Merry with a Playmaker (Love Beach Holiday Collection)

Chapter Two

The jasmine-scented breeze dances through the café's open windows as Evan leans forward, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "So, Merry, tell me - how has the world of numbers and strategies been treating you?"

I snort. "Oh, changing the world one spreadsheet at a time. The usual."

"I'd expect nothing less from the brilliant Merry Robinson." He winks, and a traitorous flutter in my stomach.

I sip my Mexican Hot Chocolate enjoying the bite of heat at the back of my throat. "What about you, Mr. Rugby Star? Still basking in the glow of your glory days?"

Evan clutches his chest. "You cut me deep, Mer. Remember, I'm a changed man. Retired, reformed, and ready for new adventures."

"Is that so?" I study him. "What kind of adventures did you have in mind?"

He leans back. "Well, for starters, catching up with an old friend over coffee. Convince her to join me for a little holiday fun?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Holiday fun? Sounds like you're up to something, de Nemours."

"Me? Never." He chuckles, but there's a glimmer of sincerity in his gaze. "Mer, it's been too long."

It's just the coffee, I tell myself. Definitely not the way Evan's looking at me like...

Like maybe there's still a spark between us. A spark that never quite died out despite the passage of time.

I'm not that girl anymore. The one who let herself get swept up in charming smiles and grand gestures. I've built a life for myself, and I'm not about to let Antoine “Evan” de Nemours waltz back in and turn it upside down.

No matter how tempting it might be.

~·~·~·~·

A familiar laugh catches my attention, and I glance up to see Sylvie, Evan's sister, sauntering into the café. She spots us a knowing grin spreading across her face as she raises an eyebrow at our cozy seating arrangement.

"Well, well, well," she drawls, making her way over to our table. "What do we have here?"

Evan shoots her a look, but there's a fondness in his exasperation. "Hello to you too, sis."

Sylvie ignores him, turning her mischievous gaze on me. "Merry Robinson, I didn't expect to find you here, canoodling with my brother."

My cheeks warm, but I keep my tone light. "Canoodling? I think you're reading too much into a simple coffee catch-up."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it these days?" She winks, and I laugh.

Evan shakes his head, standing up to usher Sylvie away. "Alright, that's enough out of you. Don't you have some art to create or something?"

"Fine, fine, I can take a hint." Sylvie holds up her hands in mock surrender. "But don't think I won't be grilling you later, brother dearest."

With a parting grin, she sashays off to the counter, leaving Evan to turn back to me with an exaggerated sigh.

"Sorry about that," he says, his tone dripping with feigned apology. "Little sisters, you know how they are."

"I'm sure you had nothing to do with her sudden appearance."

Evan places a hand over his heart, his eyes wide with innocence. "Moi? I'm wounded by your accusation, Mer. Purely a coincidence, I assure you."

"Mhmm." I narrow my eyes at him, trying to suppress a smile. "A coincidence. Just like running into you here was a coincidence."

His grin is unrepentant. "The universe works in mysterious ways."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. "The universe, huh? And here I thought it might have something to do with a certain someone's propensity for scheming."

Evan laughs, the sound warm and familiar. "Scheming? You make me sound like some sort of villain. I prefer to think of it as...strategic planning."

"Is that what we're calling it these days?" I echo Sylvie's words, my lips twitching.

"Call it what you will, but you can't deny that it's been nice catching up. Admit it, Robinson, you missed me."

I can't quite hide my smile. "Missed you?"

"Ouch." Evan clutches his chest, feigning hurt. "You always did know how to wound a man's ego."

"Someone has to keep you in check," I retort, but there's no real bite to my words.

Bantering with Evan like this, it feels...right. Like slipping into a familiar rhythm, a dance we've done a thousand times before.

The rational part of my brain that kept me focused and driven while on my own in whole ass other country is whisper shouting a warning. Don't get too comfortable, Merry. Don't let yourself fall back into old patterns.

After all, we're not the same people we were back in college. We've grown, changed, moved on with our lives.

Haven't we?

Evan's gaze turns more serious, his voice lowering. "Merry, seeing you again after all this time, it feels like...unfinished business."

I raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore another inconvenient flutter at his words. "Unfinished business? I wasn't aware we had any."

He shrugs, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "We do."

"Evan, that was a long time ago. We were just going different ways."

"Were we?" He challenges. His eyes boring into mine. "From where I'm sitting, it feels like we just weren't ready then, but now..."

He trails off, letting the unspoken possibility hang in between us.

I buy myself time to think with a quick sip of my cocoa.

I set my mug down, meeting Evan's gaze head-on. "Okay, I'll bite. What are you proposing we do about this so-called 'unfinished business'?"

He grins. "Well, for starters, there's the annual Love Beach holiday festival this weekend. We could go together like a date."

I raise an eyebrow. "Like a date? The holiday festival? Isn't that a bit...cliché?"

