Page 32 of Valentine Nook (The Valentine Nook Chronicles #1)

Lando

“ A ’right, everybody out,” Eddie yells. “C’mon. Let’s go. OUT. Take yer drinks with you.”

There’s a scramble of chairs behind me, along with loud grumbles of protest, a yapping Jack Russell, and the sound of glasses being placed on tables. I hadn’t realized it was quite so busy when I stormed in, but I guess I wasn’t paying attention.

“OUT.”

Feet shuffle toward the doors as Eddie’s customers slowly make their exit, only to stand outside and peer through the windows.

I understand their reluctance and curiosity at what’s going on because they need as many facts as possible to accurately spread what will undoubtedly be the most exciting piece of village gossip since the wedding was canceled.

But hey, that’s me. Doing what I can to keep Valentine Nook entertained.

I’m shaking out the throbbing in my hand when I spot a bowl of ice on the bar and plunge my fist into that instead. The stinging is superseded by cold, and the pain momentarily vanishes. It’s a better solution than the bottle of whiskey I drank the last time I punched Jeremy .

My eyes drift to the floor where he’s easing himself to sit using an upturned stool.

I regard him for a second, half groaning, half laughing as he leans back against the bar.

Blood pours from his nose and his split lip, and his left eye is already puffy.

I’m debating if I should help him up but then decide he can stay there.

Dick.

It’s the shocked gasp that has me turning, however. Holiday stands to the side, hand covering her mouth, her wide blue eyes glued on Jeremy and brimming with disgust. I just can’t tell if the disgust is aimed at me.

For the first time since I walked in, I get a look at her. A really good look.

Her rosy cheeks. Shimmery lips. Blond hair tumbling over her shoulder.

Her skin looks so clean and smooth that if it weren’t for the wisdom behind her eyes, she’d look far younger than her twenty-five years. Makes me feel like an utter pervert for lusting after her so blatantly.

Especially when my dick kicks behind my zipper.

She’s so fucking beautiful with her pretty flowery dress, wearing it for our date, that a profound ache appears in my chest.

Because I’ve now fucked everything up before it even began.

I was on my way when Eddie called to warn me Jeremy was sitting at the bar next to Holiday, and a murderous rage kicked in. I don’t know what he’s doing here or what he wants, but it only took one glance through the window to spot him leering at her for me to charge.

It’s still there, ire roiling through my blood like a viper ready to strike, even while my entire focus is trained on Holiday and the shock on her face .

“Holiday,” I begin softly, stepping toward her slowly, doing my best not to frighten her.

A musky, floral scent floats between us, and the ache in my chest deepens. It’s the scent I’ve been dreaming of since the summer fair. The one I’ll forever associate with her.

Holiday’s eyes flick to mine briefly, then back to my former best friend. He’s grinning like a lunatic, trying to stem the flow of blood seeping from his mouth and nose.

I hate him.

I hate that my first reaction to seeing him with Holiday was violence.

I hate that she’s looking at him.

I hate that I’m flooded with shame at what she witnessed, but that I’d do it all over again if I had to.

“Who is that?” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper.

I’m interrupted before I can answer when Jeremy thrusts a hand out to her. “Jeremy Glenroths, delighted to meet you.”

Two tiny lines appear between her brows, and she blinks, trying to connect the dots as to why I would storm in here and punch a stranger in the face. But then she looks at me, and I see her perceive the situation. There’s a good deal of hurt in there too, and perhaps some understanding.

Air sticks in my throat as Holiday steps forward. Blood whooshes in my ears, and the viper gets ready to strike.

Jeremy’s hand is still aimed straight toward her. He’s expecting her to take it, though I can promise if he so much as touches her, he’ll be on his back again after I rip his fucking arm off.

Except she doesn’t take it. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and leans forward ever so slightly.

“Hey, asshole, if I’d have known who you were, I’d have punched you long before Lando did.”

Well, that was unexpected. I smother a grin.

“Touché.” Jeremy reaches for the packet of tissues and stuffs one up his nose. “I see the big man’s already told you all about me. Must say, huge fan of your work.”

“Go to hell,” she snarls in a tone I didn’t even realize she was capable of, flipping him off as she spins around. Rising on her tiptoes, she brushes her lips against my cheek. “Take as long as you need.”

