Welcome To Winterville by Carrie Elks

9

“Icalled to let you know that I’ll be staying at the Regency for a few days, in case you need to call me,” his grandma said.

Josh frowned. “Why are you in a hotel?” he asked his Grandma, still staring at the flier advertising a second town meeting. He’d leave it where it was, he’d already taken a photograph with his phone.

“Your grandfather is being difficult. I thought I’d give him a few days to huff and puff and get whatever it is out of his system.”

“What kind of difficult?” His voice was low. A cold breeze was blowing through his hair.

“You know what he’s like. He’s throwing a fit because he can’t get a hold of you and taking it out on everybody else. Thank heavens he can’t drive himself to the airport otherwise he’d be halfway to you by now.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll come home. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“You’ll do no such thing. That will only give him what he wants. Let him stew for a while, you’re the one in charge. Anyway, I could do with a lovely break. I have a facial booked in for this afternoon, and some of the girls are coming into the city to meet me for dinner this evening.”

His grandma’s friends were all in their early eighties, like his grandma herself. It made his lips twitch to hear her describe them as girls.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go back.”

“I’m eighty-three years old, sweetheart.” His grandma sounded amused. “I’m not about to start a brand new life. And anyway, I love the stupid old man.”

And wasn’t that the kicker? It didn’t matter how much of an asshole his grandfather was, he still had the devotion of a woman he didn’t deserve. No matter how many times Josh had tried to get her to see a lawyer, or an apartment that was beautifully furnished, she wouldn’t leave the man who sometimes got so angry he drove her out of her own home.

There was so much warmth in her voice. “Anyway, tell me about Winterville. Is it as pretty as it looks in the pictures?”

“I’m about to bulldoze it, Grandma.”

“Stop it. No you aren’t. You’re about to make it better, the way you always do.”

That was another thing about his grandma. It wasn’t just his grandfather who basked in the glory of her devotion, Josh did too. She saw the good in everything, even when there was no good to be seen.

He had an inkling that if she was Satan’s grandma, she’d go around telling people just how lovely it was that he kept everybody warm.

“Will you still be there for Christmas? It looks lovely at Christmas. You could eat dinner at the Winterville Inn. Do you know they gather around the tree and sing carols?”

Yeah, he knew. “I won’t be here that long. And anyway, we don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“Yes we do. And anyway, you should have some fun. I’m worried about you, darling. You’re a workaholic like your grandfather. You need some time to relax.”

He bristled at the comparison. “I’m relaxed. I’m not even wearing a tie. And I don’t know how long it’s going to take.” Or how long he’d insist to himself he was only here for business, and not to make Holly Winter remember that one night they had together.

“Maybe you could go sledding,” his grandma continued. “Are you going to decorate your rental house for the holidays? There’s a Christmas tree farm nearby, it looks like so much fun.”

“How much have you been studying this place?” Josh was trying not to laugh. He wouldn’t be decorating anything.

“Your grandfather left some documents and brochures out. I took a look.”

“Well, it’s not like it used to be. The place has gotten a little downtrodden.”

“That’s because poor Candy Winter died. Did I tell you that I met her once? At a gala to raise money for childhood literacy. Oh my, the woman was a human dynamo. She managed to persuade Oscar Gentry to open his wallet, and everybody says the world will end when those demon moths escape.”

Josh chuckled.

“Oh darling, I have to go. I just saw Mindy Latham walk past, and it looks like she’s had some work done. I need to get all the details.”

“Of course. Have a good break and I’ll talk with you soon.”

“Take care of yourself. And have fun. You might even like it.”

He shook his head and ended the call, then sent a message to Willa, asking her to arrange a voice conference with his grandfather. It was one thing to avoid him, another if it caused his grandma pain.

He pushed open the door to the café. Dolores looked up and smiled as he walked in.

Why was she smiling at him? Surely she should be spitting in his coffee. He’d never understand the people around here.

“What can I get you?” she asked him.

He slid his phone into his pocket. “Is it okay that I’m here?” What was this sudden attack of conscience? She was a business woman, a customer was a customer. And yet he wanted her to say it was okay.

Dolores blinked, considering his question. “Of course it’s okay,” she said, reaching across the counter to pat his hand. The easy gesture made his throat feel tight. “You’re a customer and every customer is a friend. And you look cold,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “How about you go sit by the fire and I’ll bring you over a coffee and pastry?”

“That sounds good.” For heaven’s sake, he was choking up, and he didn’t like it one bit. He’d drink his coffee and eat the damn pastry then go back to his makeshift office in the rental home and concentrate on the plans for Winterville’s future, and tomorrow’s town meeting.

Josh rubbed his thumb against the stone in his pocket. Whether he liked it or not, he was a Gerber. And he didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body. For the sake of his sanity, he was planning to keep it that way.

