Reese helped Griffen square the new countertop that had finally arrived the day before: an extravagant slab of speckled granite. It had taken three men plus Reese to set the piece, but it was a beauty. She ran her fingers over the smooth edges.
Behind her, Griffen cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”
One of his hands was on the slab beside her. She could feel the heat of his body nearly touching her back.
“Oh. Sorry.” She jumped out of his way, her heart rate betraying her. She watched him finish squaring the piece. He set the level and checked. Her eyes roamed from his broad shoulders down to the sturdy span of his waist and she sighed.
The counter was the last thing. The last missing piece of the puzzle. The shop was sparkling clean and ready for merchandise. With one week to go before the wedding, she was on track for her grand opening.
But after the counter was installed, Griffen’s work here was done.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and Reese checked it before answering.
“Hey, Nat.”
Her friend screamed something, but Reese couldn’t tell what. “Wait, Nat, slow down—what happened?”
“The guy, the newspaper guy, his article, it’s in all the papers!”
“What?”
“The Associated Press reporter! The one who interviewed Carson—his article on Smitten has been picked up by tons of newspapers nationwide. It’s all about—well, I’ll send you the link. You have to read it!”
“That’s awesome!”
Griffen was looking at her with raised brows. She covered the phone. “The AP article went nationwide.”
He nodded, gave a thumbs-up, and went back to work.
“It’s everywhere, and I mean everywhere,” Natalie was saying. “The Chicago Tribune, a paper in Charlotte, and Boston, and Nashville, and just everywhere!”
“Wow, that’s amazing. And it’s positive?”
“Reservations are coming into Carson’s office by the dozens. I have to go help answer phones, but I’m sending it now. Go read it. You won’t believe it.”
Reese pocketed her phone and entered her office. “She sent the link.”
Griffen followed her into the small space. Her computer, set up a few days prior, sat in the middle of her ancient desk from home. She sank into the chair and opened her e-mail while Griffen positioned himself behind her.
“She said the article’s all over the whole country. Can you believe it?”
He pointed. “There’s the link.”
A moment later, the Washington Post page opened. A photo of the snow-speckled village topped the article.
Griffen leaned low to read it, his breath tickling the back of her ear. His elbows jutted out on each side of her.
Focus, girl. Maybe if she read aloud, he’d move his tempting self. She shifted forward and began reading.
“The Little Town That Could.” She smiled. “I like that.”
She cleared her throat and began.
“Once upon a time there was a tiny village named Smitten, snug at the base of Sugarcreek Mountain in northern Vermont. The town, home to country-singing sensation Sawyer Smitten, thrived due to its booming milling industry.
“One day the economy turned bad, and the little town lost its major employer. The town’s engine had faltered, and the residents feared Smitten was months away from dying. But an idea swept through the village: What if we turn Smitten into a romantic getaway destination? Nearby ski slopes, cozy cabins, and a secluded lake made it the ideal location for a romantic rendezvous . . . not to mention the very name of the town. The engine roared to life.
“An idea was born, but could the town pull off the major transition? Some feared not. Enter a little girl with a big faith. Five-year-old Mia Mansfield was in Sunday school when she heard a story of faith. She took it upon herself to pray for her village. Then little Mia hung a lavender wreath on her door, a symbol of her faith that Smitten would not only survive but thrive once again. Word spread, and wreaths began appearing on doorways throughout the tiny village.
“And then Sawyer Smitten and his Hollywood fiancée Kate Owens decided on a Valentine’s Day wedding in Smitten. The villagers’ hopes soared. Wealthy guests and media were just what the town needed to put Smitten on the map. The little engine began a long uphill climb.
“Renovations began: a new ice rink was installed on the town square, the river walk was revamped, the Carriage House bed-and-breakfast hung its shingle, the chapel was restored to its former glory, and new stores opened—a sweet shop, a spa, an artisan gallery, and an outfitters store, all catering to traveling lovebirds. The town emptied its coffers, then raised more money and emptied them once again. As the money drained, so did their faith. But the villagers looked to the wreaths, hanging on nearly every door in town, to remind them of their faith.
“Now, with renovations complete and the wedding around the corner, all the residents of Smitten, Vermont, can do is wait. The destiny of their village is only a week away, a short but steep climb to the top of the hill.
“When asked if she thought the town could pull off its monumental task, little Mia smiled confidently and said, ‘I think we can.’”
Hope flowed through Reese. It was a wonderful, heartwarming story. She leaned back and smiled over her shoulder. “What a great article—”
Griffen was still there, a mere breath away, his head propped on his arm. She inhaled, and the faint scent of his musky soap teased her senses. Their eyes locked, and she felt her smile slipping away. The moment drew out, lingering in the air, a moment that would either land nimbly on Something Meaningful or sprawl awkwardly on the floor between them.
“Reese . . .” His eyes were pools of liquid, pulling her into their warm depths. “You’re buzzing.”
It took three full seconds for his meaning to kick in. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She popped from the chair and pulled out her phone, her heart scampering away to hide beneath her ribs.
“Yeah,” she said, answering it, her voice breathless.
“Did you hear?”
“Sawyer. Yeah. Yeah, I just read the article. Great, huh?”
Noises sounded behind her, but she didn’t dare turn around. Didn’t want Griffen to see the flush that heated her cheeks.
“I’ll say.”
“Nat said the phones are lighting up at Carson’s office.”
“He told me. I’d say things are going better than anyone expected.”
“I’d say so.”
At least some things were. She could hear Griffen working in the store, and turned to face her empty office.
“Well, all eyes are on Smitten now,” Sawyer said.
“I think you’re right.”
“Hey, I also wanted to thank you again for the ski lesson.
I’ve been practicing on my own, and I think I can pull it off without embarrassing myself too badly.”
“That’s great, Sawyer.”
“Thank Griffen for me too. You guys make a great couple.”
Her heart gave a little squeeze. “Will do.”
“Listen, I gotta run, but I know you were worried, so thought I’d call.”
“Thanks. See you around.”
Reese sank onto the window ledge, her legs shaky from the adrenaline rush. Was Griffen weirded out by the moment they’d just shared? Had he guessed her feelings? Had she seen something in his eyes, or had she only imagined what she longed to see?
She should just go tell him. Walk into the room, turn him around, and tell him she was in love with him, not Sawyer. Maybe she’d pull it off this time.
But even as the thought formed, even as the ticking clock grew louder and seemed to pick up speed, her fingers gripped tight on the windowsill and refused to let go.