Deal? She blinked and some of the warmth she’d felt toward the stranger faded. When it came to her town, she was highly protective. “I love Holly.” The town was her refuge, always had been. “The people here…all they want to do is create a little magic. Don’t you think the world could use more of that?”
His head inclined toward her. “You’re right. Guess I forgot magic was supposed to exist.”
Now she laughed, ready to forgive him. “We can make our own magic. In Holly, that’s sort of our thing.” And then Jemma grabbed her courage and offered her hand to him. “I’m Jemma White.”
He put the bag of chocolate down on her counter and his fingers reached for hers. His hand pretty much swallowed hers, and she felt the slightly rough rasp of his calluses against her skin. “Grayson Cole.” He didn’t let her hand go.
Her heartbeat was doing a double-time rhythm. What are you doing, Jemma? “It’s nice to meet you, Grayson. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”
He was still holding her hand. Still staring at her but…his gaze was warming. Heating? She swallowed. Twice. Out of your league. He is so—
“Something tells me I’ll enjoy Holly one hell of a lot more than I realized,” he murmured. He let her hand go.
Her fingers were doing that tingling thing again.
“How long are you here?” Jemma blurted.
He smiled at her. Okay, that scar on his lip—it was way sexy. Crazy sexy. Jemma blew out a long, slow breath.
“I leave the day after Christmas.”
In town just for a few days. A handsome, sexy stranger. Someone who made her actually…
Want. Need.
“Thanks for the chocolate, Jemma.”
She liked the way he said her name. All deep and dark.
You are so welcome. Wait—had she said that part aloud?
He turned and headed for the door. She gripped the counter. Hard. Do something! Call out to him! Ask him out! Something!
But she didn’t say a word. None of her friends would have been surprised. After all…Jemma is the good one. How many times had she heard that refrain? The good girl, the one who played by the rules. The one who never took chances.
Because she had taken a chance once…and the results had been the stuff of nightmares.
So she didn’t call out to him. Didn’t stop the sexy stranger as he walked out of her shop. The bell above her door gave a light, happy little peal of sound as he exited her chocolate shop.
And just like that…he was gone.
“Story of my life,” Jemma muttered. She made her way to the front of the shop and flipped around the sign so anyone else coming by would see that the place was CLOSED. Then she took off her apron and hung it up. Her right hand flexed a bit as she walked, and she knew it was mooning over a guy she’d never see again. That was desperate.
But then…wasn’t that her story? Good girl Jemma…she never did anything wild or risky. She always played by the rules. She went out on the occasional date—but was always home by nine.
And never went out on second dates because I froze out those guys.
Yeah, she knew exactly what she did. And she even knew why. What she didn’t get…well, was why she’d been so attracted to the golden-eyed man.
She turned off the music and shuffled to the back of the shop. Her fingers flipped the lights off—
And the bell over her door jingled. She’d flipped the sign to CLOSED but hadn’t locked the door. I was distracted. I should have locked that door!
She whipped back around, her heart racing. It was dark and she saw a shadow at the entrance to her shop—a shadow that appeared muscled, too strong—
“Jemma.”
Her breath whooshed out at the familiar voice. She flipped the lights right back on and saw the gleaming star on Sheriff Brad Fenton’s chest. He stood in her doorway, his hands on his hips.
“Brad, you scared the hell out of me!” She’d known Brad most of her life. Been teased by him as a kid, even briefly—ever so briefly—dated him in high school. Now he was in the friend zone, and they were both very, very good with that situation.
“Sorry, Jemma!” Brad said immediately, putting his hands up. “You know I’d never mean to do that.” His voice was gentle, soothing.
Did he know what had happened to her years before? Sometimes, she wondered if he did because Brad always seemed to be extra careful with her.
She licked her lips. “What can I do for you?”
“I was…supposed to meet an old friend here. Told him to come by, but I was running late. Got held up.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sure I’ll find—”
“Grayson? Grayson Cole, is he your friend?”
Brad’s eyes narrowed.
“He was just in here,” Jemma said quickly. If Grayson is Brad’s friend, then that means he’s a good guy. Not like the sheriff would be friends with a criminal, right?
“Where is he now?” Brad asked. And he looked behind her suspiciously. What? Like she’d have hidden the guy behind her?
“He left a few moments ago.” Left when she should have seized the moment and asked the guy out. Why was she still letting fear control her? How long could she keep letting life pass her by?
Brad advanced, slowly, carefully. Always the way he is with me. “About Gray…” he began, looking all kinds of awkward. “He’s probably not the…the type for you.”
Had she said he was? Or, oh, jeez, had her expression given her away?