They drove back to the small café they’d passed earlier—a weathered clapboard building with peeling blue paint and a crooked chimney that puffed fragrant wood smoke into the winter air. Logan found parking right out front, the truck’s tires crunching over gravel. Through windows fogged with condensation, Holly glimpsed red-and-white checkered curtains tied back with faded ribbons. A hand-painted sign swinging slightly in the breeze promised “Mama’s Homemade Soup—Same Recipe Since 1978,” while the aroma of fresh-baked bread and something savory—maybe chicken and dumplings—wafted out each time the door opened.
It was packed inside, but they managed to get the last booth. They had just ordered—Holly opting for a turkey sandwich and Logan for the soup-and-sandwich combo—when the bell above the door tinkled.
Holly glanced around automatically, and her eyes widened in horror. She dove beneath the table so fast she nearly knocked over Logan’s water glass, her dignity sacrificed in exchange for temporary invisibility.
“What?” Logan looked at her in confusion, then turned to see who had come in. “Oh, drat.” He muttered and immediately scooted down as well, both of them now hunched awkwardly in their seats.
“Just our luck,” Logan hissed. “These are the times I don’t miss home and how small it is.”
“Where are they?” Holly whispered frantically.
“I’m not sure,” Logan answered, then carefully peeked around the corner of the booth, keeping his head down. “Uh...”
“Holly?” Before Logan could answer, a familiar female voice came from directly above them. “I thought that was you.”
Holly looked up slowly, then resignedly slid back up to a normal sitting position. “Terry.” Her voice could have frozen water.
Logan slowly slid back up, too, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“I’ve been trying to contact you,” Terry started, but was interrupted by Simon stepping up beside her.
“They’re finding a table for us. Hello, Holly. This is a nice surprise,” Simon greeted her with that smooth lawyer voice he used when he wanted something. His eyes flicked to Logan, then looked away dismissively. “Where is your guard dog, Charlie? I’m surprised she let you out with me lurking around St. Augustine.”
The joke fell completely flat. Nobody laughed.
“Lurking is an apt way to put it,” Logan stated dryly.
“Oh, sorry, where are my manners?” Terry said with overly bright enthusiasm, holding out her hand. “I’m Terry. Holly’s...”
“The woman who is responsible for her divorce?” Logan finished for her, smiling smugly, and shook her hand. “Yes, I know exactly who you and your...” His eyes felldeliberately on the massive rock on her finger. “Fiancé are. Your reputation precedes you back at the Christmas Inn.”
Holly didn’t bother to hide her grin. They both had zero time or patience for these two, who had just participated in playing dirty to try to steal the inn.
“Uh...” Terry pulled her hand back self-consciously and gave Logan a tight smile before turning back to Holly. “I see you’re about to have lunch.”
“We are,” Holly said flatly, knowing Terry was trying to wangle an invitation to join them at their table because there was nowhere else to sit.
“Sorry, sir?” The hostess called to Simon from the front, then made her way toward them. “You can either take one of the tables outside.” She glanced out the window where the wind was clearly picking up, rattling the shutters. “Or you’ll have to wait ten to fifteen minutes for a table inside. But you’ll have to wait outside as we have no seating room either inside.”
Terry and Simon looked expectantly at Holly and Logan, who stared back at them with absolutely no expression.
“Uh...” Terry said again, then forced another smile. “Well, I guess we’ll be going to find another diner.”
“Okay,” Holly said simply, going against everything she’d ever been taught about manners by not offering to let them share the table.
“It was good to see you, Holly,” Simon said stiffly. “Come on, Terry. Let’s go find a restaurant. I told you diners are horrible.”
“Call me, please, Holly,” Terry said before turning and following Simon out the door.
Holly and Logan turned and watched them go through the window. As soon as they were out of sight, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Well, that was awkward and a little childish,” Holly admitted between giggles. “But darn if it didn’t feel good.”
“Oh, I’m right there with you,” Logan agreed, wiping his eyes.
Their waitress appeared with their food, setting the plates down with a conspiratorial smile. “I’m so glad you didn’t invite those two to sit at your table. I was holding my breath, hoping you wouldn’t.”
“Oh?” Holly said, looking at the young woman with interest.
