Page 60 of Charm

He glances around the room. “I had a hand in the design decisions here. My grandmother handled that in the beach house. I inherited it from her after her death.”

My heart feels like it clenches inside my chest because I’ve suffered loss, too. Celia’s death was most difficult for me, but when my grandfather on my dad’s side passed away, I was only fourteen. I cried myself to sleep for days. I still shed a tear when I remember my summers in Colorado.

He’d take me fishing and horseback riding. We’d have as many outdoor adventures as he could cram into the two weeks I got to spend with him and my grandmother.

After my folks retired, they headed west and bought a home there so my grandma could live with them.

There was a lot of debate after Olive was born about whether they should all relocate to New York, but they love the life they’ve built there. I take Olive there a few times a year to visit, and they video chat with her at least once a week.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Holden.”

His gaze catches mine briefly before it drops to the floor. “Thanks, Greer.”

He moves quickly through the space, holding tightly to the three shopping bags we picked up on our journey here. We went to a deli that Holden frequents. He’s there often enough that they know him by his first name. After that, he bought a bottle of champagne that cost more than I’d ever spent on alcohol.

“I’m going to shower quickly if that’s okay with you,” he calls over his shoulder. “I need a refresh since I’ve been wearing this suit for over a day.”

No one passing him on the street would suspect that. He smells as divinely masculine as he always does.

“Sure, of course,” I call back. “Do you want me to get started on the charcuterie board?”

“I want you to help yourself to something cool to drink from the fridge.” He gestures to the open doorway he’s about to enter. “It’s this way.”

I start in that direction, taking in everything I pass with each step. Beautiful paintings hang on the walls. A framed drawing of a garden takes the center spot. It’s obvious a child is responsible for it. I stop to read the name written in red crayon in the bottom right corner.

“Kirby,” I whisper.

“Kirby is my friend Rook’s daughter. She made that for me.”

I turn to find Holden right behind me. “How old is she?”

“Almost six,” he says. “She’s an amazing kid. We’re tap dancing partners.”

That catches me so off guard that I let out a soft laugh. “What?”

He slides one of his black wingtip shoes slightly forward on the floor. “Sometimes Kirbs needs a hand to hold when she tries new things. She asked me if I’d take her to tap dancing lessons when her dad enrolled her. Somehow, from that, I ended up next to her in the dance recital.”

There’s a flutter in my chest when I imagine him tap dancing with a little girl not much younger than my Olive. Obviously there’s a lot more to Holden Sheppard than I’ve realized.

“Before you ask, I’m damn good.” His hands drop to his hips. “Play your cards right and I may give you a private show sometime.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “A private show? That’s not code for a naked show, is it?”

“Now it is.”

I bow my chin to hide an uncontrollable smile.

“I know you’re smiling, Greer,” he whispers. “I also know you wish you weren’t, but there’s something about me.”

My head pops up until our eyes meet. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’d much rather flatter you.” His tone lowers dangerously. “You’re beautiful, and it’s not in that ordinary kind of way either.You’re fucking gorgeous. You’re breathtaking. There needs to be a new word to describe how captivating you are.”

“Wow,” I mutter.

“That’s not the word I’m looking for.” His hand darts up. It’s headed toward my face, but he stops it short, dropping it before he touches me. “I’m going to take a shower before I say something that will earn me an umbrella poke.”

“You told me I wouldn’t need an umbrella today.” I remind him. “Besides, I don’t have one.”