Page 30 of Valentine Nook (The Valentine Nook Chronicles #1)

“This is Max’s future. Were you going to talk to me about it?”

I turn to Hendricks. “Yes, of course. Once it had all been settled.”

“Did you sign these papers?”

“I did,” I reply and look at James, “but it appears Arthur never received them.”

To his credit, James doesn’t even bother to deny it. He just reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a brown envelope.

“I didn’t want you to do something you regretted.”

“Why would I regret leaving all this to Max? Everything we’ve built, everything Dad built. Max is the next generation. Besides, it’s a backup measure in case I never meet anyone.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous, Lando.”

My head snaps around. “Mother, I don’t know if I’m going to get married and have children, but I’m not going to fucking do it with you breathing down my neck only to land with someone else like Caroline. ”

Her lips purse again. “What about Holiday?”

“What about Holiday?”

“You’ve been spending time together?—”

“I gave her a ride home from London. That’s all.”

I dare not look at any of my brothers. I haven’t said one word to them about Holiday since Miles announced my crush at family supper. But it’s widely agreed among our family that, of everyone, I’m the worst at lying.

They’ll take one look at my face and know the ride home from London is not, in fact, all.

“Serious question here. Are you going to be my second brother to fall in love with an American?”

When Alex and I splutter at the same time, it’s almost like we rehearsed it. Leave it to Miles to break the tension by adding more tension.

“I’m not in love,” Alex snaps.

This time, all eyes land on him. Miles’s, Hendricks’s, and mine anyway. My mother rolls hers, though I’m not sure if that’s at Miles or Alex or me. Likely all of us.

“What? I’m not. I hooked up with a girl last Christmas, and that’s all it was. Nothing more. A hookup. A fling .”

On second thought, maybe Alex is worse at lying than me.

“C’mon, Al. I’m sure Haven will call you back at some point. Maybe she’s busy. Or did you check that you definitely had the correct number for her store?” Miles asks, wrapping his arms around Alex’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug.

“Get off me,” he snaps in return.

Thankfully, it’s enough of a distraction for the conversation to move away from Holiday and back to the reason I’m here in the first place.

“Orlando,” my mother snaps. “What do you intend to do with that?”

She’s pointing at the envelope on James’s desk .

Crossing my arms over my chest, I suck in a cheek. Alex and Miles stop dicking about, and the room falls silent.

“If you promise not to mention my dating life until the end of the year, then it can go back in the drawer.”

I don’t know why I give the end of the year as a deadline, except by the end of the year, Holiday will no longer be in Valentine Nook.

My mother pushes out of her chair and smooths down her shirt and trousers. “I can live with that.”

No one moves until Miles slaps his thigh. “Right. On that note, I’m going over to Foxleigh. Any of you losers want a ride up to the house?”

I take Miles up on his offer, and he drops me off at the front door.

On the way, we pass the side of the house where the Burlington staff live when they’re on duty. It’s also where everyone parks their cars, and it’s the nearest spot to the kitchen entrance.

“Isn’t that the car you gave to Holiday?” Miles points toward the cleanest car in the lot.

The cleanest of all the Burlington Estate cars, anyway.

The rush of adrenaline is instant, even when I try to bat it away, given Miles’s presence.

“I don’t know.”

“It is. I’m certain it is. I recognize the number plate as it’s parked outside my cottage every day.”

“So?”

“So are you sure you want me to drop you at the front door?” He snorts. “You can just get out here.”

I don’t bother to deign a response, but when he pulls up at the hall and I hop out, he calls me back .

“Lan, I meant what I said the other day. It’s good to see you more like you again.

Fuck Caroline and fuck Jeremy. You deserve to be happy, and if Holiday Simpson makes you happy, then I say you should go for it.

If you don’t believe me, you should take a look at that photo, if you haven’t seen it already. ”

For a moment, I’m too choked up to speak. Miles, for all his annoying habits—of which there are too many to mention—is also incredibly intuitive, kind, and loyal to a fault. Jeremy was his friend too, and I know that neither he nor any of my siblings have spoken to Jeremy since.

“Thanks, Milo.”

I don’t even bother turning left to my study. I march straight across the hallway and down a short passage to a set of stone stairs, following it until I arrive at my destination.

The scent of sugar and cinnamon fills the air, and I hear Pierre’s thick French accent through the door.

Peering around quietly so I can watch without disturbing them, Holiday’s leaning over an impressive ball of pastry. She’s all red cheeks, puffing away a strand of hair while dangerously wielding a rolling pin like it’s a baseball bat.

I rarely come down here, so I wasn’t expecting there to be so many people, but I suspect that Holiday’s presence has the exact effect on the Burlington house staff as Miles does in the estate yard.

I don’t manage to stay secret for as long as I’d hoped.

“Oh, Your Grace. Can I help you with something?”

I turn to find Cynthia, Pierre’s sous chef, staring at me as Holiday’s eyes snap up.

Busted.

“Oh no, thank you. I just came to find your newest recruit.” I smile over at Pierre, who for once isn’t wearing his signature frown. “Can I borrow her for a moment?”

He puffs out a response and throws his hands in the air, which could mean both yes and no .

I’ll take it as yes and gesture for Holiday to follow me away from the prying eyes of twenty house staff. Her face is impossibly fresh, totally devoid of makeup. But she’s smiling, a reaction that is rare in Pierre’s kitchen.

My craving to see her has been replaced by a desperation to kiss her, which I fight by swiping my thumb over a smudge of flour on her cheek.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How’s your morning been?”

“Good, how’s yours?”

“Better now I’ve laid eyes on you. What’ve you been making?”

“ Pies . Pierre said my pastry ‘needs work.’” She air quotes with a roll of her eyes.

I bark out a laugh. “Well, I won’t keep you.” For what surprisingly isn’t the first time, I decide to take Miles’s advice and go for it. “But I came to ask if you would like to meet me at The One True Love later?”

Holiday grins wide, rises on her tiptoes, and brushes her lips to mine. “I would love to meet you later.”