Her Amish Country Valentine
Autore
Patricia Johns
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18
CHAPTER ONE
JILL WICKEY WAS looking forward to her sister’s Valentine’s Day wedding—but she was dreading it in equal measure, too. After two years of planning, it was finally happening.
Jill’s sister Elsa and her fiancé Sean had picked Jill up from the airport, and her sister had chattered the entire drive about wedding details. It shouldn’t bother her. It didn’t bother her, she told herself. Her sister was excited about her own wedding—that was both natural and good—and Jill couldn’t blame her own irritable mood on her only sister’s happiness.
Soon, they arrived at their great-aunt Belinda’s place, the Butternut Amish Bed and Breakfast. She’d be staying here for the next week and a half. Jill carried her bags up the wooden steps, recently shoveled clear of snow. The bed-and-breakfast was a two-story house, capped with a mantle of snow, a broad, cheery veranda around the front and side, and an attached stable. This was the kind of place that should show well with some nice glossy photos in a brochure, but convincing her Amish great-aunt to do something that splashy would be next to impossible.
The door bounced open before Jill could knock, and their elderly aunt beamed at them from the doorway. She was plump, with pink cheeks and blue eyes that glittered from behind a pair of rimless glasses. Her white hair was pulled back under her white kapp, an Amish head covering that sat over a woman’s bun. She wore a blue cape dress with a white apron on top, and a brilliant smile to match it all. They stepped into the mudroom—a white room with a sink, some shelves on the wall for boots and shoes, and a short, low bench. The side door sported a paned window that let in a flood of natural light.
“Jill!” Belinda pulled her into a hug that smelled of fresh baking. Then she released her and did the same for Elsa and Sean.
“Thank you for letting me stay with you, Aunty,” Jill said.
“As if I’d let you stay anywhere else, dear girl,” Belinda said, shutting the door behind them all. “I’m so happy we’ll have the time together. I know that Elsa and Sean will be incredibly busy, and you and me can keep each other company and catch up properly.”
Jill shot her aunt a smile. Aunt Belinda was a down-to-earth woman who would make this family wedding easier to bear. In a few days, Jill and Elsa’s parents would be joining them here, but Belinda was right—for a few days, it would be just the two of them.
“You know, Aunty, I always think the same thing when I see your sign out front,” Jill said. “You named the place such a cute, homey name, and we could build on that. Butternut Amish Bed and Breakfast would be a great draw for a lot of people in Philadelphia who just want to get away from the city a bit. My coworkers would flock to a place like this.”
“That’s my sister for you,” Elsa joked. “Always working. I think if she ever actually unplugged, she’d melt.”
“Har, har,” Jill said, casting her sister a bland smile over her shoulder. “Why shouldn’t our aunt benefit from my experience? I certainly benefit from hers.”
“Well, your work friends had better not flock,” Belinda said. “I only have the three bedrooms. Besides, the house is on Butternut Drive. That’s where the name comes from. So you might be giving me a little more credit than my due.”
“Very practical.” Jill shot her great-aunt a grin. “But you should make use of my expertise, Aunt Belinda. Advertising is my job.”
Advertising was her life lately, truth be told, and it felt like her job followed her everywhere she went. Even her sister’s wedding. She’d discovered that a potential client was going to be at this wedding, and she was hoping to use the opportunity to convince Kent Osborne that she was the right one for the job. This was a family affair, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t give her career a boost at the same time, did it? Mr. Osborne would be out in Danke, and she did happen to have a few mock-ups with her for his campaign...maybe she could sway him in her favor.
“I’m not sure I’d have what your city people want—not really. I don’t have electricity,” Belinda said, squinting. “And I don’t have TV, or radio, or...whatever it is you Englishers like so much. Wi-Fi. That’s the computer thing, right?”
“Yes, the computer thing.” Jill stepped aside, and her sister and Sean went into the kitchen ahead of her. “But if we spin it right—a getaway from the busyness of the city and slipping into a simpler world—there could be big interest in a place like this. A few nicely placed ads in some travel magazines, and—”
“You’re here for your sister’s wedding, not to work,” Belinda replied, moving ahead of her through the mudroom and into the kitchen. “Come on in where it’s warm. And don’t mind the mess—I’m doing some renovating.”
