Only for You Page 11

  Because she couldn’t hide her smile any longer she let out a little squeal and clapped her hands together. “Yay. It’s a success then.”

  He surprised her by taking a step closer and feeding her a bite of his own cookie.

  Was it bad that she wanted to lick the crumbs off his fingers? She darted her gaze to the sink, pretending to assess the flavors.

  He waited for a response. “Well, do they get your seal of approval?”

  “They’re delicious. We make a great team.” Their eyes remained locked on each other.

  This isn’t real, she reminded herself.

  Emily grabbed her own cookie off the counter and bit into it. That’s right, she was known to bury her emotions with food. “I guess we should probably take some pictures, huh? Document this date, since we aren’t in public?”

  “Right.” He grabbed his phone and paused, scowling at a notification.

  Emily studied him. “More fans of the show?”

  He swiped to delete the message. “They’re relentless. I’ve lost count of the number of people I’ve blocked this week.”

  “I had another message come in this morning, too.” No sense in keeping it a secret. “Still blocking.”

  Tim nodded. “Good. I’m sorry you’re getting dragged into the drama. If it gets to you, we can reevaluate the agreement.”

  Emily waved her hand. “My messages are mostly just jealous types. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Still holding his cookie, he wrapped a warm arm around her and pulled her close, then stretched his other arm out to take the picture. At the last second, before he tapped the button, he rested his lips on her cheek and kissed her softly.

  Her skin tingled from the brush of his lips, and warmth radiated up her neck. She clung to him a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

  “That’s perfect,” he said, studying the photo before lowering his phone. “I had a really good time today.”

  “Me too.” She searched his face. “So um, you should get to pick our next date.”

  He tapped his phone against the palm of his other hand. “I’ll have to put some thought into it. Are you busy Saturday?”

  She shook her head. “I had planned to be here, but Harlow is working.”

  “Okay, perfect.” He winked. “It’ll be a surprise. Why don’t I go pick up that food now?”

  Emily lifted her apron over her head. “Sure. I’ll tidy up here and meet you upstairs.”

  He left through the back door, and she watched him saunter across the parking lot and round the corner to town square.

  Chapter Eleven

  As promised, Sapphire Springs received another dusting of snow overnight. Cosmetic snow, as they’d referred to it on the radio that morning. Tim brushed a light layer off the windshield while the truck warmed up. Emily should be downstairs any minute.

  He’d put quite a lot of thought into their date today and decided to take her snowshoeing in the wooded area of his family property—the place he’d told her about while they baked. It would be a nice hike, and why not show her the cabin? She seemed to love the story he’d told about going there as a family.

  Some inner voice reminded him that the point of all this was to be seen together in public, but they were seen together all the time, and the thing was, he really wanted to make it a special day. They could always take a few pictures and post them later. The fact that he even considered that nonsense made his jaw stiffen, which was why getting out to the woods was a great idea.

  He’d packed a little lunch and a thermos of hot chocolate for them. After all, her spontaneous idea to bake had turned out to be a lot of fun, so he wanted to make sure his date measured up.

  Seeing Emily in her element, tasting and working in the kitchen, was like being introduced to a whole other side of her he’d never really gotten to know. If it were summertime, he’d take her sailing, so she could see him in his element, but for now, some exploring in the great outdoors would have to do.

  They’d spent so much time together leading up to the holidays, but their conversations almost always revolved around work or council or other small talk pertaining to whatever they watched on TV. Their date in her kitchen was the most he’d ever opened up to her.

  Maybe the most he’d ever opened up to any woman, come to think of it. The image he’d had as a teen of girls flocking to a guy in a spiffy white uniform couldn’t have been further off the mark. Spending months and months at sea didn’t tend to leave a lot of time for meeting women or dating. And with the exception of Melissa, he never stuck with anyone long enough to talk about stories from his childhood.

  He’d managed to keep the agenda for today’s date a surprise, with a few small exceptions. For one, he’d had to make sure she was prepared, so he’d texted her yesterday to make sure she had winter boots, snow pants, and other warm outdoor clothing. He was pretty certain she didn’t own snowshoes, so he checked out a rental pair from the store that he figured would be small enough to fit her.

  Hopefully she would enjoy the day. She liked luxuries in life, for sure, so braving the elements could be low on her list of date ideas. He’d feel bad if she didn’t have a good time.

  The back tenant entrance burst open, sending a gust of flurries scattering about, and Emily walked out on the top step in a black parka with fur around the hood that he’d never seen her wear before. She wore the purple hat and mittens he’d given her and girly fur-trimmed gray boots.

  She had a sexy snow bunny vibe going on, and he was here for it. He sauntered away from the idling truck to meet her. She paused on the landing, bracing her hands on the iron railing to look at him.

  His boots scuffed against the pavement as he slowed his pace. When he reached the stairs, he tipped his head back to gaze up at her, then rested a hand over the chest of his bright red bomber jacket and summoned his worst British accent.

  “See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek.” He trailed off, his laughter bouncing off the brick buildings and echoing across the stillness of the empty parking lot.

  Emily snorted, her cheeks a little flushed. “You can still recite Romeo and Juliet? Eleventh grade was quite some time ago. Mr. Beckwith would be proud.”