The pleasure I gain from that small interaction is insurmountable.

The shame morphs into a sizable lump.

My eyes stay on her as she walks away, hair bouncing around. Eddie’s standing by the door, ready to let her out. She pulls him into a hug, followed by a kiss on his cheek. Even from where I’m standing, I can see the blush creeping over him.

Hollywood’s sweetheart and my defender rolled into one.

And just like that, I become her biggest fan.

She pauses on the threshold and turns, a soft smile lighting her face, and the power of it hits me right in the chest. It’s exactly what I need to get through the next hour of my life.

Throwing Jeremy a final deeply withering look I hope I’m never on the receiving end of, she leaves the pub. The bolts clatter as Eddie locks the doors behind her.

I find Jeremy’s gaze following her as she passes by the window, and my fists ball. I’m going to kill him.

“Right, you two, the place is empty. I’ll be in the back. Try not to break too much,” Eddie gripes and trundles off, leaving us alone for the first time since the evening before my wedding.

Ironic that he’s also ruined the first proper date night I’ve had in forever too. And if I have to have a conversation with the dickhead, I’m not going to do it sober.

Spotting a bottle of Glenmorangie on the shelf, I pour myself a large glass and knock it back, followed by another.

“I’ll take one of those. ”

I pause, drumming my fingers against the bar, deciding whether I want to share this bottle with the guy I used to share everything with.

Then decide I don’t.

My petty pants fit great today.

“No, you won’t.”

He huffs a dry chuckle, pulls himself to standing, and rounds the bar.

Over the years, we’ve served ourselves here more times than I can count.

He knows where the glasses are, and he knows where the good bottles are.

With Alex, Hendricks, and Miles, we would frequently have lock-ins after hours with groups of friends, and in the morning, Eddie would count up the damage and add it to our running tabs.

I don’t bother looking at him while I slowly sip. “If you take one more step, I’ll black your other eye.”

“Jeez. Calm down,” he replies but shifts back. After picking up one of the barstools that fell over in the scuffle, he sits on it. “How ’bout that ice? Can I have that?”

I glance down at the bowl. It’s now more water than ice, and I’ve had my fist in it, but I push it toward him anyway. Picking out one of the cubes, he runs it across his swollen lip.

He’s silent as he does so, and while I’m not in the business of making things easier for him, I absolutely do not want to spend a second longer in here than I have to. Holiday is my priority, and I have a ruined evening to make up for.

“What are you doing here, Jez?”

He drops the cube into the bowl. “Came to invite you to a wedding. Caroline and I are getting married, if you haven’t heard.”

I eye him carefully. He was always one who liked to shock, just for kicks. I also know him well enough that their wedding is not why he came to Valentine Nook.

“Don’t you want to offer your congratulations?” he asks when I remain silent .

“Not really.”

“Do you want to know why we’re getting married?”

I swill the amber liquid in the bottom of my glass. “Nope.”

“Caroline’s pregnant.”

My heart stops. My stomach bottoms out. A high-pitched ringing sounds in my ears.

“You should see your face.” Jeremy slaps his hand on the bar and barks out a loud laugh. “It’s mine, but wow , that would have really thrown a spanner in the works. I can imagine Victoria wouldn’t take too happily to the news either. How is she, by the way? Do send my regards to the duchess?—”

I’m too busy catching my breath with relief to really pay much attention to what he’s saying.

For a split second, my life flashed before my eyes.

The acrimony Hendricks went through with Max’s mother nearly killed him, and the prospect of working through it myself isn’t something I ever wish to experience.

But once the relief has passed, it’s followed by an unexpected pang of sadness. I’d always assumed Jeremy would have been godfather and vice versa when we had children. Now the future of Burlington lies with Max.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Wanted you to hear it from me before anyone else.”

I laugh at that. A big, heartfelt laugh because the thought of him sparing my feelings after everything that’s happened is so ridiculous it’s absurd.

I’m still chuckling when Jeremy reaches around the bar for a cloth, drops a handful of ice into it, and holds it against his eye.

“So you and the American?—”

The laughter dies on my lips. “Don’t you fucking mention her name. Don’t you even think about her.”

“Whoa, Your Grace . That’s quite the temper you’ve developed,” he taunts and moves the ice cloth down to his nose. “You want to know what I find interesting?”

