Love on a Spring Morning Page 6

  “Nope.” He sighed and took a few more sips of his tea. “This isn’t that bad.”

  “Yeah.” But that was her life. A string of compromised choices, all because her biggest choice of all—her career—made everything else complicated.

  “What would your last meal be?”

  “Pasta,” she said without even taking a second to think about it. “Like, ten bowls of it, until I had a belly ache.”

  He made an amused face. She wanted to twist around again and sit side-by-side. Wanted to stay late and talk about everything under the sun, but if she did that, she’d also want to kiss him.

  Instead, she’d go home and dream about what his lips would feel like on hers. Yet another thing that Holly Cresinski would never taste.

  “Speaking of the tea, I’m getting sleepy.” She smiled at him. “Thank you for the company.”

  “Anytime.”

  She stood up, and he stood as well, his arm brushing her shoulder as they walked down the steps and out to the lane.

  “I mean that, Holly. I’ve got great friends, but they don’t come and visit me at night. I’m lonely, too.”

  “I’m not—” But she was lonely. She just didn’t think she had any other choice.

  “Then come back and keep me company, for my sake?”

  She nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “I have to work tomorrow night, but I’ll be home Thursday. Come over, if you can.”

  She hugged the thermos close to her body. “What time do your kids go to bed?”

  “Eight, usually. Knock on the door if I’m not out here.”

  — —

  Two nights later, there was no excuse, no pre-text. Holly just walked up the lane and sat on Ryan’s porch with him, talking about nothing and everything for more than an hour.

  “I can’t believe you’re surprised I like country music,” she said, laughing as he blushed a little.

  “You just seem so…urban.”

  “I like all music, actually. But I became a die-hard country fan when I spent a few months in Nashville a few years ago.”

  “Working on a movie there?”

  “No, I was between jobs at the time.” She’d been prepping for a role in a movie that got canned. “I was only supposed to be there for a few weeks, but I met my best friend there. We bonded like sisters right away, and when the job I was supposed to do fell through, I ended up staying with her for a while.”

  “I never did that couch surfing thing.”

  Holly hadn’t exactly slept on Liana’s couch—the singer had a six bedroom house and a separate pool house, too. “Well, I’ve never done the settled down thing, so there you go.”

  “Is your life pretty nomadic?”

  “They do a good job of making us feel at home on location. But I dream of working in New York, living in an apartment and walking to a theatre every day. Or even Nashville, although I only have a passable singing voice. But in another life, maybe I would have been a songwriter or something.”

  “Songwriting, eh? So would that be your dream job?”

  She frowned. She didn’t want to lie to him—but he was right, those weren’t realistic job options for a lot of people. “The singing thing is just a fantasy, I promise you.”

  “I’m sure you’ve got a lovely voice.”

  “Oh no, I sound like a strangled cat. Totally tone-deaf. How about you?”

  He shrugged. “My kids like it when I sing to them.”

  “I bet.” He had a lovely baritone voice, rich and warm. She took a deep breath and shook that off. “The New York thing is more likely though. I’m thinking of moving there in the fall.”

  “Now that’s the kind of city I picture you in. More your speed than Los Angeles.”

  “I hope so. I don’t love cities in general, but that’s where the work is. Have you ever been?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t been anywhere like that. Grew up near Detroit, joined the Army as a medic, did a few years, then met my wife when I was at college. Moved here, had three kids. We drove to Chicago once.”

  “I’ve never been to Chicago!” she exclaimed, and he laughed.

  “Glad I could balance out the life experiences a bit.” His voice took on this gravelly tone when he went sarcastic, and it made all her girly bits sit up and take notice. “What else haven’t you done?”

  “Hmmm. That I want to do, or would never do?”

  “Either.” His eyes flicked over her face and he smiled. “Maybe the never would do. What are you scared of?”

  “Spiders. And snakes…I went to Australia once. Beautiful country. Deadly fauna.”

  “Jesus, you’ve really travelled everywhere, huh?”

  “It’s a perk of the job. You never went overseas with the Army?”

  He shook his head. “I was in the reg force between conflicts, and have always been exempted from tours since I joined the reserves. I’m one of the grumpy old guys now, yelling at the new privates. I’m a company quartermaster, so that means I run the unit’s supply room.”

  “Interesting.”

  Huffing a little laugh, he just looked at her.

  “What can I say, I find everything about you quite interesting.”

  They shared a little smile. Before she could ask him something else, a faint, animalistic scream pierced the air. Holly nearly jumped out of her skin, but Ryan reached out and pressed his hand to her leg. “It’s okay, it’s just a coyote.”

  “Holy crap!” She stared into darkness, unsure of the direction the howl had come from.

  He squeezed her knee before removing his hand. “There are some farms to the south. Might be there. If you hear a gun shot in a bit, don’t be alarmed. Licensed hunters are allowed to shoot coyotes on sight.”

  “Are they dangerous?”

  “Definitely for livestock. Not for you, not right here, although I wouldn’t want to meet a pack of them. You don’t have coyotes in Los Angeles?”

