Page 4 of A Heart to Find (Sweetheart Island #2)

Keira locked the door of her bathroom, even though she was the only one with access to her room. Nothing was going the way she had imagined, so she wouldn’t put it past Jared to have some sort of unearthly ability to charm his way past the deadbolt on her hotel door.

They had an hour to prepare themselves for the oh-so-special date they had won. Under normal circumstances, an hour would be overkill. But an hour wasn’t nearly long enough to prepare her heart for another encounter with Jared. Contrary to the beliefs of the delusional women running this matchmaking chaos, a swipe of lipstick and a fresh splash of perfume would not change the fact that this whole thing had been the biggest mistake of her life.

No, the biggest mistake had been believing that Jared could have been the one for her the first time.

Without thinking, she reached for the locket that nestled between her breasts, under her shirt. She rubbed the smooth heart, channeling her loving grandparents. Her grandfather had given this locket to the love of his life when they had only known each other for two days. That two days had stretched on to become the greatest love story in history and had only ended in death.

Scratch that thought.

No way was death strong enough to sever the bonds her grandparents had forged.

Her beloved grandmother had been a big believer in following the signs and in fate leading you where you needed to be. How many times had she sat across the table from Keira with a cup of hot cocoa between them and told her that even though things were difficult at that moment, fate was preparing her for the big payoff?

More times than Keira could count.

And she had always been right.

Keira owed it to the memory of her grandmother to allow fate to play out the way it was meant to play out. If going along with this farce of pretending Jared could possibly be her soul mate was the thing that would lead her to her real, true, honest-to-goodness soul mate, then so be it.

The tension in her neck released, and the headache that had been growing since she first read Jared’s name on the card vanished.

Grandmotherly intervention? A reward for paying attention to the signs?

Whatever it was, Keira breathed a sigh of relief.

How hard would it be to smile? To enjoy whatever this resort had to offer? To catch up with Jared? Heck, she had decided a long time ago not to hate anyone. She had forgiven him for not being able to love her the way she had wanted to be loved way back then.

Two weeks. Two weeks of committing to the process. And then she could honestly say she had given it her best shot. Hannah had promised to give her another opportunity if this one didn’t pan out. Hopefully, she could get a spot in one of the summer sessions if Hannah took pity on her so she wouldn’t have to miss more work.

The only thing Keira had to prove was that Jared was not her match. Her match was out there. She would have a love like the eternal, all-consuming love her grandparents had shared. She’d make sure of it.

Her grandmother would help guide her there. She believed that more than she believed in anything else.

By the time Jared knocked on her hotel door, she was ready. Not just dressed and freshly made up, but she was ready to dive in and give it her all.

She could do anything for two weeks.

Jared didn’t know what he had expected when he picked Keira up for their date, but it certainly wasn’t the glowing, smiling, cheerful face on the other side of the door.

She practically bounced down the stairs to the sleigh awaiting them outside.

He couldn’t say what the horses looked like or who was driving the sleigh, but he could recount every detail of Keira’s sparkling eyes as she cupped her hands over her mouth in pure glee upon seeing the sleigh. He knew it was adorned with white Christmas lights because he admired the way the light danced on the bendy curls in her hair. The urge to put his arm around her to protect her from the bitter breeze was strong, but he dug his hands into his pockets to keep from moving too fast and terrifying her while they waited for the driver to open the sleigh door for them.

She climbed aboard the sleigh with the excitement of a child. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of giddiness himself, especially when the driver placed a wool blanket over their laps. The intimacy of knowing their thighs were under a shared cover and only inches apart made his stomach jolt in a way it hadn’t jolted since he was a teenager.

“We lucked out with the weather. Cold enough for a winter night, but not so cold that we’ll become ice sculptures.”

She turned her face into the breeze as the horses led them down the plowed path.

“Couldn’t be better,”

he agreed.

They chatted about the rooms they had each been assigned, the majesty of the lobby in the hotel, and she shared a mishap that had occurred on her drive to Maine from New Hampshire involving an issue with her debit card at a gas pump and a friendly trucker who had helped her out.

An unexpected and unwelcome twinge of jealousy at some other guy helping her and earning her positive words gnawed at him.