The sound of splintering wood met them, along with a loud thunk. Jill rushed forward, her bags still clutched in her hands, and she found her aunt standing by the black woodstove, and Elsa and Sean by the table, side by side. A tall, tanned man stood next to an old kitchen cupboard on the floor with a crowbar in his hands. He looked to be in his thirties, with dark, curly hair and a fringe of dark lashes that gave his gaze a more direct look than he might intend. He nodded at Jill, then hoisted the broken wood over to a pile in the corner.
A makeshift shelf stood against one wall, the dishes piled there.
“You’re renovating?” Jill asked. “Now?”
With a Valentine’s Day wedding coming up?
Belinda said, “Thom’s putting in new kitchen cupboards for me. He was supposed to come in the spring, but he had an opening early, and I thought the sooner, the better, with those old kitchen cabinets. There was a big storm and my old roof didn’t hold up to the leaks, so it has to be done. I’ve got a flooring man coming in to do the last bedroom in a couple of weeks, too. What can you do when nature has its way?”
“Thom’s the best,” Sean said. “I’m glad you took my recommendation, Aunt Belinda.”
“That would be your truck out front,” Jill said, looking back toward the carpenter.
“That’s mine.” He pressed his lips together in a friendly enough way without actually smiling. “I’m Thom Miller. Miller Carpentry.”
“Hi. Jill Wickey.”
“I’m using the summer stove on the back porch for now,” Belinda continued, “and most of my dishes—except for the few necessities you and I will need—are down in the basement. But I think we’ll be fine, Jill. We can sort it out together.”
“Oh, someone came by while you were out,” Thom said, turning to Belinda and pulling a scrap of paper out of his pocket. “A Nellie King? She said you were helping her with something.”
“Yes, Nellie!” Belinda nodded with a smile. “I’m her matchmaker, actually. Her father is looking to pass the farm on to the younger generation, and if Nellie can find a nice farmer to marry who can run the place, her father will leave it to her. Otherwise, he’ll leave it to her younger sister who is already married.”
Jill and Elsa exchanged a look. Their great-aunt’s matchmaking had always been a constant source of interest for them. Amish ways were just different, and in a lot of ways staying at the B&B was like stepping into another world.
“A younger sister jumping the line to inherit because she got married?” Elsa sounded just the tiniest bit smug.
“Hardly fair,” Jill replied. “She could run that farm with a band of girlfriends, if she really wanted to. I don’t see how a husband makes the farm any more profitable.”
“A husband means children, and children inherit that land after her,” Belinda said. “Profitability matters, but inheritances are a higher priority still. Her father is trying to keep that land in the family.”
It irritated Jill all the same, but arguing Amish ways with her great-aunt wasn’t going to change how things worked here. And maybe the Amish had a more practical solution to these things.
“You’re a matchmaker, Miss Belinda?” Thom spoke up.
“Just Belinda, Thom.”
“Sorry, ma’am, I don’t think I can do that,” Thom said with a small smile. “If I can’t call you Mrs. Wickey, then it’s going to be Miss Belinda. I just can’t do differently. My own elders would roll in their graves.”
“Oh, Thom,” Belinda said with a chuckle. The Amish didn’t use the terms Mr. and Mrs., but Jill understood the discomfort there. It was one of the culture clashes between the Amish and Englishers—or the English-speaking Americans who surrounded them.
“I didn’t know you were a matchmaker,” he said, and he glanced at Sean and Elsa. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Well, if you aren’t Amish, it won’t do much for you,” Elsa said with a chuckle. “Amish women marry Amish men, period. But I could set you up, Thom.”
“No, no,” Thom said with a laugh. “I’m fine. Thanks, though.”
“I have been a matchmaker for decades,” Belinda said. “It’s not the sort of thing we advertise, though. The people who need to know, know.”
“That’s Amish advertising for you,” Jill joked.
“You don’t exactly put out a sign for services like mine,” Belinda said. “‘Quality Amish Matchmaking. Apply within.’”
Jill laughed. “You have a point, Aunty.”
“If Jill here would come to the Amish, I could have her married in a month,” Belinda added.
“I’m a bigger pain in the neck than you think,” Jill joked back. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Neither would I,” Elsa laughed. “She’s known about this wedding for two years and hasn’t filled out her RSVP card yet. I still don’t know if she’s got a plus-one.”
Jill shot her sister an annoyed look. Elsa knew there was no plus-one. Everyone knew it. She’d been incredibly single ever since her sister announced her engagement.