  “I don’t know. Probably in the foothills, but I’ve never heard one before.”

  “Well, there you go. Pine Harbour’s given the world traveller a new and unique experience.”

  More than one, she thought as she shifted closer to him.

  — —

  Friday night she brought chamomile tea with her. Saturday night he made her hot chocolate, and they talked about her running.

  “Are you in training for a marathon right now?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do that while I’m working, it takes too many hours out of the week.”

  “You do the long runs that go for hours?”

  She looked at him in surprise, and he laughed. “I’m not a runner, but a lot of guys in the army are. I listen well.”

  He definitely did that. She kept waiting for him to tell her he’d figured out she wasn’t just working on a movie—what did he think she was doing, anyway?—but he never did. It was like he didn’t care about that. He was listening to all the other things she was saying.

  The Holly parts.

  On Sunday night, she did her hill repeats, and when she was done, he had a foam roller and a protein bar waiting for her along with the bottle of water she’d expected.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” she said, as she balanced on top of it and rolled out her hamstrings.

  “But this way, you might stay a bit longer,” he said, kind of gruffly.

  If she hadn’t been all sweaty, she’d have hugged him.

  Once she’d scarfed the protein bar, she asked him about why he had the roller.

  “I pulled my right hip flexor on a military training exercise a few years back. Got that for physiotherapy after. The kids like it.”

  She laughed. “I bet.”

  The next day, Monday, was another killer start to the filming week. After spending an hour with Ryan the night before, it was like dysfunctional whiplash and it made Holly unbelievably grumpy—especially when they didn’t finish until almost ten.

  She thought about not going up to his house
. It was late and wake-up would come early.

  But as they turned onto Blue Heron Lane, she saw him sitting on the steps, and she knew she couldn’t stay away.

  She’d already showered at her trailer on set, so she just grabbed a sweater and slipped out the side door when Emmett was on the phone. It was weird, sneaking around when she was his boss, but she wasn’t ready to deal with his questions yet. And he was a smart, attentive assistant. He’d put two and two together really quickly. She could trust him, though—he’d proven that time and again with her mother.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were coming,” he said as she slid onto her spot next to him. His sleeves were rolled up and her forearm pressed against his. Hot skin and soft hair imprinted on her before she could shift away, and when she did, she ached to slide back.

  “We had a long day.” She tipped her head to the side. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” He licked his lips. “You didn’t bring your tea. Do you want me to make you something?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t stay long.”

  “Early morning, right.” Ryan leaned back on the hand closest to her. She couldn’t break away from his gaze. At least a foot separated them, but they’d both twisted their bodies and now they were facing each other.

  Don’t do it, she warned herself. Don’t you dare kiss him. She leaned in, because she wasn’t that great at taking direction from her moral compass at the best of times, but at the last minute, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder. Staring at the worn grey boards of the deck beneath them, she took a deep breath, then let it out. “This is a really bad idea, isn’t it?”

  He shifted, wafting an irresistible combination of laundry soap and man scent in her direction. “I don’t know,” he said quietly into her hair. “What is this?”

  “Me bringing tea in a thermos. Running up and down in front of your house when there’s a perfectly good treadmill in the house I’m staying in.” Nervous energy coursed through her as she confessed. She turned her head just a bit, just enough to see his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

  “Not just a treadmill. One of the stars demanded an entire exercise room.”

  Oh, bugger. “Ryan, I need to tell you—“

  “No, don’t.” He cut her off, his words low and private. He reached across his body for her hand and she gave it to him, lacing her fingers through his as he moved a bit, settling back on his free arm, closest to her. They were practically cuddling, and it felt better than anything in the world, the hot press of his side against hers, his cheek against her hair. “I don’t care if this is a bad idea. I like it, and I don’t have a lot of things I like about my life right now.”

  But there’s no way he’d snuggle up, side-by-side, with a celebrity. “I know your privacy is important to you, and I’d never do anything to—” she started again, but again, he cut her off.

  “I can’t date, Holly. I have nothing to offer you, so before you say anything, you need to know that this is all I’ve got. A few minutes after my kids go to bed. The rest of my time has to be about them. When I say that I’m a private person, I mean I’ve got some messed up fears about exposing my kids to the world—even other people. I don’t want them to have to deal with any upheaval. I need to protect them, and I can’t do that if I’m distracted.”

  She ducked her head. He definitely couldn’t do it if he was entangled with someone famous, either. She needed to walk away from him, but she couldn’t.

  “My kids are everything to me, so there’s no room in my life for something just for me right now. And I don’t know when there will be. I don’t know when I’d be able to take you out for coffee or to a movie. And you’re a beautiful woman, Holly. You deserve all of that and more. You deserve a heck of a lot more than sitting on my porch, and that’s all I can offer.”

  She wanted to tell him it was okay, that she understood—because she did. But it wasn’t okay, so she sat there silently, her heart aching for him.

