It was hard for him to truly enjoy the view, though. He was still kicking himself for his actions the night before.
He should never have kissed Holly.
He might have put their first kiss down to a one-off, a momentary lapse of judgment. The night before had been different. He had thought about kissing her all evening as they walked through the market. He had been enchanted by her and by Lydia and kissing her again had seemed inevitable, especially when she had looked so soft and sweet in the moonlight.
I spent nearly a decade with a man who was absolutely the wrong person for me. You can be sure I’m in no hurry to walk that road again.
Their conversation in the store replayed through his mind. She was right. Like her ex-husband, Ryan was another man who was completely wrong for her. No question.
While he wasn’t thrilled his sister apparently had talkedabout him at length with Holly, he couldn’t disagree with anything Kim had told her. He had no intention of developing a serious relationship with anybody. Ever.
He had figured out a long time ago that he wasn’t cut out for it. The women he’d dated in the past had been quick to point it out. He had a tendency to keep his emotions locked up tight, like classified files he never gave anyone authorization to access.
They weren’t wrong. He’d always assumed it was a self-protective mechanism, a scar left behind from losing his mother when he was really too young and immature to make sense of it. From those years in military school, when any hint of vulnerability, of weakness, turned someone into a victim. And from the years of navigating his father’s sharp edges and colder silences.
The kind of picket-fence, happy-ever-after relationship she deserved wasn’t for a man like him.
And yet, Holly.
She was different. She was warm and steady, with an internal strength that had nothing to do with stubbornness and everything to do with how fiercely she loved the people in her life.
He could see it in the way she cared for Lydia, in how she smiled even when it was clear the world had given her every reason not to. She deserved someone who could match that strength, someone who could give her all the things she gave so easily.
Someone who wasn’t him.
There was also the small matter of the life he’d built for himself. All the promotional brochures were right. His career in the navy was more than a job. It was a calling. It demanded everything. His time, his focus, his freedom to move wherever the next assignment took him. Holly’s life, her roots,were firmly planted in Shelter Springs. She had Lydia to think about, a home she’d worked hard to create. He couldn’t ask her to leave all of that.
She deserved better. No matter how much he wanted to kiss her again, to stay lost in the warmth of her laughter, the pull of her gaze. Wanting didn’t change anything.
He had to wonder why that should leave him feeling as if the sun had been swallowed by dark, ominous clouds.
He turned his attention to the task at hand, which was the way he had been taught by the colonel’s example to deal with any tough emotions.
Subvert everything and do what you have to do.
The flowers were for someone named Eliza Caine. He followed the address to a huge house on a slope overlooking town. While the property looked exclusive and prosperous, there was a warm, homey feeling to it. A trio of snowmen in different sizes adorned the yard, wearing brightly colored scarves and hats. Several bird feeders hung from the trees and a couple of horses raced along a fence line as he approached the house.
After pulling the large arrangement from his truck, he carried it to the front door and rang the doorbell.
After about thirty seconds the door opened and an adorable little girl with curly blond hair gazed back at him. She held a stuffed unicorn in one hand and, oddly, an umbrella in the other. The scent of sugar cookies and pine trees and cinnamon wafted through the open door, reminding him sharply of the appealing scent at Rose Cottage.
“Hi,” she chirped in a friendly voice.
“Hi there. Is your mom or dad around?”
“My mom,” she said, making no move to do anything other than smile at him.
“Could you... get her for me?”
She appeared to consider this for a moment then nodded. As she turned to go, a woman hurried around the corner.
“I’m sorry. We’ve told her not to open the door by herself but she loves hearing the doorbell ring. How can I help you.”
“I’m looking for Eliza Caine.”
“That’s me.”
“Then these are for you,” he said, holding out the mini-Christmas tree of flowers.