* * *

The next morning, Holly was staring at handwritten numbers, her finger skimming down the length of the paper until she hit the bottom. She’d like to say Dolores was the only business owner she knew that still kept handwritten books, but Holly knew for a fact that Charlie Shaw did the same for the Cold Start Garage. Maisie at the Spa would probably too, if her grandson hadn’t set her up with a snazzy new laptop and accounting program he insisted she use.

“What’s this entry?” she asked Dolores, pointing at a payment of two thousand dollars. It was quiet in the café – she was the first customer by far this morning. She’d arrived before Dolores had even unlocked the door.

Damn insomnia. At least by being here she wasn’t thinking about a certain businessman with golden flecks in his eyes.

“That’s my contribution to your grandma’s medical bills.” Dolores gave her the softest of smiles. “Your mom and uncles couldn’t afford them, so we all agreed to help by paying more rent.”

“They couldn’t afford them.” Holly’s voice was monotone. “How much did your rent go up?”

Dolores looked surprised at the twisted expression on Holly’s face. “We agreed to a thirty percent increase until the debt was paid off. Your poor family shouldn’t have to pay for it all. Candy was always so good to us, so of course we wanted to give something back.”

Candy always made sure she had kick ass medical insurance. It was something she’d instilled into Holly from a young age. “There are only three certainties in life,” she’d say with a low drawl. “Birth, death, and hospital bills. You make sure you’re ready for all three.”

That hadn’t stopped her mom and uncles from taking advantage of the goodwill of the community, though. Sure, their inheritance was less than they’d been expecting. And all three of them had expensive tastes. But to take from these good, good people then sell the town from under them?

It made her feel sick.

“You should stop paying them now,” Holly told her. “And put that money aside for your retirement.” Holly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a number. “If you could earn this much from the café would you continue working here?”

Dolores blinked at the number. “Of course I would. I’d like to hand things over to my son. You remember Reynolds, don’t you? He separated from his wife last year and he can’t work nights anymore now that he has shared custody of their children. He’s taking work where he can, but it’s no stability for those girls of his.” She smiled softly at the thought of her granddaughters. “I hoped they’d all come live here with me. I’d take more time off and help look after them.”

“Maybe things will change,” Holly told her, swallowing when she looked at the numbers Dolores had scrawled down. “The fight isn’t over yet. You’re coming to the meeting tonight?”

“Yes I am.” Dolores patted her hand. “I think it’s very sweet that you and your cousins are trying to find a way to keep things as they are.”

Holly didn’t feel sweet. She felt helpless. “If you leave these books with me, I’ll make some projections for you. And some suggestions on what you can do with your money if the sale goes through.”

“You’re a good girl.” The bell above the door tinkled. “And now I’d better get to work. This town doesn’t work without a good injection of caffeine and Christmas music.”

The clip clop of Dolores’ shoes echoed through the café as Holly leaned over the ledger, tapping on the calculator app on her phone and making swift notes on her pad. She was so absorbed in the calculations that she didn’t realize somebody was behind her until the flier was slapped down on the table by a very big, masculine hand.

And then she smelled him. The familiar notes of woody spice made her spine tingle.

She turned, expecting him to have a furious expression on his face. But instead there was a hint of a smile. Was it weird she felt almost disappointed about that?

“Good morning to you, too,” she murmured.

“Coffee?”

“No thank you.”

He hung his expensive gray wool coat on the hook beside the fireplace, then pulled out the chair opposite Holly’s.

“Please sit down.” She didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

“Thanks.” He smirked, stretching out his long legs and folding his arms across his crisp white shirt. “What are you doing?”

“I’m knitting a scarf.”

He chuckled at her obvious lie. Holly looked up, exasperated. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I was wondering if anybody can come to your show tonight.” He pointed at the flier.

“Anybody, as in you?”

“Yep.” His lips were still curled. Why did he have to be so damn happy? It made her feel crankier than ever.

“I thought you were leaving town.”

Josh lifted his hands up, turning them over as though inspecting them. “Nope, still here.”

“And why’s that?” Her eyes rose to meet his. And no, there was no connection there. The electricity shooting through her body was probably static from the fire.

“Because I’m kind of liking it here in Winterville.”

She tipped her head to the side, the ledger in front of her forgotten. “You are?”

“Yep. And now that I hear there’s a show tonight, I’m glad I stayed.”

Holly let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not a show, it’s a protest meeting. A protest against your redevelopment.”

“At my own theater.”

“What?” Holly blinked.

“You’re holding the protest meeting at the theater I own. In the town I own.” He didn’t look in the least perturbed by it, either. “So I guess I’m kind of interested in what happens next.”

“You own the theater?”

“It’s included in the sale. And your family signed the contract.”

