Love on a Spring Morning (13 page)

Beside him, Jake frowned. “Should we go inside?”

Ryan shook his head, expelling that deep breath before taking another.
Don’t freak out over a tour. That’s a reasonable request. Get your shit together.
“I guess it’s fine. I just…I’d prefer if people remember to ask me first.”

Olivia winced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He glanced at Jack, who was staring at the ground. “You want to go too, kid?’

Jack made a noncommittal noise.

“Hey, I’m sorry I snapped. I’m going to apologize to Gav, and if you guys want to go, you can.”

Jack picked up his brother’s hockey stick and gloves, and stashed them away with his in the oversized plastic bin they kept next to the porch. Ryan gave his shoulder a squeeze as he made his way over to Gavin, who was blinking back tears on the porch.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, bud.” Ryan took a seat next to the seven-year-old and bumped his shoulder. “You got anything you want to say to me?”

“I’m sorry I said it wasn’t fair.”

“That’s a big statement, right?”

“Right.”

“You want to go with them?”

“Can I?”

Was he such an ogre that his kids thought he’d hold them back from something like that? “Of course. I just want you to be appreciative, not whiny. That’s all.”

Little arms wrapped tight around Ryan’s waist and he squeezed his son close. “Will you come, too? It’ll be fun.”

“Playing hockey is more my idea of fun, bud.”

“Please?”

And that’s how he ended up awkwardly standing ten feet away from Holly, down by the lake, trying to look anywhere but at her decidedly-not-Holly made-up face. Her hair was shiny smooth and she was wearing makeup, a lot of makeup, although it was all carefully applied to make her look like she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

Movies were weird.

Next to her, a ridiculously good-looking man flashed a pure-white smile, practically blinding the group. “Joshua Pearce, nice to meet you all.”

Olivia’s headset crackled and she leaned in. “Joshua, Hope…twenty minutes left on the lunch break. I have to go down to the dock, excuse me.”

Ryan watched as she scurried away, impressed at how effortlessly his friend blended into such an alien world.

“I thought your name was Holly.” Jack said, and Ryan jerked his attention back to his kids, who were now grilling Holly on her name. He took a step forward, but she shot him a look that said,
it’s okay.

“Most people know me as Hope Creswell.” She paused and looked right at Ryan. “That’s not my real name, though. Holly is.”

Jack continued, totally oblivious to the undercurrent of tension zinging between the star and his father. “So you’ve got two names?”

“Yep.” She smiled. “And most people don’t know my real name, so that makes you guys special.”

Gavin had to chip in. “You’re just like Clark Kent and Superman.”

She laughed, and
God,
had Ryan missed that sound. Which just pissed him off.
 

“I’m not that cool,” Holly said.

“You can run fast and make movies. You’re cool.” Gavin held out his fist and she tapped her knuckles against his before kneeling to Maya’s level.

“I need to get back to work now, but are you guys hungry? I think there’s tons of food left in the catering tent. Should we go check it out?” She held out her hand and Maya slipped her fingers into Holly’s.

Ryan hung back, watching as his kids happily traipsed along with the movie stars. Of course this made them happy. It was an escape from reality.

And isn’t that exactly what you wanted for yourself?

But the happiness was fleeting, because it wasn’t real. He gritted his teeth and followed, pissed off that for the rest of the day, they’d just talk about how cool this had been and how wonderful Holly was.

Of course, to his kids and the rest of the world, she hadn’t actually done anything that wasn’t wonderful. And even to him…even though she’d kept something big from him, at the same time she’d given him something big, too—friendship on his terms, no questions asked.

That just made him even madder, because while Ryan was starting to get the idea that he’d overreacted, he still felt wronged, too.

He didn’t know what to do about that.

— ELEVEN —

H
OLLY closed her eyes, hoping to steal a ten minute power-nap while the hair stylist reset her hair to what it should look like at the beginning of the scene.

The sliding door to the deck opened and closed, and footsteps approached. A voice cleared, and Emmett asked, “Hope, are you hungry?”