Best to keep that feeling buried far beneath the surface. Jealousy was never an attractive feature. She had taught him that the first month they had dated.

Through their friendly, benign conversation, he understood the subtext.

No talk of the past. No talk of anything too serious.

True, those were the rules of general social engagement. But Keira had always been different. Keira had never been the kind of person to waste time on small talk. Not when she could delve into someone’s past and learn all about their deepest dreams and most vivid worries with the intensity of her kindness. Heck, she had always been the person who took forever getting through the checkout line in a grocery store because she became so engaged in learning about the person behind her in line and then the cashier. He had always wondered how she did it—made people feel so free to open up to her as if they had known her forever.

Maybe she had changed.

No. The only thing that had changed was how she felt about him. He would bet his entire livelihood on it.

But if she needed him to play the strangers-getting-to-know-one-another game, he’d play.

The sleigh dropped them off next to a path lit by small flickering lanterns leading them to a gazebo with a single round table set up in the middle. As promised, figure skaters glided over the frozen pond, warming up for the show. Candles on the table beckoned them forward. Jared held a chair out for Keira to sit, unable to contain the smile she so easily elicited from him.

How was it possible that they were here together?

“This feels like a fairyland. So beautiful.”

Looking at her, he could only smile and nod his head in full agreement.

She blamed the power of the full moon pulling her in. She blamed the magic of the gently illuminated gazebo. She most definitely blamed the gracefulness of the figure skaters and the romance they conjured on the ice.

Any of those things—or perhaps the combination of the three— were to blame for her nodding her head in agreement when Jared proposed another date tomorrow.

Sure, she had no real choice if she wanted to get her next shot at finding her real match. But that was no excuse for the juvenile way her stomach fluttered. Not a valid reason for the full-body flush that rushed over her skin when his fingers brushed hers as they both reached for the same water glass. And she absolutely one million percent could not fathom why that stupid giggle had erupted from her throat when their hostess recommended that Keira be the one to plan tomorrow’s date.

At least Jared had looked alarmed at the unexpected reaction. Maybe he worried she’d plot something devious.

Maybe she should…

Jet lag must be responsible for the giddiness. Yeah. Definitely jet lag. Okay, so she hadn’t flown. Hadn’t changed time zones. Hadn’t even taken more than a few hours to get to the resort from her hometown, but she needed something else to blame, and jet lag seemed like a valid scapegoat.

No one needed to know the lies she told herself.

“What crazy thoughts are you having behind that mysterious smile?”

Jared leaned forward, hovering over his empty dessert plate.

“Go easy on me on this date plan, will ya?”

Her grin grew wider, and though she tried to stop the spreading infection, the ideas rolling through her head entertained her far too much.

“I’m thinking something to do with seafood. I remember how much you adore anything in a shell.”

He squirmed in his seat.

“Wow, Jared. That shade of green on your face is quite becoming. Feeling sick, are you?”

His well-sculpted cheeks dipped in slightly, as if he were biting back a retort.

“If you want seafood, then seafood it shall be.”

“My, my, how things have changed. I seem to remember a time where you almost broke up with me for insisting we have lobster for my birthday.”

He winced.

“That was the immature teenage me that you knew. May I introduce you to the more refined, less selfish me?”

“Does the more refined, less selfish Jared like seafood now? Because that level of change would truly shock me.”

“The more refined, less selfish me acknowledges that you can indulge in seafood while I choose something else off the menu. Like fried chicken tenders.”

His eyes crinkled around the edges and his teeth glittered.

“Oh, but the smell! The sight! What will poor Jared do if he has to watch me eat something so repulsive?”

What was wrong with her? Why was she teasing him so mercilessly? Why was she enjoying the banter so much?

“You’re really enjoying making me squirm, aren’t you?”

She nodded gleefully, bouncing in her seat. She’d blame the chocolate lava cake induced sugar rush for that one.

Enjoying it too much.

She stiffened. She could not, would not go down the Jared path again. That path led to pain, heartbreak, and disaster.

Smoothing her shirt over her overstuffed belly, she forced a yawn and told him she needed to get back to bed.

