Lissa Manley - Hometown Valentine

“Fair enough,” Jim said, canting his head and nodding. “But nice, attractive, kind women aren’t always easy to come by. Maybe you should keep an eye on Lily Rogers, just in case you change your mind.”

The overhead bell rang, and the lovely subject of their conversation came sailing back into the store, her windswept, damp hair fluffed up around her rosy cheeks.

Blake watched her, his heartbeat accelerating just a bit.

She pointed to the floor next to the chair she’d been sitting in. “I forgot my briefcase,” she said embarrassedly. Bending down, she picked it up and slung it over her slim shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder where my brain is.” She pointed to her head and made a silly expression.

Blake found himself smiling.

Like a pretty whirlwind of constant motion she headed back to the door and with another wave she was gone into the rain-swept afternoon as quickly as she’d reappeared.

Still grinning, Blake turned his attention to Jim. “More coffee?”

Jim shook his head and placed his hand over his cup. “So, the way you tell it, you’re not interested in Lily.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Blake said, infusing an extra amount of certainty into his voice. He had to head this off or Jim would have Blake and Lily on a date this very night and head over heels in love by the weekend. Jim was a hopeless romantic, and fully prescribed to the love-conquers-all theory of life.

Blake thought that attitude was shortsighted and idealistic. Real life had taught him to be wary of letting others gain control of one’s heart.

“Then why were you watching her so intently just now?” Jim asked, his blue eyes trained on Blake like a laser.

Blake’s face heated. Caught. Worse yet, he didn’t have a plausible response. So he just glared at Jim.

Jim chuckled. “That’s what I thought,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “You like Lily, my friend. More than you think you should.”

Blake was very afraid Jim was right.

No matter. He’d probably never see her again.

Chapter Two

Blake rang the doorbell of Molly and Grant Roderick’s house, holding Peyton’s baby carrier in his right hand. It felt odd to be arriving at a social function when his focus for the past month had been on the store and Peyton and nothing else remotely resembling any kind of life. But he needed some kind of social interaction, some kind of break, or he’d lose it. Though he was only acquainted with Grant and Molly as customers at The Cabana, and the one time Blake had come to a singles’ group function had been about a year ago, he was still grateful to them for including him.

The door opened and Grant stood there. “Hey, Blake. Glad you could make it.” With a welcoming smile, he moved back and gestured Blake in.

“Thanks.” Blake stepped through the threshold into an oak-trimmed entryway and set the carrier on the floor. “I appreciate you letting me bring the baby.”

Grant bent down and looked at a bundled-up, sleeping Peyton, smiling. “No problem at all. We all love babies. And it’s good for you to have a break from your killer schedule.”

Blake unbuttoned his coat. “Yeah, it’s been a little rough.” Peyton had slept a little better last night, but had still woken up fussing three times. And Mrs. Jones was still sick, so he’d had to juggle Peyton and the store again today. He really hoped Mrs. Jones was able to work tomorrow; another day doing double duty wouldn’t be good, even though the kid he’d hired as a barista, Jonah, was doing well. Blake was already behind in never-ending paperwork and the general administrative tasks inherent in owning a business. “Thanks.” He took his coat off and put it in Grant’s outstretched hand.

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m so sorry about Anna.” Grant opened a nearby closet and hung up Blake’s coat.

A lump formed in Blake’s chest. “Thanks.” If he said more, he’d probably break down, so he left it at that.

“Everybody’s in the kitchen, so right this way,” Grant said, gesturing behind himself.

Blake picked up Peyton and followed Grant through a good-size living room tastefully decorated with brown leather couches, a colorful area rug, a large-screen TV and two dog beds sitting side by side. Voices floated to him from the kitchen.

When he stepped into the room, several heads turned. He recognized Molly, and a few other people who’d been into the store, though he didn’t know their names.

Molly stepped forward from the family room adjoining the kitchen, drawing his attention. “Blake! It’s good to see you.”

“Thanks for having me.” He saw the snack spread on the table and mentally slapped his head. “Oh, I guess I should have brought something.”

She waved a hand. “No worries.” Her gaze went to Peyton. “You have this little angel to take care of.” Molly bent over. “She’s adorable.”

“Thanks.” Thankfully, Peyton slept on, even with the conversation in the room. Figured that now she would sleep. “Still. I should have realized it was a potluck.” Where was his brain lately? Lost in the haze of sleep deprivation and overwork, probably.

“Do you want to bring her with you while I introduce you around?” Molly asked.

“You want me to take her?” a familiar female voice asked from behind him.

He turned, and there stood Lily Rogers, a lovely smile on her face. “Hey!” he said, surprised to see her here. She wore a blue-and-white-striped top and had her hair up on top of her head, showing off her slender neck. Wow. She was even prettier than he remembered.

“Hey back,” she said, her eyes catching on his for just a moment before shifting to focus on Peyton. “How’s my girl Peyton these days?”

“Quieter,” he replied drily. “At least for now.”

“Oh, good.”

“I understand you and Lily met yesterday,” Molly said.

“Yes, she came in to apply for a job,” he said.

“How’s the new guy working out?” Lily asked.

“He’s fine,” Blake said. “Fortunately he had barista experience, so I haven’t had to do too much training.”

“I’ll have to come in and hit him with some random, weird order,” Lily said. “Put him through his paces.”

“Go for it,” Blake replied, liking the levity she brought to the conversation, even though she was discussing a job she hadn’t gotten.

Lily held her hand out. “Why don’t I take her into the living room, where it’s quiet, while you relax for a bit.”

“You sure you don’t mind?” He didn’t come here to foist Peyton off on someone else; he knew where his responsibilities lay.

“Of course not,” Lily replied, shooing him away. “Go meet everyone.”

“You’ll let me know if you need me?”

“I can handle her if she fusses,” Lily said with a crooked smile.

The teasing glint in Lily’s eyes made his heart bounce. “Yes, I guess you can.” Smiling back, he handed her the carrier. “Here you go.”

She hoisted it into the crook of her arm and headed into the living room. He couldn’t help but notice the curls at her nape as she walked away.

Grant came up and handed him a glass of what looked like lemonade. “You know Lily?”

“She came in yesterday to apply for the barista job.” Blake took a sip of his drink. Tart, but good. “I had to tell her it was already filled.”

“She seems to like Peyton,” Molly observed.

“She helped out yesterday when it got busy and Peyton was having a fit.” He smiled. “She’s a genuine baby whisperer.”

“She’s also a very good clothing designer.” Grant looked at Molly. “Didn’t you tell me she wants to go to LA and audition for some fashion reality show?”

“Yes, Project Fashion ,” Molly said. “She’s very talented. She designs and makes most of her own clothes.”