She hated how resentment prickled at that very reasonable question. This was this poor guy’s job, to make sure her every need was met, and she’d never been such a bitch before, but the last twenty-four hours she’d been in the worst mood, and had taken it out on him more than once. Swallowing back the snappy response on the tip of her tongue, she nodded as much as the hair stylist would allow. “Sure. Tea and a muffin, please.”

He slipped away again, and she took a deep breath, shoving away the feelings that didn’t belong in her head right now. She wasn’t Holly, or Hope. She was Kathleen, and she’d just seen her nurse out the window.
I know why she’s here, and I’m torn between concern and anger
. Her lines for the scene ran through her head, and she breathed in and out, urging them into her bloodstream. One more take, and she’d nail it.
 

After the rockiness of the previous two weeks, she’d slipped into a new headspace. Still mad as hell in her off-hours, but when they called action, she was delivering performances that she
knew
were the best in her career. Rejection really had made her stronger.

Maybe she should thank Ryan for that. She snorted to herself. Doubtful that he’d care.

It had been so hard to be pleasant and upbeat the day before when he’d all but sneered at her and Joshua after Olivia had introduced them to her friends. Of course, it was awkward to be introduced to a man one had secretly kissed. But she did her best. And once she started talking to the kids, everything else had faded away. She really liked Jack, Gavin, and Maya—talking to them was a genuine pleasure. And as long as she focused on their faces, she’d been able to blur out Ryan’s scowl.

Just like she’d been able to channel everything into Kathleen, blurring out the rest of the world.

But this new focus had come at a price—she wasn’t that pleasant to be around, a state she wasn’t comfortable with. When Emmett returned and slid a teacup onto the table beside her, she held out her hand. He squeezed it after hesitating a beat.
 

“Don’t quit on me, Em.”

He laughed. “You need to work on your apologies, Hope.”

He wasn’t wrong.

— —

Emmett had passed on the muffin request to someone else, an intern probably, and when she was released by the hair and makeup people, she found a basket overflowing with enough baked goods to feed a small army—most of which she couldn’t eat.

This is a sign
, she thought as she looked in the direction of Ryan’s house. When they took an early dinner break, Holly set aside the healthiest muffins that she might eat, rearranged the basket, grabbed her phone, and told Emmett to text her with a five minute warning when they were ready to get back to it.

Her heart in her throat, she tromped up the lane, all the things she might say spinning through her head.

A peace offering
. Too weak.
I’m sorry
. No, not in front of the kids.

When he opened the door, just enough to see what she wanted and definitely not enough to seem welcoming, she just skipped all of the opening options and went straight for word-vomit.

“I asked for muffins at lunchtime and they brought me an entire basket of them. They’ll go stale before I can eat them all, and some of them I won’t eat at all, so I thought the kids might like them. Here, you can just have them. I have to get back. Don’t read anything into this. I don’t have any expectations. Just blueberry buttermilk muffins. And bran. Warn the kids those aren’t chocolate chips. Nobody likes raisins.”
 

He stared back at her, his face hard and his eyes dark. Oh God, this was a mistake. She’d had a stupid, impulsive idea, but she was only making things worse. She took a half-step back, quite certain that fleeing would be the best option, but it was too late.

The door swung open the rest of the way and Ryan’s kids piled out the door around him. Gavin’s eyes lit up and he pointed to the basket. “Muffins?”

She winced and shrugged a silent apology.

He waved his hand. “Come on in.”

“I have to get back,” she said quietly as she stepped in. “We’re doing a night shoot tonight, so we’re just on break.”

“Well, thank you for the treats, right guys?” Ryan picked up Maya, who was reaching for the muffins, and Holly slid them onto the kitchen table.

Maya squealed in protest, and shook her head at Ryan when he shushed her. “No, Daddy. Put me down, your prickles are poking my face.”

Jack rolled his eyes at Holly. “They aren't prickles Maya, it's his beard.” He said it to his sister, but he said it for Holly’s benefit. Telling her he wasn’t a baby.

Gavin laughed, a silly giggle. “But that’s a good name for them. Like Daddy's a porcupine.”

From deep in Holly's belly, a laugh started and once it took hold she couldn't stop.