“No, I really don’t, but I guess I’m going to find out.”

“Cor- rect .” This time, he gets up, walks behind the bar, and pours himself a glass of whiskey.

And I don’t stop him. I’m too scared that I’ll take another swing at him, and this time, I’ll keep going.

“You almost murder me because I’m sitting next to a woman you’ve known less than two months, yet your fiancée falls in love with another man right under your nose, and you don’t even notice. ”

“Your point?”

“My point. Hmm. I saw a photo of you and . . . um . . . that foreign person who was just in here.”

I roll my eyes. “So?”

He glugs the whiskey and places his glass on the bar. I’d almost forgotten how much Jeremy loves a dramatic pause and how much they used to irritate the fuck out of me.

“In four years with Caroline, I never saw you look at her like that. But you know what? I look at her like that. I always did, something else you never noticed.”

I know what he means.

After Miles told me to check out the photo, I pulled it from the pile of media notices I never usually bother to read. Even I was surprised. But not from the way I’m looking at her—like she’s the first sunny day after a month of rain—or the way she’s laughing at me.

It’s the absence of stress and worry.

There’s a lightness to my expression. A rarity after two days of meetings and years of living up to my obligations.

Perhaps Holiday is my sunny day.

“This is why you came all this way? Because you saw a fucking photo? Or because my powers of observation aren’t up to your standard?”

He shakes his head with a scoff and gets up off the stool. Walking to the other side of the bar, he picks up a brown box, which I’d assumed was Eddie’s, and places it in front of me.

“I love Caroline, but I have to admit that for the last six months, I’ve also been wracked with guilt. I should have handled things differently, and I regret losing you as a friend, but it’s a cost I have to bear.”

I blink hard at words I never expected to hear. “Are you asking for my forgiveness?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Then I’ll ask again, what the fuck are you doing here?”

His chin jerks to the box. “Everything you ever gave Caroline.”

I peer at the box but don’t open it. I don’t want to look in it.

“It’s time to draw a line and start fresh. We’re having a baby now, our life is real, and I don’t want it to be funded in any way by you. Caroline would have brought it herself, but I don’t think she would have been quite as welcomed as I have.” He laughs dryly.

“Then give it to fucking charity. I don’t want it.”

Ignoring me, he tips back the remainder of his whiskey and turns for the door. I expect him to walk out without saying a word, but after he’s unlocked all the bolts, he stops with his hand gripped around the handle.

“Take care of yourself, my friend. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

I stay where I am, staring at the cardboard box. I marvel at the mundanity of it. That something so nondescript contains so much power.

Taking another slug of whiskey, I rip the seal and open it up.

Inside, I find cases of jewelry, dozens and dozens of leather and velvet boxes. Some black, some navy, a couple of red, but more than that, I find memories I’d forgotten. Blocked.

The ruby drop pendants I brought back from China when I’d had to travel last minute, the diamond tennis bracelets for the months I’d spent at the yard helping Hendricks during the first winter we were dating, earrings for every complaint Caroline made that I spent more time with Thunder than her.

The last case I pick up is a small black leather one. I don’t need to open it to know what’s in it. I should have known then that we were doomed before we’d even begun.

Caroline’s engagement ring, her second one.

It’s nothing but four million pounds’ worth of evidence. A sum total of bad decisions I’ve made in my personal life. A clear-cut sign of everything I should have done differently.

Four million pounds’ worth of jewels. Because in my heart of hearts, I was marrying someone I didn’t really like, and it was the easiest way to assuage my guilt.

A payoff.

For six months, I’ve stewed in bitterness and wallowed in my own self-pity. Everyone around me has moved on with their lives.

My mother’s words from the last few weeks sound loudly in my head. Hell, even Miles’s are ringing in my ears, followed by Clementine’s, Hendricks’s, Alex’s, and somewhere in the background, Eddie’s.

They’re all right.

I’ve been happier in the past six weeks than I’ve been in a long, long time.

And it’s not because of Holiday, but it’s taken her arrival for me to see what was missing.

I think back to what Miles said this morning.

It’s time for me to start doing what makes me happy.

Shoving the box under the bar, I call out to Eddie that I’m leaving and sprint out the door.

I have until the end of the year to enjoy my life without anyone breathing down my neck.

And a date to salvage.