Mila took the stained wedding gown with her to the office on Monday. It was a busy day, but the hours she’d put in on Sunday afternoon meant everything was going smoothly on the closing and the deed transfer. With a cup of hot black coffee by her side, she’d worked steadily, not only on Hersch’s house, but also on a couple of other deals she had cooking. She was trying to help a nice young couple buy their first home so they could start a family, and another couple were thinking about selling their exciting treetop two-bedroom but hadn’t decided yet. She was itching to list such an unusual house. She checked in with both couples, and then at lunchtime, decided she’d better get Tessa’s wedding dress to the dry cleaner.
It was a gorgeous day, and she relished the fresh, salty air and that buzzy feeling she always got at the start of a new week—like anything was possible. Her office was just a few minutes from Ocean Avenue, where so many of Carmel’s restaurants and high-end boutiques lined the streets and where her trusted dry cleaner had been operating for twenty years. She loved living here, even after all the travel she’d done when pro surfing. No other place in the world gave her the tingly feeling Carmel did. It was home.
She passed Saint Anna’s, where she resisted popping in for another coffee, or a pastry—treats were mostly relegated to the weekends and Tuesday coffee dates with Erin and Tessa. In the window, she saw a young family she’d worked with to secure them a new home last year. The smiles on their faces when they spotted her were so wide and sincere, she waved back enthusiastically. It was the part of her job she relished the most—helping people find their dream homes. Yes, the thrill of closing a big-dollar deal was a high of its own, but serving the community and getting to meet so many new people week in and week out gave her the kind of job satisfaction she knew she needed since her surfing career had ended.
Then she noticed her former clients raising confused eyebrows. She looked down. Of course. She was carrying a wedding dress—they could see it through the clear plastic zipper bag. She tried to gesture that the dress didn’t belong to her, but since this was impossible to do one-handed, she just shrugged and waved good-bye. She wasn’t planning to get tied down anytime soon—even if her mind was full of a certain man right now.
She hiked up the bag and was about to push open the door to the dry cleaner when she literally bumped into Herschel Greenfield. Apart from the immediate electric thrill she felt from coming into contact with his body, she was also a little spooked. Had she just summoned his presence by thinking about him so much? It was like the universe was having fun with her. When she recovered her composure and focused, she was pleased to see his face had lit up.
She grinned and suddenly had no idea what to say to the man she’d been talking to in her head all day long.
“Hey there,” he said. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
Had she been walking quickly? Probably. She was always conscious of time. “I’m just taking a wedding dress to be cleaned.”
“Oh,” he said, and then the light in his eyes faded. “You’re married?” He sounded extremely disappointed as his eyes darted to her left hand.
She laughed. “Oh, hell no. Marriage is not for me. I can’t imagine being stuck with one man all my—” She abruptly stopped. What was wrong with her? Again, she’d blurted something completely inappropriate. She was mortified.
Hersch must have thought it was inappropriate, too, because his expression became confused and then hurt—as though he was taking her words straight to his heart. She stared at him, puzzled by the strong reaction. But then she realized something else. Even as she spoke, she’d wondered whether it might not be true anymore, because there was a very secret part of her that had started thinking of Herschel Greenfield as The One.
To her embarrassment, she blushed. Mila Davenport never blushed, not even when her bikini top rode up while surfing, not when she misremembered the square footage of a house, not even when her career had been upended. Desperate to move the conversation to a different track, she said, “Are you going to the dry cleaner too?” It wasn’t the most scintillating question, but at least it was neutral ground.
Hersch shook his head. “I’m heading to the paint and bedding stores. I have no idea what I’m doing. I just feel like I should start getting ready for when I get the keys to that house.” He gave a kind of helpless shrug, which was so charming that she regained her confidence and grinned.
Plus, she’d now had time to take in the athletic, casual clothing that showed off his incredible physique, even if nothing actually matched. If ever there was a man who needed the help of a woman with a good sense of design and color, it was Herschel Greenfield. She said, “Do you want some help? I’m a pretty decent amateur decorator.”
He looked so relieved she nearly laughed. “I cannot tell you how much I would appreciate some help,” he said. “I can service the oxygen generator in a space shuttle, and I can conduct experiments on flammability with a clear mind after a hundred days in microgravity, but pick a shade of paint for the bedroom? Find a bedspread that’ll match? I haven’t a clue.”
Mila grinned again. There was something adorable about someone so smart he was kind of nerdy and didn’t know how to navigate a paint store. In order to spare him from an entire house decorated in beige, she said, “Just let me drop this dress at the dry cleaner. I’ll be right out, and then we can go together.”
She went in, and Martin, the owner, assured her that no one would ever know there’d been water damage once he’d worked his magic on the dress. He enthusiastically explained his special technique. She didn’t quite follow it, but understood that a solution could gently pull the stain off the ivory satin without any damage. That was all she needed to know. She took the receipt and headed back out to where Herschel stood on the sidewalk. It felt good to see him waiting for her, and she was already looking forward to helping him run errands.
