“Kind of small, don’t you think?” she teased him as Giovanni placed a large paper cup of soda in front of her.
“Ah, but I have not yet begun to toss,” Colin said, winking at her. He picked up the dough, eyed it for a moment. The next thing Holly knew, the fat disk was in the air, and growing wider, thinner.
Up went the dough, spinning in the air. Down came the dough, Colin deftly catching it, spinning it, lofting it into the air once more. The dough stayed in a remarkably proportioned circle, the inside of the circle growing thinner, the edges remaining thick.
One more toss and Colin flopped the dough onto the table.
Bam!
A ladle of sauce, deftly spread to cover every bit of dough except that thicker crust
Bam!
Spices sprinkled from a large shaker.
Bam!
Two handfuls of cheese spread on the sauce.
Bam!
The wooden paddle slipped under the dough, the pizza transferred to
the brick oven.
Bam!
Giovanni’s now fully cooked pizza placed on a round metal tray Colin spun as he ran the sharp blade of a pizza cutter through it as his former boss waited on other customers.
“Well, I’m impressed,” Holly admitted as Colin went back to the sink, washed his hands and forearms, grinned at her as he wiped himself dry on his apron. “Does Max know about this talent of yours? He might be misusing you as a hotshot executive. I mean, anybody can be an executive, but only a few talented people can make that kind of magic with pizza dough.”
“You may laugh, but I’m feeling pretty proud of myself. Or maybe I shouldn’t tell you that I worried I was going to lose control of that dough, and end up with it landing on the top of my head. Now hang on. I’ll get us napkins, get myself a drink, and by then the pizza will be ready.”
“Okay,” Holly said around a mouthful of pizza a few minutes later, “now I’m
really
impressed. This is good!”
“Giovanni’s secret pizza sauce,” Colin told her. “It makes all the difference in the world.”
“Is he open to bribes? Because, if I had this recipe, I could go into business for myself back in Allentown, and make a fortune.”
“And I could toss the dough?”
Holly wiped some sauce off his chin with her napkin. “If you were in the window, tossing the dough, I wouldn’t need Giovanni’s secret recipe. Do you want that last slice? Because if you don’t grab it in the next two seconds, it’s mine.”
Nine
T
hey visited with Giovanni for another half hour, Colin catching up on news of the shop owner’s wife and children, he and Holly admiring pictures of
th
e man’s grandch
ildren. And then they said good
night, promised to come back tomorrow, and headed off up the boardwalk once more.
The sun had completely slipped behind the buildings, and the breeze off the ocean had Holly shivering sligh
tl
y as the wind ruffled the skirt of her sundress, nipped slightly at her bare shoulders.
Colin put his arm around her, drew her against his side, his strength, his warmth. “Come on, I’ll buy you a sweatshirt,” he said, directing her steps toward one of the many specialty shops along the boardwalk.
Holly thought about protesting, then remembered that she hadn’t brought her wallet with her. She e
ntered the shop, and went directl
y to an oversize sweatshirt that said He’s With Me on it. “I like this one,” she said.
“So do I,” Colin agreed, and Holly felt her cheeks grow hot. “Is there a She’s With Me to match it?”
“That’s silly. The whole idea is silly,” Holly told him, wishing she’d thought before she’d spoken. “I’m not all that into staking public claims.”
“I am,” Colin said, kissing the tip of her nose. “But you’re probably right. Look, here’s a cardigan-style sweatshirt. Simple yellow, small embroidered Ocean City logo on the pocket. Probably a better choice.”
“Definitely,”
Holly agreed, relieved. “And I’ll
pay you back.”
“Should I start running a tab?” he asked as they returned to the boardwalk, heading back to the hotel. “Just how platonic is this little exercise going to be?”
“Don’t make fun of me, please,” Holly said, pulling herself free from his grasp. “I’m having a very difficult time with this. Nobody ever proposed to me within twenty-four hours of meeting me before. I’ve been thrown a little off center. And then Julia horned in, Max, my own mother. This is all just happening too fast. You really don’t even know me.”
“Sure I do.”
“No, you don’t, Co
li
n. Just like I know nothing about you. And I’m not so shallow that I’d let myself fall in love with a pretty face.”
“I am,” he said, surprising her. “I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. And you’ve got a very pretty face. Have I mentioned yet that your eyes sort of
crossed
when you were trying to tie my bow tie? Just adorable. I was a goner from that moment, I think.”