“I already have someone in mind for Jill,” Belinda said with a wink.
“Oh?” Jill said with a wry smile.
“We’ll get to that later. All in good time.” It was Belinda’s turn to look smug.
“So you’re going to...arrange a marriage for this woman?” Thom interjected, not to be derailed from his original curiosity.
“If all goes well, yes.” Belinda took off her thick shawl and headed back to the mudroom to hang it up.
“You know how I was talking about the monogrammed handkerchiefs for the groomsmen?” Elsa said, turning to Jill.
“Uh-huh.”
“I picked them up before we went to the airport, and they’re perfect! They’re just gorgeous. Men like that sort of thing, don’t they?”
“Sure.” Did they? Jill looked over at Sean and Thom. They were the experts here.
“Yeah, sure,” Sean said, and Thom nodded along, although more noncommittal. It didn’t matter at this point. The gifts were purchased.
Elsa was the perfectly domestic sister—the one who knitted her own scarves and mittens and looked like a cute little chipmunk when wearing them. She cooked like a pro, found places that would embroider handkerchiefs at short notice, and she was the first one to get married—which counted for a whole lot with their mother.
“I got one made for Sean as well. Instead of his initials, I put The Dube. It’s our little joke,” Elsa said with a laugh. Her fiancé’s last name was Dubencheski. “Right, honey?”
“Yeah, sure is.” Sean looked down at Elsa fondly.
“He thinks it’s adorable when I imitate his friends,” Elsa said, seeming determined to explain her cleverness here. Then she looked up at Sean and gave a cute little wince. “Oh, we should nail down those plus-ones...”
Jill glanced between her sister and Sean. Sean was the one who knew Kent Osborne—his father’s friend, or something like that. It had occurred to her to ask Sean to speak up on her behalf, but that plan ran the risk of undermining her even more. Her work should speak for itself.
“I know you’re always so busy with work,” Elsa said, turning back to Jill, “and way back when I first sent out the Save the Dates, you said you might bring someone, but it’s been months since then, and I thought maybe you had someone special, and...well, I thought I’d check.”
Right. Except that Jill was the workaholic who never had time for love—at least that was the way Elsa saw her.
“And I should say I’m going to be downright offended if this is how I find out about some boyfriend!” Elsa said, and she laughed. She turned to Sean and Thom. “The backstory here is that Jill is ridiculously private. Either she never has a man in her life, or she’s hiding him. And honestly, I have no idea which way it goes!”
“Hilarious,” Jill said. “I’m a busy woman, Elsa.” The last serious boyfriend Jill had she’d kept private...and then they’d broken up for some very good reasons before she’d ever told anyone he existed. So in her sister’s defense, she certainly appeared to be chronically single. Everyone had their roles here, and they’d be playing them for an audience.
“There’s always time for love,” Elsa said with a beaming smile. “I made time, didn’t I?”
And she’d done it first. Elsa was the success in her personal life, and Jill was the success in her professional life, which was generally thought to be not as important.
“So a plus-one?” Elsa prodded. “Yes? No?”
The assumption was that Jill would come to Elsa’s wedding, smile for the pictures, cut a rug with whatever single uncle needed a partner on the dance floor and go home early. And that mental image of how the wedding would very likely go irritated Jill.
“Elsa, not now,” Sean murmured, shooting Jill an apologetic look.
What if she did have a date? What if her focus on her career wasn’t a detriment to her social life? What if her financial success wasn’t a sign of romantic failure like everyone seemed to assume? It was possible for a woman to be both successful in her career and have a romantic life.
“You have those colleagues who could come,” Elsa said to her fiancé. “It’s important for your work schmoozing. If Jill doesn’t have a date—”
Work schmoozing, indeed. As if Jill didn’t have her own to do. The mature thing would be to tell the truth and let her sister think whatever she wanted, but somehow when Jill opened her mouth, what came out was, “I do have a date, actually.”
“What?” Elsa’s smooth, cheery voice was gone, and in its place was surprise. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” Jill said. “Thanks for checking in about that.”
“Oh. Great. Um, that’s really nice,” Elsa said. “Who?”
“It’s just a casual thing—” Jill inwardly winced. This was a new low. It was a blatant lie, and Jill wasn’t the lying kind.
“Oh.” Elsa nodded a couple of times. “Seriously? I find out like this?”