  “I don’t have any allusions about what you might see in me, but if you’re thinking of telling me there’s no future, I promise you I already know that. I just…” He dragged in a ragged breath, and she realized this wasn’t just about logistical difficulties of single parent dating. This was emotionally challenging for him.

  She wanted to crawl into his lap and make it all better—and she didn’t even know just exactly what was wrong. “This can be whatever you want. I’m…” She trailed off, too, because this conversation was harder than she expected. “I think we have a connection. You said we’re friends. All I know is that spending time with you at the end of the day this past week, that’s been something special. I don’t want to give that up. So if all we can be is friends, I want that.”

  “I don’t think I want to be your friend.” He huffed a laugh. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

  “I know what you mean.” She turned into him, wanting to hug him. Actually, she wanted to climb him like a tree, but that probably wasn’t an option. No, it definitely wasn’t an option. Hell. She twisted away. “I should go, before I do something stupid like kiss you.”

  Ryan held on to her hand, not letting her go very far, and when she stopped, he tugged her arm until she looked back at him. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes—they were somber and sad. “If things were different…”

  “I know.”

  “Will you come back?”

  Say no. Tell him you’re Hope Creswell and nothing about your life is simple. “Maybe.”

  But she knew she was lying. There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d be able to stay away from him.

  — SEVEN —

  HOLLY didn’t go up to see Ryan the next night. She wanted to, so much, but if they were just friends, nothing more, then maybe every single night was too much.

  She needed some space.

  So when Emmett asked if she wanted to get out of Pine Harbour on Wednesday evening and go shopping in the slightly larger town of Wiarton, she agreed.

  As if the universe thought she needed to be taught a lesson about hiding from her problems, Ryan walked out of the Tim Horton’s coffee shop just as they were about to walk in. Emmett had gotten hooked on the raspberry-jelly filled donut holes he gleefully called Timbits like he was a born and bred Canadian.

  “You go ahead,” she said to her assistant, avoiding his curious gaze.

  “This is a surprise,” Ryan said, stepping out of the way of people heading inside, but he kept his gaze on her face. She turned her back as much as she could, praying she wouldn’t be recognized.

  “You’re going to work,” she said, looking at his uniform. Seeing him all jacked up like that was not good for her unrequited desire for the man.

  “I am,” he murmured, leaning in a bit. “But I’ve always got time to talk to you.”

  She told her fluttering stomach to stop being such a teenage girl. “Good, you’ve saved me from having to look at donuts I can’t eat. My assistant is addicted to the ones covered in white powder.”

  He held up his own brown paper bag, his eyes dancing like he knew he was being bad. “He’s crazy. You gotta go for the fritters. I could share.”

  “So tempting,” she breathed, before reluctantly shaking her head.

  “I know,” he said, his eyes dropping to her mouth, and maybe it was because they were in public, and nothing could happen, or maybe it was because forty-eight hours had eroded her self-control, but she decided to allow herself a little flirt.

  “I like the uniform, by the way. You look good in it,” she’d said as she looked him over again. He looked more than good—taller, broader, stronger in green camouflage. “I mean, you always look good, but you look especially good in that.”

  His grin flashed bright in his face, but before they could say anything else, Emmett came out and Ryan excused himself before she could make introductions—which was for the best.

  Emmett gave her a look, but he didn’t ask and she didn’t offer any explanation for the conversation.
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  She stared out the window as they headed to a local gallery, wondering where in town Ryan’s armouries was located. Where did he go in these few hours of work, when he got to be someone other than Dad?

  Even though he never complained about being a non-stop parent, it still seemed to take its toll.

  She knew a fair bit about his life now, although he never shared anything specific. They mostly talked about hypothetical situations and bucket lists, but every so often he’d reference people in his life, and she’d stitch that piece into the secret patchwork of facts. She thought about that pieced together picture of Ryan Howard a lot when they weren’t together.

  She also thought about how careful she’d been not to give him quite the same access. Soon, she thought. She’d tell him soon.

  — —

  The next night, she almost did, but he’d had a bad day, and she was heading out of town for the weekend, going to Toronto for a press junket… she told herself she didn’t want to dump her career information on him and then run away, but deep down she knew she was just being cowardly.

  So instead of coming clean, she let him tease her about her big city ways and her attachment to hot flower water. She poked him to think about where he might like to take the kids when they were older, and how awesome it would be when they all liked steak. It was a nice visit, but his black mood persisted.

  “You sure I can’t offer you some of my tea?” she asked as she yawned, holding out her cup.

  He growled good-naturedly under his breath.

  She yanked the thermos back. “Okay, it’s not your thing. I get it.”

  He winced. “Sorry. I’m poor company tonight.”

  “Today’s shoot didn’t go well, either. Maybe it’s a full moon or something, everyone’s off kilter.”

  “I’d believe it,” he muttered, but above them the moon was just a sliver. “Of course, my kids go crazy a few times a month, so it’s likely sugar hangover more than anything.”

  ”Mmm, sugar.”