He said, “Who’s getting married?”
“Just a friend of mine,” she said, trying not to feel guilty. It wasn’t a lie. Tessa was a friend of hers. But even though she was sure she could trust Herschel, it was better not to mention that her famous brother was about to tie the knot before it was officially announced.
The paint store was a five-minute walk, and they spent the time in easy conversation, just like when she’d taken him to see the houses. It was striking how easy he was to talk to, how relaxed she felt in his company. After all, there weren’t many people in the world for whom she would extend her lunch break. Hersch might be the very first outside of her immediate family.
Once inside the paint store, however, Hersch’s mood immediately seemed to dip. He stood among all the thousands of paint swatches and color-pathway books and looked at her with something like desperation. “I don’t even know which color to choose.” He held up a book and grimaced. “How is ochre different than tan? What is ochre, anyway?”
She had to laugh. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’m going to help you. We can narrow this down.”
He glanced around to where a woman and her decorator were comparing shades of green and two couples were poring over swatches. “It’s been so long since I decorated my other house that I barely remember how.” He sighed. “I don’t mean to sound old-fashioned, but most men who buy houses have wives to help them. I never did.”
Hersch might be a little stuck in the 1950s, but he was also so lost it was cute. She took the whole book of various shades of tan out of his hands and put it back. “The first thing you need to understand is that before you make a decision, you take swatches home and look at them against the walls in your house. The light changes all the time. What you might think is evergreen in the morning looks more like pine at night. You won’t be able to change everything all at once if you move in right away, so I think we should start with your bedroom. Most of the other rooms seemed okay for now, but you really want the primary bedroom to feel like it’s yours right away.”
Mila blinked. She’d mentioned his bedroom again. But if Hersch noticed, he didn’t show it. Instead, he said, “How can I take any swatches there if I don’t have the keys yet?”
“Let me see what I can do.” She quickly texted Dan and asked if it would be okay for her client to take another look at the house he was buying. As she’d suspected, he replied right away that it was no problem.
She told Hersch the good news, and his eyes filled with light again. “What are your favorite colors?” she asked.
He pulled a dorky face. “I don’t know. Blue?”
She shook her head. Such an obvious answer for a man.
Still, she could do something with that. She grabbed a few cards that offered a main shade and then complementary colors for trim and accessories, making sure there was always at least a little blue. But he was really starting from scratch.
“I’m tempted to start with the bedding and decorate around that,” she said.
He seemed quite open to all her suggestions, so they walked to a luxury bedding store she really liked. Even better, the owner turned part of her showroom over to creating entire bedrooms for inspiration, which Mila thought might make it easier for Hersch to envision what his room would look like.
But as they walked through the store together, most of the bedroom setups looked either too feminine to Mila’s eye or too traditional. She could see that Hersch wasn’t very interested in any of them. He headed over to a rack of interior-design magazines and began to flip through. She watched his expression from across the room, noting what a handsome figure he cut against gold-flecked wallpaper. He paused, sensing her eyes on him, and then came over to her with the open magazine.
“I like this one,” he said.
The photograph featured a modern-looking bed with a bedspread so dark a blue it was almost black, with white sheets and pillows with the same dark navy stripe combined with pillows in solid navy. The wall behind it was a smudgy gray. It was understated and sophisticated. She said, “What do you like about it?”
He thought for a second. “I like the depth of the color. It’s almost as if you could fall into it and float. Plus, it looks like a black-and-white photograph. I’ve got some gorgeous photographs taken from space. They’d look really good against those walls.”
She nodded, pleased. She loved how he’d chosen something that would be so simple to make work. In less than half an hour, they were walking out with all the bedding he would need, plus ideas for complementary draperies or blinds. They’d have to measure first, and anyway Herschel wasn’t sure he even wanted curtains, as there was so much privacy.
They headed back to the paint store and picked an entirely different palette of soft gray possibilities, which would make his framed photographs really pop.
She said, “I think you might need to get a couple of new pieces of furniture for that bedroom too. The current owners’ stuff is just too traditional.”
He heaved a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you said that. I am happy to take it all, just so long as I don’t have to keep it all. I was thinking of donating some of the better pieces to a charity.”
She leaned in close and whispered, “I’ll never tell them if you don’t.” Since she didn’t think they would ever come back to the Carmel area, as they had decided to settle in New York near their children and grandchildren, she figured she and Hersch were on pretty safe ground.
When they walked out of the shop, he said, as though admitting a great secret, “I have to tell you, I don’t mind keeping that bed. It looks perfectly serviceable, but I would like to have a new mattress.”
For a moment, Mila let her mind go to the dirty places it wanted to. She pictured Hersch, naked, waiting for her on that bed, and the image drove her wild. She redirected her enthusiasm and agreed. “If I were buying somebody else’s bed, I’d want a new mattress too.”