“You’re impossible!” Holly exclaimed, even as her heart began to sing. He’d said those little words: love
you. He’d actually said them—at least two out of three of them. “Oh, all right,” she added, sighing. “I’m not going to deny that I felt
…
something,
when I first saw you. But I wouldn’t call it love. That just doesn’t happen in real life.”
“It happened to your parents,” Colin pointed out rationally, or irrationally, as Holly wanted to believe. “Why can’t it have happened to us?”
“Because I don’t
believe
in love at first sight, that’s why. I would never trust myself enough to take such a giant leap after just
looking
at someone. So this can’t be love, even if it feels like it. It’s just—”
And then she stopped, blinked, looked up at Colin. “What did I just say?”
“I think you just said you don’t trust yourself,” Colin told her as they turned into the walkway leading back to the hotel. “I might also think you just said you definitely felt something more than animal attraction, or whatever you want to call it, for me. When we first met, when I kissed you on that runway, while we were together that first night. I think you felt something Holly, and I think you’ve been fighting it, and me, ever since.”
“I have not.”
“Really?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Let’s investigate that a little, okay? First it was you didn’t date male models. You were very emphatic about that. Then it was that I was too handsome. Now it’s that you don’t know me, and you refuse to make snap decisions. The longer the list gets, Holly, the less I believe any of it.”
She felt flustered, confused, so she went on the attack as they rode up in the elevator. “I still don’t know anything about you.”
“Sure you do. You know I’m Max’s cousin, you know how I grew up, where I work. You know I worked my way through college, so I’m not just a spoiled rich kid. You know I like dogs, your mother—not in that order, of course. You know that I’m not at my best early in the morning, that we like the same movies and music, that I’m stubborn and don’t give up easily. Oh, and that I wear maroon briefs. There have been plenty of marriages based on a lot less.”
“I give up,” Holly said, throwing up her hands. “I can’t fight anymore, I really can’t. Please, just say goodnight, and we’ll start over in the morning, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, his grin sort of crooked, his eyes warm, so that the idea of melting into his arms seemed to be the best idea she’d had in her entire life. “Good night, Holly,” he said, then slowly drew her into his arms, kissed her.
Then kissed her again.
And again.
Her arms went up around his neck, held him close.
He stepped his body closer, slid one leg between hers.
Kissed her again.
He skimmed his hands up her sides, onto her arms, gently eased her back. “Good night.”
“Good night,” she said, wondering if that low, rather shaky voice was really her own.
She leaned against the door, watching as he walked down the hallway, longing to call him back, knowing she’d be out of her mind to call him back. But it hurt, it actually
hurt
to watch him walk away.
He stopped. Turned. Reached into his pocket. “Your
room key,” he said, heading toward her once more, holding the key card in his hand.
“Thank you,” Holly said, taking the card from him, then just standing there. Looking at him. While he looked at her. “Well, good night again.”
“Yeah,” he said, and his voice sounded a little strange, too. “Good night again.”
She still just stood there, holding that damn key card. Colin cupped her chin and cheek in his hand, leaned forward to kiss her once more. Again, she melted against him. Once more, his hands skimmed her sides, this time lingering just below her breasts, as if awaiting permission to touch her.
She moved against him, bit on his full bottom lip. Moaned softly as he moved his hands slightly higher, but not high enough. What did she have to do? Draw the man a diagram?
His mouth left hers, and he trailed kisses across her cheeks, down the length of her throat as she stood on tiptoe, trying to get closer, closer.
“Separate rooms,” he breathed into her ear. “You promised your mother, remember?”
“Huh?” Holly said, blinking. Then she stepped back, shook herself, tried to concentrate on something other than the way she felt, the way he held her, the way he kissed her. “Oh, right We really should say goodnight
.
”
“Say it and mean it,” Colin added, his grin not quite reaching his eyes for the very first time in h
er
memory. “So,
good night again.” He kissed th
e tip of her nose. “Sleep tight
.
” He kissed her mouth. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” He kissed her again.
And again. And again.
They were going everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Necking like teenagers who knew the porch light could come on at any moment. Not going too far, because anything more than kisses, caresses, would take both of them past the point of being able to stop, walk away.
Twice more he left her, never getting as far as the turn in the hallway, leading to the elevators. Twice more he came back, kissed her again. Held her. Pressed her head against his chest so that she could feel the ragged rise and fall of his chest, give her time to try to regulate her own breathing.