He accepted her lie—she was more amped up than she had ever been and probably wouldn’t sleep for the next two weeks—and stood when she stood. His hand on her lower back was meant to guide her toward the lit pathway, but the gentle, familiar touch sent shivers up her spine and an electric bolt to her heart. The pathetic organ intensified in its beat-beat-beat, drumming in her ears. A sign of warning or a rallying cry?

Definitely a warning.

The sleigh ride back to the lodge was silent, but not uncomfortable. She kept her face turned toward the chilled breeze in an attempt to keep the heat he generated in her from showing on her face. The fresh winter air cleared her sinuses and reminded her to keep her heart cold.

“I can walk you to your floor,”

he offered.

She shook her head and muttered something she hoped sounded like, “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

but she couldn’t honestly say if those were the words he heard.

Just about to step on the elevator, she stopped when he called out to her.

“Thank you, Keira, for reminding me of what I lost all those years ago.”

Unable to form a coherent response, she rushed into the elevator, frantically pushed the “close door”

button until it finally took mercy on her, and held in her tears until she was in the relative safety of her hotel room.

Keira stretched into the sliver of sunshine that drifted across her luxurious bed. She had thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but she underestimated the power of the Egyptian cotton sheets and the extra cozy memory foam mattress with the pillows that made her never want to leave this nest.

Checking the time on her phone, her blurry eyes struggled to focus on the text notification on her home screen. The text was from an unknown number, but with a New Hampshire area code.

Hands shaking and palms sweating, she clicked on the notification.

“Good morning, beautiful. Looking forward to today’s date, whatever it may be.”

A message from Jared? Impossible. She hadn’t given him her number.

She tossed the phone across the bed and covered her eyes with her sweaty hands.

He had used a heart eyes emoticon.

It was too early to deal with his attempts at cuteness.

An annoying thought nagged at her brain throughout her entire shower and while she dried her hair. Why would the resort give out personal phone numbers without permission? She would have remembered giving authorization. She’d have this number long after the two weeks were up, and how awkward would it be to have to dodge messages and calls if things didn’t work out with this matchmaking thing?

When things didn’t work out. There was no “if”

when it came to Jared.

Making a mental note to question staff about this policy, she plopped into the chair beside the enormous fireplace and shifted through the informational papers. She hadn’t planned an activity for today and needed to get going before he texted her again. She didn’t want to seem unprepared. Uninterested, yes, but unprepared? Never.

Rather than finding activities she might otherwise enjoy, she found herself searching for ones that would annoy Jared the most.

Childish? Yes, perhaps. But his presence here had shot a tranquilizer dart into the beating heart of her hopes and dreams, so if she could gain any pleasure from making him even slightly miserable without being outright cruel, she was all in.

Jared carefully placed the tray of paints in front of the wildly grinning Keira, then settled his aproned body onto the wobbly stool, unable to stop himself from bursting into a full smile at the gleeful smirk she sent his way.

His version of art was capturing what he could see through the lens of a camera, not trying to create something out of nothing on a blank canvas. Her twinkling eyes proved that she remembered his dislike for creating in this medium.

He’d do anything she wanted if it meant breathing the same air as Keira, though. She’d see the man he became, rather than the man he once was.

“Interesting choice of scenes to paint for someone who never wanted to leave her hometown.”

Jared studied her from the corner of his eye, surprised to see her flinch before recovering.

“I didn’t have the craving for adventure that you did, but that doesn’t mean I never dreamed of escaping to a faraway castle.”

Before he could ask her all the questions that flooded his head at her unexpected comment, the instructor called them to attention and directed them to paint their canvas blue.

How this blob of paint was going to turn into a rolling Scottish countryside with a medieval castle was beyond him, but he’d subject himself to the painting class one hundred times if it meant listening to her giggle beside him as her brush glided over the canvas in a dance of merriment.

As their paintings began to take shape, he had to admit that he hadn’t been joking about his own lack of talent.

He leaned toward her and whispered, “I think my castle more closely resembles a jagged rock. And this sheep looks like a cloud fell onto the field here.”

Her giggle had the power to make him float.

“Yours, on the other hand, looks exactly like a castle my rental car broke down near.”

She paused mid-stroke and shifted her upper body toward him slightly.

“You’ve been near a real castle?”