“I have a date, not a marriage proposal. I’ll tell you stuff when you need to know, kiddo,” Jill said, shooting her sister a smile. “Enjoy your wedding prep. You only do this once, right?”
Elsa hated when Jill called her kiddo, and Jill knew it. She also didn’t care at this point. Her lie was embarrassing, and Jill had only made this worse for herself.
“We should get going,” Sean said, slipping a hand around Elsa’s waist and tugging her toward the door. “We’ve got that meeting with the caterer, right?”
“Right.” Elsa’s earlier cuteness was gone, but she followed her fiancé to the door. “I’ll see you later, Jill. Bye for now, Aunt Belinda.”
“Goodbye, dear,” Belinda said.
“And take good care of my great-aunt’s kitchen!” Elsa added, casting Thom a smile.
“Will do.” Thom’s tone was flat, though, and Jill hated that this whole scene had played out in front of a stranger—a stranger to her, at least.
Jill’s gaze slid out the big window toward the road as an Amish buggy passed by, the horse trotting cheerily in the chilly air, breath billowing out in front of it.
As Elsa and Sean left, Jill wondered what it would be like if finding someone to spend her life with was as simple as sitting down with a local matchmaker. But life and love were not that simple. Jill wasn’t Amish, and if she were, she wouldn’t have the freedom to pursue the career she loved, either. There was always a price to pay, wasn’t there?
Belinda came back into the kitchen. “You two girls always seem like you’re in a battle.”
“Because we are,” Jill said.
Thom turned back to his work, and Jill was glad to be ignored.
“You’re sisters,” Belinda said, mild reproval in her voice.
“She doesn’t care one bit about those extra spots for Sean’s colleagues, you know. She just wants to rub in my single status.”
“But you have a date,” Belinda said, frowning.
“No, I don’t,” Jill said, keeping her voice low. “I...lied.”
“Jill...”
“I know! I feel ridiculous. But I lied. I just wanted to shock her for once.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not normally this petty. I’m a bit sensitive about the whole thing. Besides, there’s a potential client who’s going to be at the wedding, and I’ve been rather focused on how to try and land his campaign, and that would only strengthen Elsa’s view of me.”
“Why not take Thom?” Belinda asked.
“What?” Jill asked in surprise.
“Thom, why don’t you go with Jill to her sister’s wedding?” Belinda said, raising her voice to include him in their conversation. “That would work nicely. She just told her sister she’s got a casual boyfriend who’s her date, and it was a bit of a fib, and she needs someone to fill in.”
So much for discreetly keeping the cute carpenter out of this.
“Aunty!” Jill said, her cheeks now flaming hot. “Just because he’s here and he’s male?”
“And because he’s very decent, and I like him a lot,” Belinda replied. “You want to land that client, you said, right? And if you just come at him at the reception, it will come off wrong. He’ll likely think you’re romantically interested in him. In this situation having a date would be helpful, would it not?”
“It would be...” she admitted. But her aunt’s ability to think through this level of deception was a surprise.
“Thom has a good reputation around Danke with the Amish and English alike. Plus, he’s a handsome enough young man, isn’t he?” Belinda smiled sweetly in Thom’s direction. “What do you say, Thom? You’re single, aren’t you? Are you free this Valentine’s Day Sunday for a wedding?”
THOM CHUCKLED NERVOUSLY. The older woman peered at him expectantly while her niece’s face bloomed pink. Sean and Elsa had already driven away. He knew Sean from their school days, and now he knew Elsa through Sean. But he’d never seen Elsa quite like this... Obviously, Elsa and her pretty sister from the city didn’t get along so well. Wow.
Thom took his crowbar to the next cabinet and wiggled it underneath the cracking wood. He levered the nails out of the wall one by one with a creak, trying to buy himself some time. He hadn’t expected this, and he wasn’t sure how serious the old woman was. He had his own reasons for being cautious, though.
“Is this you matchmaking, Miss Belinda?” Thom asked, attempting a joke.
“What?” Belinda rolled her eyes. “This is me solving a problem. I’m a problem solver, Thom. I understand a complicated relationship between sisters. I had a sister who drove me crazy for years. She competed with me in baking pies, in knitting blankets, and the only thing that helped us was when she and her husband moved to Florida. So I understand the situation. That’s all.”
“What’s this about her needing a man on her arm?” He couldn’t help but chuckle at that one.
