“Okay, I deserve that. Cheers,” Luke said, raising his beer bottle and clinking it with Nick’s. Luke began to laugh, with Nick joining in along with him. It felt like old times between them when laughter would break out for the silliest of reasons. Little by little, Luke was recovering from PTSD, and with the help of a therapist, Stella, and his family, his older brother had a new lease on life. Being a part of the search and rescue team had given Luke a sense of purpose. Becoming a father had shown him the best parts of himself. His capacity to love had skyrocketed into orbit the moment baby Jade had been placed in his arms.
Stella popped her head around the corner. “Luke. What are you doing hiding away in the kitchen? You need to be out here mingling. That goes for you too, Nick.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Luke said, walking toward his wife and pulling her against him. He leaned down and placed a smoldering kiss on her lips. When Stella came up for air she fanned herself with her hand. “To be continued,” she murmured.
“Oh, get a room,” Nick said, covering his eyes. He loved Stella and Luke, but he didn’t want a front-row seat for their tonsil hockey exhibition. TMI.
“Hater!” Stella said, giving him a pointed look. Her tinkling laughter followed Stella as she departed the kitchen.
“So, you never gave me a straight answer. Are you interested in Harlow?” Luke asked. “Stella’s going to grill me later on about it.”
A sudden sound in the doorway caused both him and Luke to turn their heads. Harlow was standing on the threshold with an empty serving tray in her hand. “I’m sorry to crash into your conversation. I was trying to be helpful.”
One look at her face told Nick that she’d overheard their conversation. She wasn’t quite making eye contact, which didn’t seem to be her style. From what he’d seen so far of Harlow, she was a confident and direct woman, qualities Nick admired.
“Let me take that,” Nick said, moving to take the tray off her hands.
“I better get back to…mingling,” Luke said as he beat a fast path out of the room. So much for Luke’s being a big, bad former Navy SEAL.
After placing the tray on the kitchen counter, Nick turned back to Harlow. He wasn’t going to ignore the elephant in the room. That would only make things more uncomfortable.
“So, I’m guessing you heard us talking,” Nick said, quirking his mouth. This felt like holding one’s hand to a hot fire and hoping not to get burned.
“Pretty much,” Harlow said, making a face. Uh-oh. She seemed a bit displeased. “I hate being talked about,” she admitted. Nick hated the hurt expression etched on her face.
“It wasn’t like that. I promise,” Nick quickly pointed out. “Let’s face facts. Stella is trying to play matchmaker between us.”
Harlow let out a groan. “I literally just got to town. And I’m only here for a year, which may be a year too long.”
“Whoa,” Nick said, holding up his hands. “Do I detect some hostility toward Mistletoe?”
“Oh, it’s not just Mistletoe,” Harlow explained. “I’m not a big fan of small towns in general.”
Nick furrowed his brow. “And yet you decided to live here for a whole year?”
“Yes, but there’s a catch. In exchange for working at Paws, all of my student loans will be paid off by the state of Maine. Getting booed up with someone isn’t my main objective. I thought I’d made that clear to Stella.”
Her tone radiated a saltiness that stung Nick a little bit. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him despite the chemistry he’d been feeling between them. Her words made him feel as if he’d just run into a brick wall.
“Trust me, I know what it’s like to be in the crosshairs of matchmakers.” He emitted a groan of his own. “After a discreet period went by, every matchmaking mama in town tried to set me up with someone.”
A small smile played around Harlow’s lips. She seemed to be a lot more relaxed. “So how did that work out?”
“Until very recently, I was able to play the widower card. I told them that I wasn’t ready to date. Truth is, I wasn’t. My heart just wasn’t in it.” There was no expiration sticker on a broken heart. The very idea of being with someone—going out on a date, holding hands, kissing—had scared the hell out of him. If he was being totally honest with himself, Nick still felt unsure about moving forward in his romantic life.
“And now? Has that changed?”
“Yeah, it has. And if you hadn’t interrupted us, you would have heard me saying yes to Luke. I do like you, Harlow.” Harlow’s beautiful brown eyes widened. Her ruby lips slightly parted. Nick thought he might have heard a sigh slip past them. “And if you’re agreeable, I’d love to get to know you better.” He held up his hands. “I’m not trying to tie you down or take the focus off your main objective, but there’s no saying you can’t have fun while you’re in Mistletoe.”
“True,” Harlow said with a nod. “I don’t have a single objection to having fun while I’m here.”
That was exactly what he’d wanted to hear from Harlow’s lips. It would be a shame if she cut herself off from being social because she was here in town on only a limited basis. From the sound of things, he and Harlow were on the same page. Being permanently booed up with someone was not on Nick’s agenda, although he was definitely ready to put his big toe in the local dating pond. Harlow intrigued him, and he was excited about spending more one-on-one time with her. Nick had no idea where things would end up between him and Harlow, but he was ready for the journey.
***
By the time Harlow got back home from Stella and Luke’s house, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Bands of orange and purple colored the sky, reflecting on the lake in shimmering waves. Harlow took a few moments to breathe in the crisp autumn air and behold the beautiful lakeside view. It was sheer perfection. She let out a sigh. In other circumstances, this place could be a home, a dwelling she would proudly call her own. Harlow hadn’t lived in an actual house since she was a kid. Her condo in Seattle had been nice, but it hadn’t ever felt like a warm, cozy home. Home was Crock-Pot mac ’n’ cheese, a fire blazing in the hearth, and the smell of vanilla potpourri infused in the atmosphere.
In some way, Harlow knew she had been searching for home ever since the age of twelve. Being uprooted from Chestnut Ridge after her father’s death had been akin to having her heart ripped out of her chest. Her family had lost everything. The town—friends and all—had cruelly turned on them. That’s when Harlow had given up on white picket fences and happily ever afters. Those dreams had crashed and burned.