“Of course. Many of them. Photographing castle ruins is practically my bread and butter. People who happen upon my travel blog love them.”

Was she playing him, or had she never actually searched for him online?

“Well, now you’re just bragging.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, but the corners of her lips lifted at the same time.

“The closest thing to a castle I’ve been near is the armory in Healing Springs.”

“That’s because you’re not into traveling. I think you’d love Scotland, though, if you ever decided to venture off this continent.”

She sighed and resumed adding details to the grass around her castle.

“Convince me.”

That was a challenge he was up for.

He spent the next twenty minutes feeding her non-adventurous soul tales of the beautiful countryside, the bleating sheep, and the mystical feeling that came over him whenever he walked around the ruins. Her intent listening made his belly feel like it was filled with a warm ball of goo. She seemed to enjoy hearing about the kindness of the people—how they’d stop to let a pedestrian cross the road even if there wasn’t a crosswalk in sight. Their hospitality, their humor, and of course, their whisky.

“It all sounds…surreal.”

“Feels that way, too.”

He reached for the vial of gray paint at exactly the same moment as she did. Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of sensation up his arm. She jerked away and rubbed her fingers across her forehead, streaking herself with grass-green paint. He reached over to clear away the smudge, but she jumped back as if under attack. Her stool clanked to the floor, attracting the attention of everyone in the room.

“Oh, um, oops.”

She bent to rescue the fallen stool at the same time he bent to retrieve it. Their heads bonked together hard enough that someone in the room gasped from the cracking sound.

Keira burst into laughter, pressing painted fingers to her head, making the initial smudge seem small in comparison. Jared came to the rescue with a damp rag he grabbed from a neighboring couple, but when he tried to wipe the paint away, he made it worse. Realizing he should have checked to be sure the rag was clean, he cringed and tried to apologize.

But her laughter only grew stronger.

Wanting nothing more than to get her to the point of snorting in laughter, he wiped the soiled rag across his own face, grimacing exaggeratedly, hoping she’d laugh even harder.

“We might as well match, I suppose.”

She didn’t let him stop there. She reached behind him and grabbed a vial of paint. With a twinkle in her mascara-smeared eyes, she squeezed dots of paint over his cheeks and chin. He puckered up and posed as if modeling for the cover of a men’s magazine.

Snort.

Mission accomplished!

Keira’s snort made her crumple into more laughter. He couldn’t contain his own glee, especially as she clutched her cheeks and exclaimed that they hurt from laughing so much.

He wanted this for her. This pure, unbridled joy.

“I think I need to call it a night.”

She inhaled deeply, bursting into laughter as she looked at his painted face again.

“We are such a mess.”

“True. But we’re a fun mess, aren’t we?”

Her nod appeared genuine.

Her eyes softened.

“Wait a second. Call it a night? It’s barely afternoon.”

He didn’t want to end the day already.

“Grab some dinner?”

Her laughter returned as she gestured over her face and then pointed to his.

“Looking like this?”

“We’d be the talk of the island.”

She leaned closer and cupped her hand around her mouth as if about to confide a deep, dark secret.

“Pretty sure we already are.”

The neighboring couples who hadn’t taken their eyes off the crazy exchange quickly shifted their attention back to their canvases, pretending nothing was amiss.

“At least let me walk you back to the hotel.”

“Thanks, but I think I’d like to have some alone time in the fresh air. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind since we arrived, don’t you think?”

Respect her wishes. Respect her wishes. Respect her wishes.

He nodded, not trusting his words to come out the way they should.

“See you tomorrow?”

Was that a hopeful look she gave him? Did she actually want the next date?

“I noticed on our itinerary we were given reservations at the culinary arts center.”

“Oh boy. They’re going to trust us with sharp objects and fire?”

Her eyebrows jolted upward.

“They’ll probably have us sign more waivers.”

She nodded and grinned, slipping into her coat before reaching for her canvas.

“Leave it here to dry. I’ll keep it safe until I get it to you.”

She thanked him and stared into his eyes for the slightest bit longer than she needed to.

He watched her say her goodbyes to the instructor and walk out the front door onto the island’s quaint Main Street.

He didn’t know what he’d do with himself the rest of the day, but he could guarantee it would include counting the breaths until he could see her again.