Page 15 of Valentine Nook (The Valentine Nook Chronicles #1)

I’m trying not to stare, but standing this close, I can see how clear the blue of his eye is. Not a fleck or swirl of green present, just pure blue. It’s hypnotizing.

“If you two don’t mind, I need to find someone to deal with all these ribbons,” Eddie says, clearing his throat. “Your Grace, you want anything else added?”

Lando shakes his head, breaking our connection. “No thanks, Eddie, this’ll all be superb. I’ll pop back later, and we can discuss the cricket.”

“No problem. See you later. Bye, ’Oliday.”

I lift my hand to wave goodbye, only to find I’m still holding Thunder’s reins, and I pass them back to Lando.

Thumbing over my shoulder, I say, “I should go?—”

“Where are you heading?”

“To find a coffee. ”

“Then you need to go to The Beanery. We’ll come with you.”

I glance down at the Labrador and up at Thunder, then back at Lando. Surely, he doesn’t mean all of them? But he does, and the four of us start walking down the street in silence, except for the clip-clop of Thunder’s hooves.

I’m silent because I’m figuring this must be a super weird sight for anyone passing us, though no one seems to notice.

They’re too busy darting between stores or admiring the hanging baskets overloaded with blooms. But I don’t know why Lando’s silent, and it’s got me curious, especially as I’m sure he keeps opening his mouth to speak only to close it again.

I figure I’ll just wait. I’m waiting until we almost reach the coffee shop.

“Actually,” he begins. “I’m glad I ran into you, I wanted to apologize for you know . . . my behavior. I should have done so yesterday. I was exceptionally rude to you the other day, and I’m sorry. And you’re welcome to have lessons with Pierre whenever you want. I’m sure he’ll welcome the change.”

Air hisses through his teeth as he puffs out his cheeks like he’s been holding his breath through his entire apology.

I’m so taken aback by his sincerity that I stop walking.

I don’t think anyone’s ever apologized to me so earnestly.

And yes, he was kind of rude, but I work in an industry where you need a thick skin to survive, and it was nothing compared to some of the vitriol I’ve been on the receiving end of, so I’d almost forgotten about it.

But I don’t tell him that. Instead, I accept it on behalf of all the apologies I should have gotten over the years and didn’t.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles and nods toward The Beanery. “What would you like?”

There’s no way I’m standing out here while he goes inside and leaves me with Thunder. Plus, I want to choose the donut. And I also want to pay .

“I’ll go, but you tell me what you’re drinking.”

He doesn’t do a very good job of hiding his surprise at my offer, he looks like no one’s ever bought him a coffee before. “I’ll take one black, please.”

“You got it.”

It takes me no time to order and even less time to choose my donut because there’s only one option.

A round ball filled with raspberry “jam” and covered in sugar.

It’s not what I wanted, but a ritual is a ritual, and I’m superstitious enough that if I don’t celebrate with coffee and a donut, things will go wrong.

I expect Lando to leave once I’ve handed his coffee over, but he doesn’t. And the four of us continue making our way along Valentine High Street, where the final yards of bunting are being fastened.

I haven’t ventured this far down before. I don’t even know where we’re going, but it’s not like I have anything else to do. I’m still getting used to all this free time I have, and that I can spend it exactly how I choose to.

Eventually, we walk past The Cupid’s Arrow, the other pub in the village. I have yet to go in. I’m too scared Eddie will catch me, and considering he was one of the first people I met here, I have a sense of loyalty.

“Has Eddie got you playing cricket, or are you part of the opposing team?” I ask because I’m not walking in silence any longer. If he wants to keep me company, then we’re talking.

“Neither. Sadly,” Lando replies. “I should be playing for Eddie, but I’m chairing the summer fair committee again. So I can’t.”

The way he says again makes it sound like the task should have fallen to someone else.

“Do you not normally head it up?”

“No, our family takes it in turns every year.”

“Who dropped out?” I ask with a chuckle, expecting him to say Clemmie because I can see Clemmie being a person with expert powers of persuasion to get her out of things she doesn’t want to do.

He rubs along the back of his neck. “Um . . . actually, that would be Caroline.”

“Oh, I don’t recall Clemmie mentioning her. Is she another sister?”

“No, she would be my fiancée.”

I don’t know if I gasp or if Lando isn’t used to not having a fiancée yet, because he immediately follows it up with, “Ex-fiancée.”

I remember Clemmie telling me her brother had broken up with someone, but she’d made it seem like a casual girlfriend, not someone major. Someone he was going to marry. Someone he planned to spend his life with.

“I’m so sorry,” I say eventually, which is more of a reflex than anything because I have a weird reaction to hearing him say ex-fiancée.

It’s followed by curling in my belly, wondering if that means he’s single.

Lando shrugs.

It might be a small movement, a casual brush-off, but it thickens my throat anyway.

As if sensing Lando’s mood, Thunder maneuvers himself between us and nudges my arm hard enough that my coffee spills.

“Hey, what was that for?” I grumble, shaking my hand dry.

He does it again, only gentler this time, and I realize he’s trying to get the paper bag containing my donut.

“Do you not feed your horse or something?”

Lando grins, the last thirty seconds forgotten about, and tugs on Thunder’s bridle. “I do. But obviously not enough.”

“This is my celebration donut,” I say, opening the bag and taking a deep inhale. It smells divine. “You can’t have it all, but I’ll share it.”

Jelly oozes out as I break it in half and pass it to Thunder before realizing I probably should have asked Lando if it was okay to give a horse a donut.

“Celebration? What are you celebrating?”

I lick the rest of the jelly off my fingers, wondering if I should tell him.

“Oh . . . um, I got an offer this morning for a contract.”

“Well, that does sound like something to celebrate. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It’s a big deal actually. For me, anyway.” I pause and take stock. Think about what my therapist would say to me. “No, it’s a big deal for anyone. Not just me. It’s huge.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Forty million over five years,” I blurt from nowhere.

What am I doing? Why am I telling him this? It’s so obnoxious. It’s braggy.

His full mouth rolls into a line. “I don’t know anything about movies or your business, but if you’re happy, then it sounds like a good deal. And I’m certain you’re worth every single penny. Or cent , in your case. Very Hollywood, either way.”

I nod. It’s not a platitude. He’s not trying to be nice. He believes what he’s telling me. This almost stranger, who only shouted at me before today, thinks I’m worth it.

And his validation does something to me. For me.

“Thank you.”

We stop at the wide stone arch, which marks the end of Valentine High Street. Unlike the fountain with its elaborate carvings, the arch is plain except for words running along the top.

Amor Principum.

“What does that mean?” I ask, pointing at the inscription .

“Love is the beginning,” he replies quietly, his eyes locking onto mine so intensely I feel like I’m swaying. “Anyway, I need to be going. Thanks for the coffee, Hollywood. And the donut.”

Hollywood. A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. Two can play at this game.

“Anytime, Gracie.”

The laugh he belts out almost has him toppling out of the stirrups as he mounts Thunder. And dear god, this guy on a horse . . . it shorts my brain.

“See you at the fair.”

I stay there, under the arch, watching him ride off as I finish the remainder of my donut. Which is way more delicious than it looks.

Not the only thing deceiving today.

Lando, not quite as moody as I originally thought.

Quite the opposite.