“After today, we’re retiring those boots. I’ll find you a pair of Grandma Jean’s. You’re the same size.” I reached for the elastic bandage, and then carefully removed her sock. With painstaking hands, I wrapped the bandage around her ankle. She watched my every movement, barely making a sound until I was finished.
“You’re good at that.”
“My dad taught me. You’re not the first person to fall on the farm. Grandma Jean might be the medicinal guru with her many potions, but I’m the one to come to for cuts and scrapes. You’ll have to take it easy for a couple of days, but it’s only a light sprain so you should be up and moving by the festival. The Spells and Brews Ladies’ Club always set up a booth. You won’t want to miss it.”
Delia blinked in confusion, then nodded. “That’s right, my article. I’m on a deadline.” She paused, then gave me a sheepish look. “Thank you for carrying me back. You were surprisingly helpful for a villain.”
“Or maybe I'm just misunderstood.”
“Maybe.”
Her gaze met mine, and I held it, unable to look away. There was a softness in her expression that I’d never seen from her before. My hand still rested lightly on her ankle, and she shifted to the edge of the sofa, the mittens falling from her lap to the floor. The heat from the fire, and the crackle in the air wrapped around us, drawing us even closer together.
Without thinking, I lifted my hand to brush the side of her cheek, letting my fingers linger at the back of her neck. The softness of her skin and her sharp inhale made my heart thud loudly in my ears. Awareness thrummed through my veins as her lips parted and tension thickened the air.
Inches apart, I could feel her breath, warm and mingling with my own. The scent of vanilla and sugar infused my senses, and I knew I’d taste them on her lips. Hoped to. Her eyes softly closed, and the whisper of my name on her next breath was all I needed to hear.
A loud thud broke the silence, and Delia jerked back before our lips met. Her eyes opened wide. A curse caught in the back of my throat as the door opened, and the overhead lights flicked on. Grandma Jean stood in the doorway, ushering a man rolling a wheeled suitcase into the room.
“It’s right this way. Your room is on the second floor. Take a right at the top of the stairs.”
Another guest? In this weather? I groaned inwardly, wishing I’d had the forethought to take down the vacancy sign. So much for the impassable roads. Was a snowslide too much to ask for?
Delia turned to face the newcomer and nearly forgot she had a sprained ankle. Her features twisted in shock, jaw opening as she stuttered a few incomprehensible syllables.
“S-Simon? What are you doing here?”
Simon?The name was like a lead pipe to the back of the head. This couldn’t be the Simon whose name graced her infernal poinsettia? Also known as, Delia’s Greatest Gift Ever! My luck was bad, but not that bad.
“Do you two know each other?” Grandma Jean asked, confusion knitting her brow.
“Uh, yes!” Delia hopped around the edge of the sofa to stand next to Simon. My fists clenched as she latched onto his arm to keep her balance. “This is my…um…my photographer!”
She brushed snow from his jacket sleeve and then gestured toward the stairs. “Simon, you should have been here hours ago. It’s already getting late. You should get settled into your room. Mine is right next door. We have a lot of…shots to go over. A whole storyboard.”
Of course, they’d be sharing a wall. How wonderful. My insides iced over at the thought of Delia slipping into his room to meet her deadline. Working late by an intimate fire. Sharing coffee first thing in the morning.
Ugh.Where was my saw when I needed it?
“There’s no way you’re going up and down stairs on that foot. You’re changing rooms again,” I grated.
Delia’s mouth flattened into an exasperated line. But Grandma Jean came to my aid.
“No, Jack’s right. We’ll move you into a room on the first floor.”
Simon’s gaze bounced between the three of us. “Right. Then I will meet you in the morning to discuss everything. Sorry to disturb your evening.” He turned to leave but paused. “Oh, by the way, this was sitting on your front porch. I think whatever is inside might be frozen.”
Simon lifted a small cardboard box tied with a gold ribbon from the top of his suitcase. He handed it to me, then retreated from the room, heading for the staircase.
Delia squeezed her fist against her mouth and cringed. “Oops, the danish.”
“How do you know what it is?” I asked, opening the lid. Sure enough, it was a cheese danish with a little card tucked beside it with a note from Becky.
Because it’s your favorite. xoxo Becky.
“Um, she mentioned she was going to leave it for you. It was supposed to be a surprise,” Delia said, scratching the back of her neck.
Grandma Jean nodded and glanced covertly at Delia. “Becky’s thoughtful like that. Come with me, dear. I’ll gather your stuff and bring it downstairs.”