She could see he was looking at her with a kind of questioning gaze. She let herself hope that he was also imagining them together on that bed… But then she realized what he was really asking.
She laughed softly at herself and shook her head. “Yes, okay, I’ll go mattress shopping with you.”
She checked her watch, mindful that her to-do list was never done. However, Hersch was a great client. She was happy that she’d worked so hard earlier in the day, and of course her cell phone was always on. She could allow herself a bit of freedom. She was with a client, after all…
The moment they walked into the mattress store, she could tell he was somewhat overwhelmed by the rows and rows of options. Before a salesperson could even approach them, she said, “You have to lie on the mattresses and pretend you’re sleeping, or you won’t be able to make a good choice. A mattress is a very personal thing.”
He looked embarrassed. “Just lie down in the middle of the store? Do I take my shoes off?”
“I don’t think so. I think these are specially made for people to try out.”
He looked a little skeptical, but she could see he was willing to follow her advice. A salesperson spotted them and came over. The young man, dressed in a smart blue suit, introduced himself as Ted and asked what they were looking for. She realized he was assuming they were a couple.
Hersch cleared his throat and said, “A bed. For a primary bedroom.”
In a deep, reassuring voice, Ted said, “If you’re going to be purchasing your main bed, then may I suggest one of these three?”
Since she was a salesperson herself, Mila immediately respected his approach. A good salesperson knew instinctively to narrow down the choices to something that Hersch could handle. She could see Hersch’s shoulders droop with relief that he had to think about only three beds. Of course, they were high-end beds, but she suspected that was the kind of thing Hersch was looking for anyway.
Her personal opinion about beds was that since you spent a lot of time on them, you should buy the best you could afford. She didn’t have to voice that, because she strongly suspected Ted would have the same opinion and would give Hersch the guidance he needed.
Another couple called Ted away, and he recommended that they try the three mattresses and see what they thought. He promised to come back over and check in with them. Mila was happy they would be able to do this bit of shopping without Ted watching them. It wasn’t exactly relaxing to lie down in front of a complete stranger, and to test a bed properly, you needed to try to imagine it was in your own room already.
She said as much to Hersch, who obediently got on the first bed and then looked up at her. “Aren’t you going to join me? I feel like an idiot lying here by myself.”
She didn’t have to be asked twice. She’d been thinking about this since she’d first seen him. Although it wasn’t as private a space as in her fantasies, she settled beside him. He smelled wonderful—like fresh air and healthy male. She fixed her gaze on the ceiling in case he saw the desire in her eyes. In the most neutral tone she could muster, she said, “You should move around a bit. See how it feels against your body.”
He rolled so he was on his side, staring at her, and then she did the same. As soon as she looked into his eyes, she knew that he mirrored her desire and couldn’t hide it any more than she could. They didn’t speak. The sensual sparks were doing all the talking for them. What’s more, those sparks were so hot she thought the mattress might catch fire.
Finally, he said, “This one feels good.”
She nodded. “You need to compare it with the others to be sure.”
But clearly neither of them wanted to move. A few more seconds of staring into Hersch’s soulful eyes passed before Mila made herself roll over and swing her feet to the floor. “Let’s try the next one.”
As they settled on another luxurious mattress, Mila’s heart began to race. She wanted to rip off Hersch’s clothes and run her hands over his impressive body. But they were in public. It was a special kind of scintillating torture.
Again, they shifted their bodies to face each other. Again, she knew they were both imagining what it would feel like if they were under some covers rather than on top of a bare mattress in a store. Again, it took them an age to move on to the third mattress.
When they’d tested them all, Hersch got to his feet and extended a hand. She accepted it, a thrill coursing through her body as she felt his firm grip help her up. He was so darned strong.
“It was the first mattress for me,” he said, and she noted his voice had turned a little husky.
Oddly, it was the same mattress Mila would have chosen, so she was able to give her unqualified approval.
He bought the mattress and arranged to have it delivered, and then as they left the store, he turned to her with a slightly sheepish look. “I know you’ve done so much for me already, Mila, but is there any way I could convince you to come to the house to take a look at the swatches there? All your advice and guidance so far has been so valuable.”
If such a thing were possible, her heart simultaneously soared and sank. She was thrilled that Hersch wanted to spend more time together, even if it was over paint swatches. But she was also mentally going over her to-do list.
He could see her hesitation. “I’m sorry. I’ve taken up too much of your time already. Forgive me for asking.”
But, she decided, there wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait, and if anyone needed her, she had her phone with her. So she said in her flirtiest tone, “How about I do it just because I think you’re cute?”
He opened and then closed his mouth before his cheeks flushed. Clearly, her teasing flustered him. She had to admit she quite liked that she could make this big, muscly astronaut blush.