Why the hell hadn’t she thought of that? Of course he owned it.

“But you haven’t transferred the money yet.” She was almost positive of that fact. Her mom and uncles were haunting this town like the ghosts of Christmas past. Once they got their grubby mitts on the cash they’d be out of here faster than a speeding bullet.

“It’s in escrow. Due to complete by December twenty-sixth.”

“Merry Christmas to us.”

His lips twitched. “It’s okay. I’m happy for you to hold your little meeting in my theater, as long as I get an invite.” He had that thing in his hand again – whatever it was. She squinted her eyes to try to get a look, but all she saw was a flash of white. Noticing her scrutiny, he closed his fingers and shoved his hand into his pocket.

“Here you are,” Dolores said, pushing a tray in front of him. “Now I know you said you didn’t want anything to eat, but I know how much you like these danishes. I made them myself this morning.”

“You know me too well,” Josh told Dolores, who beamed widely.

“Enjoy.” She glanced at Holly. “Are you sure you don’t want a top up, sweetheart?”

“I’m good, thank you.” Holly shook her head. As soon as Dolores walked away, Josh took a huge bite of danish, the crumbles falling over the table.

“Hey,” Holly said, dusting off the ledger. “Can you try not to eat like a caveman?”

Josh swallowed his bite with a mouthful of coffee and looked up at her, his warm eyes full of scrutiny. “You definitely remember that night with me.”

“Are we back to this again?” Holly gave a mock sigh. “I’m so sorry your prowess wasn’t enough to break through my psyche. I’m sure I had a really nice time though.”

Josh looked at her through thick eyelashes. “Admit it.” His voice was low. Cajoling.

“Show me what’s in your pocket,” Holly replied, lifting an eyebrow.

“You really want to see?”

Holly nodded. It was weird, but she did. She couldn’t work out what the hell it was, and it was niggling at her.

“And if I show you, you’ll admit you remember that night?”

She tipped her head to the side, as though she was considering it. “If you want me to lie to you.”

“Then I’m not showing you anything.” His eyes were warm. Almost sparkling. “Come to dinner with me tonight instead.”

Holly blinked at his abrupt change in conversation. “What?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. Maybe we can come to some mutual arrangement. A quid-pro-quo.” The way he said it, with a thick, graveled voice, made her feel like he wasn’t talking about her memory or what was in his pocket at all. But something different and altogether dirtier.

And damn if her thighs didn’t clench tight at the thought.

“I’m busy tonight.”

“With the show?” He nodded. “Come afterward.”

“I have to wash my hair.”

He laughed, and it almost took her breath away. It made him look carefree and boyish and so damn attractive that she had to clamp her lips together as to not let out a sigh. “Before I leave this town, you’ll tell me you remember.”

“Why are you so desperate for me to remember a night that happened years ago?” Holly tipped her head to the side, trying to work him out.

“I’m not desperate for you to remember. I know you remember. I just want you to admit it.”

“Why?” she persisted.

“Because I always play to win.” There was an intensity to his voice. It sent a shiver down her spine.

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked him. “Because you think this is a game?”

Josh’s gaze caught hers. He said nothing, surveying her as though she was a mystery he wanted to solve. She felt her cheeks warming at his scrutiny. At the memory of the night she’d known exactly how well his body molded against hers.

She didn’t want to admit that she remembered him. That she still could almost feel the warmth of his skin, the softness of his kisses, the deep rumble in his throat as he brought her to the edge of pain and pleasure.

Because if she admitted it, he’d see the truth in her eyes. That she’d hoped for more than one night. That for a year after he’d left she’d expected him to contact her. He’d left her a note, and she’d kept it folded neatly in her purse until it was clear he wasn’t coming back and she’d set fire to the damn thing

“I stayed because you’re trouble,” he told her. “And I want to make sure this sale goes through without a hitch.”

“So much trouble you think it’s funny we’re holding a protest meeting in the theater you own?”

He was smiling again, and damn if she didn’t want to wipe it right off his face. With her lips. And her tongue.

And maybe her inner thighs.

Ugh. Why did he have to be so attractive?

He finished his danish, washing it down with the remainder of his coffee, his eyes still trained on hers. Her gaze didn’t waver. It felt like some kind of challenge. Watch Josh Gerber eat his breakfast and pretend it didn’t make her think of sex. See a flake of danish cling to his bottom lip and pretend she didn’t want to lick it off him.

Notice the way his throat undulated as he swallowed the last of his coffee and don’t think about how she’d love to kiss her way down his neck, then the dip of his throat, tearing open the buttons of his expensive shirt to expose his beautifully toned body.

“I’ll see you tonight, Holly,” he murmured. It felt like a promise.

“Yes you will.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and his eyes flashed.

And as he walked out of the café she wondered how long she’d keep lying to him.