“Sometimes people need to fix their own shit. Otherwise, they’ll never figure it out.”
“I don’t think helping someone carry a box is that deep.”
As if Carter’s words were prophetic, the box slips from Vivien’s hands, falling on the ice and tipping over. Green and yellow veggies scatter around her.
She stands there for a second, stunned. Then her head tips back, blond hair cascading down her back, and she laughs so loud, it echoes down the street.
Surprise punches me in the gut.
Dammit, she really is beautiful.
My legs are already moving in her direction.
“You’re a sucker, Spence,” Carter calls out behind me.
“I’ll meet you at the diner in ten.”
By the time I cross the street, Daphne and Vivien have managed to clean up most of the mess. I pick up a stray zucchini and hand it to Vivien right as she’s standing up.
“Thanks.”
“Let me help you.” I bend over and heave the box into my hands. “Where are we taking this?”
Daphne points. “Over to my car. Thanks, Spence. Always a hero.”
I sigh. I really have made a name for myself, I guess. “I’m glad I ran into you.” I explain about the power outage in Beverly’s neighborhood, and how the inn is full. “You can stay with me until it gets sorted. It shouldn’t be for too long.”
She bites her lip. “Are you sure? I hate to impose.”
Daphne snorts. “Are you kidding? He lives to be imposed upon.”
I set the box in the open trunk and wipe my hands on my jeans. “It’s no trouble. The rooms upstairs are sitting empty, anyway.”
“You should let me pay you, at least, whatever I would have spent at the inn.”
I wave a hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Even though I probably should charge her, in order to keep everything purely professional, but my sense of chivalry overrides any business sense.
“How about I cover dinner, at least for some of the nights I am here? I make a mean carbonara.”
“Sure. That’ll work.”
She sticks out her hand and I shake it. She’s wearing gloves, and yet even her covered fingers squeezing mine makes my stomach dance and my chest ache.
Dangerous.
I step back. “I’ll see you later.”
She and Daphne wave, and I stalk back across the street, focused on getting to my car and going to meet Carter for lunch, even though my mind is already moving forward to potential dinners with Vivien.
It’s a terrible idea. I should keep my distance. Only give her the letters, keep it all business, that’s it.
Distant laughter has me glancing back to where Vivien is standing, her hand on Daphne’s shoulder, bright humor suffusing her face.
I’m fucked.
Chapter Eight
Vivien
