Page 110 of The Quit List
“I doubt anything’s come through yet,” I say as the page loads slowly. “But with the stuff you captured out there? No question that the bookings will be pouring in once that footage is live and…”
I trail off.
Stare at my screen.
“Holly, I think there’s a booking on here.”
“What did I tell you?” she sings. “Grainger Guides is officially open for business. When’s it for?”
“Hopefully not too soon,” I say lightly. “Still gotta get a privacy screen for the outdoor shower before any guests come my way.” I smirk at her. “You know, to reduce Sasquatch sightings.”
She throws a little pot of creamer at me.
“It’s for…” I look back at my phone and note the dates. Swallow. “Next week.”
Seven days away. I’m not ready.
And more than that, Holly’s injured. Can I really leave her to finish all my prep work at the cabin?
How the hell am I going to do this?
“Here we go.” Cheryl suddenly appears back at our table with her arms full of plates. “Two orders of pancakes with a side of bacon to get you started, and your eggs and waffles will be out shortly.”
“Thanks,” I say distractedly, my mind still on the problem at hand.
“Out on the Appalachian trails, were you?” Cheryl asks after setting down the plates. Hikers and campers often come through here, and our current, bedraggled, sight-for-sore-eyes state is nothing new to her, I’m sure. But she’s eyeing us with curious interest.
“We were,” Holly says enthusiastically, and then launches into a spiel about me and my cabin and Grainger Guides and the first booking that’s come in. Seriously, it’s like she’s been reciting the elevator pitch for years.
It strikes me, once again, what a natural she is with all this marketing stuff… aside from one very current, very obvious problem.
“I’m not sure you sitting there with an injured foot is the best advertisement for my business,” I say with a wry smile.
“Nonsense, honeypie!” Cheryl pats my shoulder as she refills my mug. “This little lady’s face is glowing like she just had the best few days of her life.”
She shoots me a wink and I can feel the red creeping up my neck as I look at Holly.
She does look happy—which could be the painkillers kicking in—but somehow, I know it’s not. Somehow I know it’s… us. This life-changing trip we went on together that progressed from friendship to kissing to so much more.
And at this moment, I realize with startling clarity that I already know how I’m going to do this. Because, when it comes to Holly, I no longer want to be the temporary distraction.
I can’t bear even the hint of a thought of another man with Holly.
Another man holding her, kissing her, touching her…
It makes me want to lose my damned mind.
I want to be the real deal for her.
Everything else comes second.
39
HOLLY
Lying on my couch with my foot propped up was kinda fun. For about a day.
It’s been five days now, and let me tell you, it is no longer all that fun.