Page 5 of Hold Me Tight

I push into the crisp autumn air and nearly run into Evelyn Kingston, one of the owners of the Railers hockey team. She’s dressed in a stylish faux-fur coat, her ebony-colored hair twisted into something elegant that only looks effortless. Her gaze dips to the bag and coffee in my hands, then back up to my face with a shrewd smile.

“Fan of the coffee and pastries, are we?” she asks, like she doesn’t already know the answer.

“Among other things.”

“Well, you aren’t the only one. Callie’s about to receive a lot more attention.”

Everything inside me stills. “Oh? Why’s that?”

Her smile turns sly. “Beau Masterson’s going to reach out to Callie about featuring her desserts in his restaurants. Isn’t that fantastic news?”

It is.

One hundred percent.

But it also isn’t.

Now I’m imagining Callie in the spotlight, facing even more pressure. While she deserves a thriving business, part of me knows that kind of exposure comes with complications. Especially when you’re a single parent without a support system to rely on.

And, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t like the idea of Beau Masterson sniffing around Callie. The guy is a rich playboy, and Chicago is his hunting ground.

When I remain silent, Evelyn steps closer before pausing, her gaze pinned to mine. “If you’re planning on making a move, River, I wouldn’t wait too long.”

The comment catches me off guard. Before I can come up with a response, she’s gone, disappearing inside the bakery.

I stand there for a few seconds, watching Callie through the window.

Evelyn’s right. I can’t afford to wait any longer. I’ve already wasted too much time.

If I’m not careful, she’ll slip right through my fingers.

And I’m not about to let that happen.

3

Callie

My nerves continue to riot beneath my skin. Even after the door swings shut behind River. His presence lingers, impossible to ignore. I don’t understand why he affects me so much.

I press a palm to my chest and try to talk myself down from the ledge.

It’s not that big of a deal. The man is a customer like everyone else who pops in for a coffee and pastry.

He just so happens to be a dangerously attractive, ridiculously tall customer with gorgeous blue eyes and a habit of making me feel things I’ve spent years trying to avoid.

It’s no big deal.

None at all.

When the last of the mid-morning rush trickles out, I drop onto a stool behind the counter as Sloane finishes wiping a table before leaning over and shooting me a look that says she’s dying to explode.

“For weeks now that man has been showing up every day.” Her tone might be innocent, but her smirk is anything but. “Think he’ll finally work up the nerve to ask you out?”

With a wince, I rub the back of my neck, as if it’s possible to massage away the tension his presence stirs in me. “I really hope not.”

“Girl… That man looks at you like you’re a tasty cupcake.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not interested. In anyone. But especially not him.”