“The dance won’t start until seven,” Dan remarked as the last antique car drove past. “Anyone interested in walking through the Arts and Crafts tent?”
Amity’s hand shot up in the air. “If there’s food, count me in. Especially if they have pumpkin sage polenta.”
Dan grimaced at the mere thought of the dish. “Who are you?”
“Amity Carter.” Amity’s expression was solemn but her eyes danced. “I’m surprised you can be an effective minister if you have such difficulty with names.”
Hope tried not to laugh at Dan’s perplexed expression. “I want a pumpkin scone.”
John looped an arm around her shoulders as they walked to the tent. “Give me a caramel apple over a scone any day.”
For a second Hope almost stepped away from him, then she remembered there was no need to keep her distance. With Chet, any public display of affection had been strictly verboten. Which was fine with her because she hadn’t really been attracted to him physically. John’s closeness made her feel all warm and tingly inside.
Since the temperature outside had dipped into the forties and the tent was heated, the aisles were packed with people. Hope soon lost sight of Amity and Dan in the crowd but knew their paths would cross again eventually.
John picked up caramel-apple bites at one booth and Hope got her pumpkin scone at another. She’d eaten about half of it when they paused at a small booth with stunning black-and-white photographs.
“Ty,” John said when a broad-shouldered man with a thatch of brown hair asked if he could help them. He extended his hand. “It’s John Burke. And, of course, you know Hope Prentiss.”
“I was glad to hear you were back.” Ty Rowen shook John’s hand, then he turned to Hope. “And I swear you get prettier every time I see you.”
Though the smile remained on his lips, Hope could feel John stiffen beside her at the warmth in Ty’s voice.
“How’s Katie?” she asked.
“Doing well.” Ty grinned at John. “My wife and I are expecting our first child this summer.”
“Congratulations.” John’s shoulders seemed to relax and he gestured to the pictures. “These are fantastic.”
“Thanks. Photography is my thing. I feel blessed to be able to make a living doing something I love.” Ty turned to Hope. “I spoke with your aunt yesterday. I’ll be taking wedding photos at your place in December. I’m not sure who’s getting hitched. Verna was kind of vague about the details but we locked down the date and time.”
“It’s going to be a small ceremony.” Hope thought about mentioning Luke and Laura’s names but she knew Ty’s mother had been a big General Hospital fan. She didn’t feel like hearing the jokes just now.
They chatted with Ty for a few more minutes, with John buying a photograph that Hope admired of McGown Peak over Stanley Lake. She and John had once talked of camping in that area. Perhaps now they’d get the chance.
“I’ll carry it.” John lifted the protective container from the counter. “But the photo is yours to keep.”
“You didn’t need to buy it for me,” Hope said. She’d seen the price and couldn’t justify spending the money on such a luxury.
“While I like making you happy, I admit I have an ulterior motive,” John said with a wicked smile. “I’m hoping every time you look at it, you’ll think of me . . . fondly.”
“I will.” Hope threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you.”
When she released him, he grinned and rocked back on his heels.
“I’m sorry.” Hope felt her face redden as she caught a couple of people staring. “I probably shouldn’t do that with everyone around.”
“Darlin’,” he slung an arm over her shoulder. “Let me make something perfectly clear. You can kiss me anytime, anywhere.”
The next month flew by. John saw Hope every day. Their intimacy remained confined to good-night kisses. Though she still refused to sleep with him or say she loved him, he felt them growing closer. They spent hours sitting in front of the fire talking about what their lives had been like the past ten years and sharing future dreams.
“I don’t understand why you work so much. If you’re not on your laptop doing payroll, you’re busy with Harmony Creek stuff,” John told her one evening in early November as they sat on his living room sofa, a blazing fire in the hearth. Outside, two inches of fluffy white snow blanketed the lawn. The onset of cold weather apparently made Hope think of tax season. Only seconds earlier she’d mentioned again how much she dreaded its start. “I’d think working for Verna and doing payroll for the banks would keep you busy enough. You can’t need the money. Especially when you factor in my income.”
They may not have combined their assets yet, but John wanted to reinforce that they were a team and whatever he had was hers.
Because his arm was around her shoulders, he felt her stiffen.