"Cliché? Merry, I'm wounded. Here I am, trying to orchestrate a heartwarming reunion, and you're calling me cliché."

Despite myself, I chuckle. "Orchestrate, huh? So you admit this little coffee shop run-in wasn't just a coincidence?"

He has the grace to look abashed. "Let's just say I had a hunch you might be here."

"Wow, stalker much?"

"Think of it more as purposeful reconnaissance."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

We both laugh, the banter flowing as it's always between us. It's nice, this feeling of familiarity, of picking up right where we left off.

"In all seriousness, Mer, I'd like to spend some time with you while we're both in town."

I hesitate, torn between the pull of temptation and the safety of the status quo.

The logical part of my brain holds me back, reminding me of all the reasons why getting involved with Evan again could be a spectacularly bad idea.

My lungs fill as I try to sort through my conflicted feelings.

I look at Evan, at the hope and affection reflected on his face, and my resistance starts to crumble.

"Okay," I say. "Let's go to the festival."

Evan's answering smile is brighter than all the lights in Love Beach.

I shrug trying to play it cool even as my heart races with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. "Why not? It's the holidays, after all. 'Tis the season for taking chances, right?"

Evan's grin widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way I remember so well. He stands, offering me his hand with a flourish. "Then let's go make some holiday magic, shall we?"

I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. His touch sends a spark of electricity I can't quite ignore. We head for the door, our hands still linked, and I try not to overthink what this all means.

We step out into the night, Evan turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Fate seems to have a pretty good sense of humor, bringing us together like this."

"Fate?"

He shrugs, his grin turning playful. "Hey, I'm just saying. Of all the coffee shops in all the world, you walked into mine. Twice. That's got to mean something, right?"

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"You love it." He winks, giving my hand a squeeze before reluctantly letting go. "I'll pick you up at seven for the festival. Wear something warm."

I nod, feeling a flutter of excitement in my stomach. "Seven it is."

We part ways, Evan heading off down the street with a wave.

It's a shame we aren't here during swimsuit season.

~·~·~·~·

A holiday tune escapes my lips as I walk back to the beach house, the unexpected delight of the day still lingering in my steps. The salty breeze tangles through my curls, and I smile at the sheer absurdity of it all. Evan de Nemours, back in my life and as charming as ever.

I climb the porch steps. The warm glow of the windows beckons me inside, the laughter of my family drifting out to greet me.

"There she is!" My aunt Lori calls out as I step through the door, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Were have you been all afternoon, missy?"

I shrug off my coat, aiming for nonchalance. "Out enjoying the holiday buzz."

"Uh-huh." She smirks, her gaze far too knowing for my liking. "This 'holiday buzz' wouldn't happen to have a name, would it?"

I busy myself with hanging up my scarf, keeping my back turned to hide the heat rising in my cheeks. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." Lori laughs, the sound warm and rich. "Just so you know, I've got my eye on you, Merry Robinson. You can't keep secrets from me for long."

I turn to face her, schooling my features into a mask of innocence. "Secrets? Me? Never."

Even as the words leave my mouth, the corners of my lips twitch, threatening to give me away. Lori just shakes her head, a knowing glint in her eye as she turns to the kitchen.

I exhale, leaning against the wall trying to collect myself. It's just coffee, I remind myself. Just two old friends catching up.

No need to make it into something it's not.

Even as I repeat the words like a mantra, I can't quite shake the flutter in my stomach, the whisper of possibility that lingers.

Damn you, Evan de Nemours. Damn you and your charming smile and your uncanny ability to turn my world upside down with a single glance.

I push off the wall and head towards the laughter and chatter of my family. Whatever this is, whatever fate has in store, I'm ready for it, but first, I need a glass of wine.

Or three.

~·~·~·~·

I settle onto the couch, wedged between my cousins and their spirited debate over the merits of peppermint versus cinnamon in holiday baking, I let my mind wander back to Evan. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the effortless charm that seemed to radiate from every pore.

It's infuriating how easily he can get under my skin. All it takes is one look, one well-timed quip, and I'm right back where I started. Flustered, off-balance, and more than a little intrigued.

The spicy notes of the wine dance across my tongue as I try to focus on the conversation swirling around me. It's no use. My thoughts keep drifting back to that cafe, to the electricity that seemed to crackle between us with every word, every glance.

I wonder what would have happened if Sylvie hadn't walked in when she did. If we'd had a few more minutes alone, a few more chances to let that spark catch fire.

We've been down this road before, and as much as I hate to admit it, there's a part of me still smarting from the last time, still nursing the wounds of a friendship that never quite blossomed into something more.

No, it's better to keep my distance. To enjoy the flirtation, the banter, but to not let it go any further than that.

And yet, as I drain the last of my wine and lose myself in the laughter and warmth of my family, I can't quite shake the feeling that fate might have other plans.

Something that could change everything.

I'll just have to wait and see, and pour myself another glass of wine while I'm at it.