  He offered a hand to help her down the steps. “Come on. I’ve got coffee in the truck, and I picked us up a couple of breakfast sandwiches.”

  “When are you planning to tell me where we’re going?”

  He opened the passenger side door for her, and she hoisted herself up into the cab. He closed the door and went around to the driver’s seat. Shifting the truck into reverse, Tim glanced at her and then into his rearview mirror. “Remember the story I told you the other day about the cabin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well that’s where we’re going. I’ve got a pair of snowshoes for each of us in the back of the truck and some lunch packed in a cooler.” He held his breath, unsure if she’d like it or hate it.

  She twisted toward him in her seat. “Are you serious? That’s such a great date idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Hell, yeah. I can’t wait to see this place. That’s a really thoughtful date.”

  They picked up speed as Tim navigated out of town. Flurries grew to light snow, and more and more trees whizzed by the windows.

  Emily sipped her coffee, and when they hit a bump, some splashed up out of the cover and into her face.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” Tim eased off the gas pedal. “I didn’t realize that pothole was so bad.”

  Her shoulders shook with laughter, and she wiped at her chin. “You can dress me up, but you can’t take me anywhere.”

  Man, Melissa would have freaked if his driving resulted in coffee spilled all over her. How refreshing to spend time with somebody who could laugh at herself.

  “It was as much my own clumsiness.” She set her coffee back in the cupholder. “I’m always doing stuff like that.”

  Relaxing his shoul
ders and tapping the steering wheel to the song on the radio, Tim glanced at the rearview mirror. A dark SUV had been hovering right on his bumper for a good five minutes, and because it pissed him off, he sped up a little.

  Something niggling in the back of his mind had him taking a last-minute detour, but when he glanced in his mirror again, the vehicle still tailed them.

  “Everything all right?” Emily asked, glancing at him.

  “I’m not sure. I think we’re being followed.”

  “Are you for real?” Emily sat up straighter and eyed her side mirror.

  He veered off on another road to see if the vehicle would follow, and sure enough, it did, though it slowed a little, probably to dial back the obviousness. Well, that settled it. They’d take the most roundabout route possible, because he sure as shit wasn’t leading some creep straight to his mother’s door.

  Tim turned down another road and pressed the pedal to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Emily grip the armrest. “Hold on.” He jerked the truck onto another side road, and then a gravel one, sending rocks flying. This was a shortcut he normally avoided due to steep hills and sharp turns.

  When the SUV no longer trailed behind them, he slowed down some and released a long breath. Take that, asshole. “I think I lost them.”

  Emily still gripped the armrest, her knuckles white. “Do you think it was a fan of the show?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. Or one of the entertainment columnists I haven’t called back.” It had to be. Who else would follow him around? He reached over and squeezed her hand before turning down the quiet road toward the house where he grew up. “You okay?”

  She exhaled a choppy breath. “Yeah, I think so. It just goes to show how obsessed some of these people are.”

  He passed Mr. Thompson’s house and turned into the driveway. “Just to be safe, I think I’ll park my truck in the empty space in the garage in case whoever it was decides to play detective and drive around the neighborhood. I don’t want these people to start bothering my mom.” He jumped out of the truck for a second to pull up the garage door. It seemed a little over the top, but he’d feel better knowing there was no trace of him in her yard. Once he was back inside the truck, he eased it into the garage.

  Before they got out, he rested a hand on Emily’s leg, halting her. “Let’s not mention this to Mom. She’ll worry herself sick.”

  Emily nodded. “For sure.”

  “And don’t let her freak you out. She’s going to be over the moon I’m bringing a woman over.”

  Color crept into her cheeks but she smiled. “It’s fine. Carolyn and I get along great.”

  Tim started to grab his phone but decided to leave it in the truck for the day. Sure, he should be documenting their date, but they could use Emily’s phone. He needed a break from the constant influx of comments and messages. He just wanted to spend a nice, quiet day with Emily, with no one else chiming in.

  They both hopped out of the truck. Tim grabbed his axe, their snowshoes, and the small insulated backpack containing their lunch from the back of the truck. He pulled the garage door closed behind them, and they stepped out into the fresh country air.

  They found his mother outside, shoveling the little layer of snow off the steps. She propped the shovel against the railing and sauntered down the steps. “This is a surprise. Hi, Emily,” she added, giving her a hug.

  Jeez. He knew his mom had a thing for Em’s cheesecake, but he hadn’t realized they were on hugging terms.

  “I’ve been hassling Tim to bring you over for dinner ever since I heard the two of you were seeing each other.”

  “My invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail, huh?” Emily winked at his mother and playfully elbowed him.

  Heat spread up his neck. “I just hadn’t gotten around to asking, I guess.” He shot his mother a look when Emily’s back was turned. “We’re going to snowshoe back to the cabin. Since Em and I are co-chairing the Maple Magic Festival, I thought I’d show her our old setup.”

  Thankfully, Emily was digging in her pockets for something and didn’t notice the smug smile and eyebrow lift his mother shot him. He’d be grilled later.