“It’s a bit complicated,” Jill said. “And not your problem. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m curious,” he said.
“I want to land a client for the advertising agency where I work. It would help me to get a foot up in competing for partner. If I go and make a pitch to the guy at the wedding, it’s going to look like I’m stalking him. And as my aunt pointed out, he might think I’m trying to hit on him. But with a date on my arm, I come off as less terrifying.” She cast him a wry smile. “But again, this is not your problem.”
Thom grimaced as he popped the last of the nails out, then caught the falling cabinet with one hand, swinging it to the ground before it could fall. He put the crowbar down on the counter and turned back to Belinda.
“Of course it isn’t his problem,” Belinda said. “But a nice meal, a pretty date, dressing up... It might be an enjoyable evening for you, Thom.”
“And you want me to—” Thom spread his hands, and when Belinda didn’t answer, he continued “—pretend to be her boyfriend for a day? Are you asking me to lie?”
That should put an end to it—the Amish were nothing if not honest. And he was the wrong choice if they wanted a man to play a part. He wasn’t capable of it.
“I’m not asking you to do anything!” Jill interjected. “Is anyone listening to me?”
“I’m just asking for a favor, Thom,” Belinda said quietly, completely ignoring Jill’s interjection.
Oh, she was good! He started to smile, but Belinda met his gaze earnestly. This wasn’t a joke. The old woman really did want him to step in and take her rather attractive great-niece to the wedding. And it appeared that neither of them realized he was already invited.
“I’m not good with this sort of thing,” he said. “I think that walking into a wedding with a woman and pretending that you are something that you’re not is asking for trouble. I’m a simple guy. I believe in telling the truth.”
“I like your strong sense of personal ethics,” Belinda said thoughtfully. “And I’d never ask you to lie. I was hoping you could just quietly sit next to her... If you were Amish, I’d have you engaged within a month, too, you know.”
“Miss Belinda, you’re a handful,” he said with a chuckle, and he turned toward the next cabinet, but as he did, he caught a glimpse of Jill Wickey standing there, her cheeks ablaze, her brown gaze cast down. She was embarrassed now, and he hadn’t liked the way her sister had been needling her. That had been rude and uncalled for.
“It’s fine, Aunt Belinda,” Jill was saying. “I’ll tell Elsa the next time I talk to her. And maybe it’ll be good for me to let go of some pride and let my little sister see that I’ve got my own vulnerabilities, too. Right? They can use that extra plate for Sean’s colleague. He’s weirdly connected.”
Belinda shook her head. “If you gave me some time, I could introduce you to a local foot doctor who I think you’d like a lot.”
“I’m here to support my sister.” Jill sounded tired, and she pulled her shoulder-length mahogany hair away from her face. Her phone pinged, and Jill looked down at it. “It’s work. Give me a second, okay?”
Thom watched her wander toward the sitting room. Belinda came closer to him.
“I don’t mean to put you on the spot,” Belinda said. “I apologize if I went too far. But Jill is such a wonderful woman, and her sister does rub her single status in her face rather obnoxiously. Elsa is a sweetheart, but she and Jill have been such opposites all their lives, and truth be told, Elsa has always been a little jealous of Jill’s success. Sisterly dynamics can be prickly.”
This sounded like a whole lot of family drama that wasn’t his business, but all the same, the situation was familiar to him.
“It’s okay,” Thom said. “Don’t worry about it.” He moved to the next set of cabinets and wedged his crowbar under the wood.
“Jill is smart,” Belinda said softly. “Really smart, you know? She’s climbed in her career in advertising because she has a brain that can work wonders. I don’t really understand everything that she does, but I’m so proud of her. I hate to see her feeling like this.”
“Does she visit often?” Thom asked.
“Once every year or two, I suppose,” Belinda said. “She writes me lovely letters, though. She sends me greeting cards that pop up. They’re quite something. Let me find one...” Belinda pulled open a kitchen drawer filled with scraps of paper, some pens. She hadn’t emptied any of this out yet? He felt a tickle of worry.
Belinda emerged with a card that she opened to reveal a pop-up flower garden. He could see neat handwriting on the bottom. To Aunt Belinda. Thinking of you, as always! Love, Jill.
