weren't going to come,” he said.

“I took time to change and redo my hair after the rehearsal.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. Is everything going well so far?”

“Yes.” He offered the crook of his elbow and she set her hand in it. He guided her through the barn.

“It's like magic,” she said. “I can't believe the transformation.”

The equipment had been moved out and round tables brought in. Linens, votive candles, and large flower arrangements decorated each table. The caterer had suggested they hang lanterns staggered at different heights from the overhead beams, and he'd agreed. “Do you like how it turned out?” It mattered to him that she did.

“I absolutely love how it turned out. Everything's even better than I expected.”

If only she'd let him, he'd throw her parties like this, or buy her jewelry, or take her on trips, or hire someone to socialize Shadow, or whatever else made her happy. “Anything you'd change?” he asked. “If so, I might still be able to make it happen.”

“I wouldn't change anything about this rehearsal dinner. Nothing at all.”

I wouldn't change you
, he thought.

They made their way through the guests to the far edge of the flagstones. When they came to a stop, she stepped gently away from him. Conversations and laughter surrounded them with a friendly hum. Rows of string lights extended from the roof of the barn over the patio, like a canopy.

“Can I get you something to drink or eat?” he asked.

“Maybe in a minute. Wow, look at the view.”

In the distance, the lake reflected the glow of sunset like a bronze coin. The fading light made her earrings sparkle and her skin glow.

“I thought the rehearsal went well at the church,” he said, making an effort to steer his thoughts toward safer ground.

“Yeah. I thought so too.” She glanced up at him out of the corners of her eyes. As usual, the gray-blue depths shone with wry humor. “You did a good job charming the flower girls.”

“I try.”

“You kept them calm when they started to get rambunctious.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“Heroic. What're you going to do next?” She angled her chin toward the edge of the patio. “Take a running leap off this thing so we can all watch your cape unfurl as you soar off to charm more five-year-olds?”

“No.” One side of his lips rounded upward. “I don't like capes.”

She chuckled, then took a moment to let her attention sweep slowly over the guests. “How does this party compare to the ones you attend in Paris?”

“Favorably.”

“Really? But there aren't any French women here.”

“No.”

“French women are famously chic and beautiful.”

“Are they? I hadn't noticed.”

“You mean to tell me you don't have a French girlfriend?” She arched an eyebrow.

“No.”

“Are you sure? Does the name Genevieve ring a bell?”

“No.”

“Margaux?”

He shook his head. “Would you be happier if there were French men here?”

“I prefer Texan men.”

“Texan men who can cook?” The question showed too much of his hand. He sounded like a jealous boyfriend, except that he was only one of those things. Just the jealous part.

She sized him up, looking highly entertained. “Cooking skills are optional.”

Two of Ben's groomsmen joined them. The guys clapped him on the back and introduced themselves to Holly. He watched her shake hands with them, then nod and listen to the story one of them was telling about how badly Josh had played on their golf trip.

Josh had almost made it through his time in Texas. He was leaving day after tomorrow. One more day. He only needed to survive one more day without doing or saying something stupid to Holly and making a royal fool of himself.

She'd been kind to him, but there was a big jump between feeling kindly toward someone and loving them.

One more day. Could he manage to hold back the words inside of him for one more day?

The first rule of mingling on a flagstone patio: avoid accidentally wedging a high heel into a crack between stones. Holly focused on exactly that while chatting with Ben and Amanda's guests. She knew many of them because such a large number lived in Martinsburg.