“This is nuts, crazy,” he said, sliding his fingers through her hair, pressing his lips against her bare shoulder. “I’ve got to let you go.”
“I know,” Holly agreed. “I’ve got to let you go, too. This is just making everything more complicated.”
“Maybe, but it’s a pretty enjoyable complication, don’t you think?” he asked her, and this time his smile did light in his eyes.
“Say good night, Colin,” she told him, turning away, slipping the key card into the slot in the door. “And, this time, you’re going to have to mean it. We both are.” The lock clicked, the light on the lock turned green and she opened the door. “There. Good night.”
“Sweet dreams,” Colin whispered, his mouth against her ear.
“Now cut that out!” she protested, rubbing at her ear, that tingled. Just as her lips were tingling. Just as her entire body was tingling, singing.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, then turned on his heels, his
hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, and walked away. She could hear him whistling as he turned the co
rn
er, went out of sight.
Holly closed the door behind her and all but collapsed against it. “I thought he’d never leave,” she told herself, knowing that what she had really meant was: “I wish he’d never gone.”
“
S
o, cuz, how go the wars?”
“Hi, Max.” Colin didn’t even bother taking time to ask how Max how tracked him down at the Ocean City hotel. “Quite well, actually, if by quite well I mean she’s still here and seems to be getting used to me.”
“Used to you? That doesn’t sound very romantic, Colin. Remember, you’re a Rafferty. We have certain standards.”
“And several drawbacks, I’m afraid, at least as far as Holly is concerned.”
Max laughed. “Our good looks. Max Deuce has them, too, mostly thanks to his beautiful mother, I think, but then I’m rather prejudiced. Although I’ve never thought of the Rafferty looks as a liability.”
“Maybe that’s because you didn’t have to compete with the bad impres
sion made by Richard the Louse-
hearted,” Colin said, pacing in his room, already wishing he’d gotten his act together sooner, and missed Max’s call.
“
Good looks, for Holly, seem to mean shallow emotions.”
“
Richard’s history,
”
Max told him.
“
And Holly was
never all that serious about him. She’s only fighting you because she’s falling so fast, so hard. She’s looking for things that would turn her off and, not finding any, she’s
trying to convince herself what she feels for you is no more than physical attraction.”
Colin moved the phone away from his ear, looked at it, then drew it back, saying, “Are you sure you’re Max? Because you sound a lot like Julia.”
“Maybe that’s because I just read you that last bit from a note my darling wife just passed to me. Look, Colin, you handle this the way you want to handle it, okay? If you want to stay in the States for a while longer, fine. Anything you want. Because Julia might be happy to see her best friend falling in love, but I’m doing handsprings over the idea of
you
falling in love.”
“So glad we’re making the two of you so happy,” Colin said, slipping his feet into his sneakers, bending to tie the laces.
“Oh, you are, you are. Wait, Julia’s scribbling again. Oh hell, here—talk to her.”
“Colin?”
“Good morning, Julia,” Colin answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“
What can I do for you? Maybe rent a video camera and put my entire courtship on tape? Anything I can do to entertain you, Julia.”
“My, we are testy in the morning, aren’t we? And here I thought you and Holly were so compatible. Maybe I should warn you. She’s one of those bright and sunny morning people, you know.”
“
I—-no, I didn’t know that,” Colin corrected quickly, knowing that anything else he might say would have Julia running even more questions by him, expecting detailed answers. “Look, Julia, I really appreciate the call. I do. But Holly and I are doing really well. Honestly. We played some miniature golf yesterday, drove
up to Atlantic City last night for a few hours. We’ve talked until we’re just about hoarse. Except for horror movies—she likes them, I don’t—we’re about as compatible as two people can be.”
“And you’re in love with her.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
“And I’m in love with her,” Colin repeated,
smiling.
“However, if you and Max don’t mind, I think I’ll do my own proposing, okay? Not that I don’t appreciate all your help, because I do.”
“I can do mo
r
e,” Julia said, her voice low, rather mysterious.
Colin shook his head, then said no. “Really, Julia. No. We’re heading back to Allentown tomorrow, I fly back to Paris on Friday. Between now and then, I’ll figure out a way to propose. One that’s better than just telling her I’m going to marry her as I hand her a hot dog.”