The little dots appeared underneath his reply as Hilary worked on her answer. He waited, his heart beating against his shirt. In front of him, Gertie and her crew ate noisily while casting wary glances at him.
A new message popped up.
Maybe. I need some lavender though. I want to make this pie.And, well, you’re the lavender guy.
I am indeed the lavender guy, he mused. It had a superpower ring to it. He should put that on a tee shirt.
His phone dinged again.
Can you send some? I’ll pay for shipping of course.
It was a no-brainer. He’d put it in the mail tomorrow.
Another message came even before he had a chance to answer.
I don’t expect freebies just because I have connections—ha!
Dane sighed and typed a reply.
Send me your address and I’ll ship it out tomorrow.
Dane didn’t want the conversation to end, but he didn’t want to sound needy either. Her invitation wasn’t really a serious one, but maybe this was enough for now. Taking it slow, he’d check in with her in a few days to see if the lavender came.Ifhe didn’t hear from her first.
Chapter Twenty-One
Fifteen minutes passed since the receptionist at Redville Community Bank led her and Jorie to one of the back offices. Hilary was restless. They were there to finalize a loan extension to finish last-minute details at the inn. Their loan officer, Beth Ontiveras, crossed in front of the glass window of the inner office no less than a half dozen times, a thick manila file pressed against her chest. If that wasn’t annoying enough, Hilary’s chair was uncomfortable. The wooden arms cut into the sensitive part of her forearms, so she grew increasingly more irritated each time the loan officer passed by in the hallway. Hilary slumped against the seat back, sighing, until the tone from an incoming text caught her attention. She leaned forward to pull it from her back pocket, but Jorie’s hand was on her arm.
“Can you hold off until the meeting is over? I’m sure he can wait.”
Hilary was about to let it go, but Jorie’s reference to “he” made her freeze. And it was the biting tone too. Jorie assumed only one person in the world would text her. It wasn’t a stretch, but still.
“You mean Dane.”
Jorie nodded impatiently. “Who else?”
“We’re just waiting. I’ll put it away when Beth comes back.”
Hilary looked down at her phone. Dane joked about booking a room at their bed-and-breakfast if only for a chance to see her. A giggle escaped Hilary before she could stop it. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth before sending back a quick reply.
I told you the room would be pro bono if you give us a good review, she texted back.
Dane sent her a message earlier that morning to check if the lavender arrived. The box came yesterday afternoon via express mail. The scent permeated through the box even before she’d cut through the packing tape. Inside, a glass jar of dried buds sat nestled inside bubble wrap and purple tissue paper. She lifted the tissue to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent. Either Dane spritzed the inside of the box with oil or her brain conjured its sweetness before she unscrewed the jar lid. Hilary couldn’t imagine what his farm smelled like when the fields were in bloom. She’d done a little snooping yesterday. Lavender Lane Farm had a gorgeous website and according to it, the fields were in full color now. She bet it was heaven for the senses.
The ding of another message snapped her out of the daydream.
I’ll leave a good review even if I don’t book one of your rooms, Dane texted.
She sent a shocked emoji.What will you base your review on then?
Her pulse thrummed in her neck. Hilary thought about excusing herself so she could hide in the restroom and keep this conversation going. But Beth came back into the office then, foiling her plan.
Dane’s text popped up.Your smile. That kiss.
Her mouth went dry. She read the words again and a mental image of them locked in an embrace on the dance floor during their last night together paralyzed her. His lips on hers had been amazing, a feeling her body responded to even now just thinking about it.
“I’m not joking,” Jorie said, patting Hilary on her knee. “C’mon. Eye on the ball,” she whispered as Beth sat down again across the desk.
Hilary stared at the spot on her knee where Jorie touched her. Silently, she fumed. It was something a parent would do to a misbehaving child. She glanced up at Jorie, but her sister-in-law had already scooted her chair closer to the desk to look over the paperwork with Beth.