  His mom gave his forearm a squeeze. “Well, I won’t keep the two of you. Have fun, and if you have time when you come back, stop in. Or not. No pressure.” She waved before trotting back up the steps and disappearing into the house.

  “You ready for some much-needed privacy?”

  “After that experience?” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s do it.”

  He took one last look over his shoulder at the deserted road before they made their way through the backyard to the edge of the woods and put on their snowshoes. Tim secured the axe to his belt and strapped on the backpack, and they began to crunch through the snow under the umbrella of ancient pines. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting slivers of sparkling light across the snowy path ahead of them.

  Emily released a contented sigh but didn’t speak.

  She was normally so chatty, making small talk, asking questions. But here, on this peaceful early morning trek through the woods, she seemed to embrace the quiet as much as he did. Her nerves from the drive no doubt took some time to level out, too.

  Tim drew a deep breath in through his nose. Like the maple in the cookies, the scent of pine on frosty air brought back a lot of memories, too. He and his sister tossing snowballs at one another, or their childhood dog, Pluto, bounding ahead to get to the cabin first.

  The tension in his shoulders subsided.

  They continued for quite a while before Tim broke the silence. “We’re starting to see some maple trees. These, and the rest leading back to the cabin, are the trees we used to tap.”

  “So how do you actually know when to tap a tree?” she asked, glancing at him. “How do you know the time is right?”

  Some branches hung low over the trail, and Tim held them out of the way, letting them spring back after she’d passed, sending a little dumping of snow across their path. “It all depends on the temperature. Normally in our area, it’s anytime from mid-February to early March. You need a stretch of weather when the days are mild—above freezing, but the night temperatures still fall below freezing. The fluctuating temperatures create pressure in the tree, causing the sap to flow.”

  Tim slowed his pace when he caught sight of the rustic cabin’s weathered logs. “Here it is.”

  Emily took a few steps closer, and her eyes traveled up the large grilled windows. “Wow. It’s so peaceful, tucked right into the trees. You’d never know it’s back here.”

  That was the best part of all.

  He pointed to a fireplace he and his dad had built out of dry-stacked rocks. “We’d always build a big fire here, and Mom kept a bunch of pots and stuff inside for boiling the sap.”

  He unlatched his snowshoes and went around the side of the cabin to the spot under the eave where they hid the key behind an ancient hornet’s nest. “Come on in. It isn’t much, but I’ll show you around.”

  He made fairly regular trips back to check on it. Everything was as he’d left it last time he was there. A little pile of wood next to the small woodstove. A deck of cards in the middle of the table. Candles and some camping dishes on the shelves, and a big plastic tote containing all the linens.

  She turned in a circle, taking in the rafters and the frost on the large windows. “Did your father build this?”

  “He did. He and my uncle.”

  “Wow. It’s really nice. Did you guys ever camp out here, or did you mostly come for day trips?”

  “Dad and I camped out here a few times. There are a couple of bunks in the loft, but since our house is only a short trek away, it rarely seemed worth the backache. It could easily be fixed up though, made more comfortable.” He didn’t mention escaping here back in October for a few days when sailing season was over and he’d craved some solitude.

  She shivered and pulled her collar tighter around her neck. “Makes sense.”


  He grabbed a couple of folding lawn chairs from a cubby under the stairs. “Let’s go back out, and I’ll build us a fire in the firepit so we can warm up. I think it might be colder in here than it is outside.” He got her set up with a chair and carried a little bundle of wood out of the cabin.

  “I’m going to have to split some kindling.” He shrugged out of his coat and passed it to her. Then he brushed a mound of snow off a stump and took his axe out of its sheath. Standing the first log on the stump, he gripped the ax. He chopped through it effortlessly, sticks of kindling falling to the ground with each satisfying snap. When he judged the pile adequate for a couple of hours of burning time, he glanced up.

  Emily held on to his coat, staring at his forearms.

  He bit his lip to stop the smile from spreading. Not too many of her pretty boys probably split wood, and if he had to guess, he’d say she liked this side of him.

  She tore her eyes away and scrambled out of the lawn chair. “Nice work.” She helped him back into his coat, which he didn’t bother to zip.

  He got a fire going, and they pulled their chairs up to it. “You want some hot chocolate to warm up?”

  “Have you ever known me to turn down chocolate?”

  He took a thermos from the backpack and held it out to her. “Unfortunately, I forgot cups, so we’ll just have to pass it back and forth.”

  “No worries here.” She sipped and a smile grew on her face. “Mint hot chocolate from Jolt.”

  “Your favorite.” He loved seeing her smile.

  “Tim Fraser, you think of everything.” She removed her mittens and settled back into the lawn chair. “It’s funny, we were talking the other day about scents bringing back memories. Well, mint and chocolate make me think of Nana. When I was a kid she kept these ice cream bars in the freezer. It was like green mint ice cream on a stick, dipped in chocolate—”

  “Canadian Mint!”

  “Yes!” She passed him the thermos. “They were the best. Nana used to pretend they were a specialty item, imported all the way from Canada.” She mimicked her grandmother’s voice and pointed her finger upward for north. “Looking back, I’m sure you could buy them at any gas station around.”