Holden lowered his volume. “Rachel, I really don’t know how else to put it. I snuck onto your property and I measured your parents’ tree. That was dumb. I’m sorry.”
“And you led me to believe you were someone else this whole time.”
“I don’t remember you being very forthcoming about your identity either, Mittens.”
Her eyes practically shot icicles at him.
Noted. He needed to retire that nickname altogether.
“All I’m saying is, I think we were both having a little fun with the mystery of it all.”
“And that mystery is completely gone. I know exactly who you are, Holden Hart.”
“And who’s that?” he challenged. “Because I don’t know about you, but I think I’m different from the kid I was in high school.”
She gave him a clipped once-over. “You might look different, but the fact that you trespassed onto our property and lied about your true identity shows that deep down, you’re still exactly the same kid who will do anything to win.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“Well, that’s a shocker. We never have agreed on much.”
Holden breathed in sharply. “I get that you’re mad. And I get it if you never want to speak to me again. But can’t we at least be civil? I mean, our parents aren’t really acting that way. Don’t you think we should be the voices of reason in this whole ridiculous thing?”
“I don’t want to be the voice of anything with you, Holden,” she said, chin high. “We’re done here.”
With determination in her step and her head held high, she stormed out of the store and out of Holden’s life. For a second time.
CHAPTER19
She needed to calm down. Rachel hated what the unexpected encounter with Holden had done to her previously untroubled mood. What she hated even more was how—despite all logic—she still continued to find herself attracted to the man. It wasn’t just physical. The way he’d danced around the store with that baby in his arms, as though they were the only two in the entire place, had Rachel’s insides melting like chocolate candy.
She could not reconcile what she knew to be true with what her heart felt. They were at the greatest of odds.
The brisk walk to Bitter Cold didn’t provide the clarity she’d hoped to achieve. In the city, when her mind got hung up on a work problem, a few laps around the block were usually all it took to unravel the situation and see things clearly. Not so this morning. And when she entered the coffee shop and saw Trinity Tillman already at the bar waiting for her drink, she had an idea.
“Trinity,” Rachel greeted. It had been years since she’d seen the woman, but a hug felt appropriate. Trinity’s chestnut brown eyes were warm, the embodiment of the friendly and open spirit Rachel remembered so fondly.
“Hi, Rachel.” She took her drink from the counter and fit a plastic lid onto the cup, then slid it into a sleeve. “I’m so glad you could meet with me. It’s been so long. It’s wonderful to see you.”
“Same to you,” Rachel reciprocated. “Do you have a table?”
“Not yet.” Trinity’s gaze moved about the room. “It’s really busy here today. We might need to wait a little bit for one.”
“It is, which is why I was thinking maybe we could go for a walk.” Rachel shrugged, wondering if the request was an odd one since it was barely above freezing outdoors. “Unless it’s too cold.”
“I’ve been cooped up in my house with two toddlers all weekend. I will take all the winter sunshine I can get.”
Rachel placed her order at the register and within minutes, the drink appeared at the barista bar.
Trinity filled her in on her life as they headed onto Main Street. The woman had the type of easy going nature that made picking up right where they left off an effortless thing to do.
“What brings you into town?” Trinity asked before pressing her lips to her cup to take a drink. She skirted a man with a small, curly dog tugging at the full length of his leash. The dog yapped as they strolled by. “It’s been a few years since you’ve been back, no?”
“I came home to help my parents with the holidays,” Rachel said without divulging too much. “And to research a project for work.”
“What sort of project?”
With her free hand, Rachel fiddled with the frilled edge of her wool scarf.