Maya looked at her, eyebrows drawn. "What so funny? You don't like Daddy's prickles either?"

Such an innocent question. She shouldn't have felt a stab of heat, deep inside her core, but there it was. And when she glanced up, her laughter fading from her lips, she saw an echoing fire burning bright in Ryan's eyes.

Damn it. "Okay, I need to get back to work. I just wanted to deliver these muffins. Be warned, the ones that look like chocolate chips are actually raisins.”

“I like raisins,” Jack said solemnly, so she gave him a high five.

She patted Gavin on the shoulder as he gave her a thumbs up, and waved at Maya. Ryan just watched her, and she got it—he wasn't available. But it hurt a little, knowing they had this chemistry between them and they’d never get to explore it.
He’s right. I shouldn’t always get what I want. It’s made me spoiled.

On the porch, she stopped for a second and took a deep breath, then jogged down the stairs, but she didn't get far before the door opened behind her.

"Wait." Ryan's voice was low and oh so sweet to her ears. "I want to hear the answer to that question."

She turned, taking in a nice, slow look at him. His broad shoulders were hunched up and his strong hands were clenched at his sides. He looked nervous, so nervous, and she wanted to make sure he really wanted to hear her answer first.

"If I like Daddy's prickles?" Another stab of desire pulsed inside her, and for a second she wasn't sure he’d actually have this conversation with her—or any conversation—but then he slowly stepped down the stairs toward her. His long, muscled legs quickly ate up the ground between them. “Seriously? What good comes of us talking about that?”

“Okay, I probably deserve that.” He stopped a few feet away from her and crossed his arms, then shoved his hands in his pockets, like he couldn’t figure out what to do with them.
 

Touch me, you idiot.
 

His gazed locked on hers and his voice, when he spoke, rasped out of him in a whisper. “Look…I’m sorry. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I might have been too hasty in pushing you away. I was hurt and I reacted harshly.”

And that was why she hadn’t been able to bring herself to seek him out and apologize sooner. “Twice. You pushed me away…twice.”

“Okay, I may have been hasty and wrong…twice.”

Hot, achey relief flooded through her body. “Just like that?”

Smiling, he nodded once, then twice more in fast succession. “Apparently so. I mean, not
just
like that. I’ve been thinking a lot about you, and me. We both could have done things differently. But I’m sorry, Holly. I’m unbelievably sorry that I hurt you.”

She returned the smile, enjoying the tug between them and how her smile seemed to deepen his. “If you wanted any more muffins...I could bring some up later tonight."

Emotion clouded his face. He glanced back at the house.
 

“Hey, it’s okay.” She ignored the stab of pain in her gut. She needed to be the bigger person here. She pasted on a smile. “No expectations. No kissing. I just miss sitting on the porch with you. I really meant I’d bring you some muffins, it wasn’t a euphemism for something dirty.”

He frowned. “I’m not very good at this, but I wasn’t saying I don’t want something dirty…”

She laughed as he trailed off and turned red. “Wow.”

“Um…”

“Maybe we should stick with being friends. And it’ll just be our secret, I promise.” Because she was leaving in six weeks. Because they came from separate worlds and what they’d had was fragile and temporary at best, imaginary and made of dust at worst. But what they might have again…that would have to be sensible. Realistic. And not dirty at all.

“I don’t know about just being friends. But I do think we need a do-over.” He shoved his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. He looked rumpled, over-sized, and irresistible. He shoved a big hand into the space between them. “Hi. I’m Ryan Howard. I live here. I’m the caretaker of the cottages.”

She took his hand and shook it. “I’m Holly. You might know me better as Hope Creswell, but my real friends call me Holly.”

“You’ve got a lot of those?”

“Nope.”

“I know the feeling.”

Heart hammering in her chest, she took a deep breath and confessed. “I wrote you an apology note. Like the one you wrote me.”

Slow as molasses, he arched his eyebrows and gave her an appraising nod, his gaze never leaving her face. “Is that right?”

“It got a bit wordy. That’s why I haven’t given it to you yet.”

“How wordy?”

“Ten pages.”

He started laughing and she joined him. “That’s a lot of saying you’re sorry.”