She was intelligent, successful and had a soft spot for her aged great-aunt. And here she was out in Amish Country, about to be embarrassed by her soon-to-be-married younger sister and doing her best to get that new client. Dang. He was starting to wish he could help. But maybe he should think twice before he launched himself into the middle of this.
“Miss Belinda, I’ll need you to empty out these drawers in the next day or so,” he said. “All of this—” he gestured to the countertop “—is coming out.”
“Of course!” she replied. “I’ll do it this evening.”
He hoped she would. Just then, Jill came back into the kitchen, still typing into her phone, then she pocketed it and looked up.
“Sorry about that,” Jill said. “That’s the client who we’re trying to land. I’ve got a couple of mock-ups to give to him to hopefully sway him in our direction. I’ve just let him know that I’m in the area.”
Thom leaned against the counter and eyed her for a moment. Her dark hair contrasted with creamy skin, and she had a very coordinated way of dressing. Her plum-colored woolen pants fit perfectly over her slim hips, and the sweater that looked soft enough to touch was lighter, pinker, and somehow pulled it all together. She was intimidating, in a way.
“Are you meeting up with him?” Belinda asked.
“He’ll come by here tomorrow and grab the mock-ups I’ve prepared.”
“I’m sure he’ll be properly impressed,” Belinda said.
But there was tension in Jill’s face. There was a crack in the confidence. She needed help.
“What if it wasn’t a lie?” Thom said before his rational brain could kick in and stop him. “What if...say, you went out with me a few times, we got to know each other, and when we got to the wedding we could say that we were casually dating?”
“What?” Jill blinked at him.
“You need a date to your sister’s wedding,” he said. “I’m saying, what if it wasn’t a lie?”
“Are you willing to do that?” she asked.
“Oh, you mean the misery of taking you out a few times?” he asked with a laugh.
“No, well...maybe.” Jill tucked her fingers into her pocket, then cocked her head to one side, seeming to evaluate him.
“That was a joke,” he said. “It wouldn’t be misery. I’ve got Miss Belinda’s cabinets to install, but other than that, I do have my evenings free.”
“I do, too.” She smiled then, her face lighting up.
“Look, it’s a Valentine’s Day wedding,” he said. “Miss Belinda is right—I’m painfully single right now. I wouldn’t mind something to do to pass the dreaded V-Day, too.”
“And you’d be willing to be my plus-one to the wedding?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. “But I don’t want to walk into that wedding and make a fool of myself in front of your family, either. I live around here. And I’m a stickler for the truth. So let’s get to know each other, go out and have a good time, and then if I act as your plus-one, at least we won’t be lying to everyone in that room.”
“I’d be okay with that. I wouldn’t ask you to lie. I have that business connection I want to speak with when I see him. If you’d be willing to stand there and smile, and maybe make yourself scarce if we start talking business...”
“I’d be your little trophy on your arm?” he joked.
“I know how offensive this sounds...”
“No, no, it’s fine. How many men have used the right woman on their arm to do the exact same thing?”
“Elsa and Sean will have to believe we’re something more,” Jill said. “Sean knows this guy.”
“You think Sean would ruin this for you?” Thom asked.
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Is this too much to ask?”
Yes, it absolutely was. But what else did he have to do with his Valentine’s Day weekend? He might as well overcomplicate his life and distract himself from his own mildly depressing reality.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Are you free tonight?”
“I am.” She met his gaze. “What did you have in mind?”
“I can show you the skating pond, if you like that kind of thing.”
“I don’t have any skates,” she said.
“I have several pairs that I lend to my guests,” Belinda said. “I’m sure I have some to fit you. You should get out and have some fun, Jill. A good rest will help your productivity later at work, too. Exercise and fresh air is good for the brain.”
Jill cast her aunt a smile. “Getting rid of me?”
“Only for a couple of hours,” Belinda said, batting her hand.
“Well...then, yes,” Jill said, her warm gaze swinging back to meet his. “That sounds fun.”
“Great.”
He was on the hook now, and he was feeling a sudden rush of misgiving.
“I shouldn’t keep you from your work,” Jill said. “It’s nice to meet you, Thom.”
“See you later on,” he said, and he forced a smile. Yes, this was rash, but it was a distraction from Valentine’s Day and all the hopes it contained for people already settled into nice, sensible couples.
Jill and Belinda went up the creaking stairs, each carrying one of Jill’s bags, their soft voices filtering back to him.
It looked like he had a date for Valentine’s Day. Imagine that.
