Only You by Denise Grover Swank

out to be as nice as he was sexy—a deadly combination if she was determined to stay on the celibate route. But she reminded herself that she had far more pressing issues—like keeping her job.
    She’d considered calling Nicole to fill her in on her conversation with Miranda Johansen last night, but she’d thought the news was probably better delivered in person. In the end, Holly decided to put it off until the next day. But now it was the next day and there was no way around it.
    So she’d stopped and picked up muffins from the bakery, Nicole’s favorite—lemon poppy seed—and arrived at work fifteen minutes early, in plenty of time to start a pot of hazelnut coffee. She returned to her desk and checked her e-mail, her thoughts drifting to her run-in with her next-door neighbor last night.
    After he’d gone back home and she had spent the rest of the evening obsessing over every little thing he’d said and did. Just like a stupid middle-school girl.
    What had happened to her?
    But in the light of day, she’d decided this was all Melanie and their grandmother’s fault. Holly never would have noticed him if they hadn’t planted the seeds in her head. But there was something about him that made her want to see him again. If she did, would that be so bad?
    She sent Melanie a text before she changed her mind.
    I want to bring our new neighbor dinner tonight. Can you make something?
    It was only nine o’clock, so Holly didn’t expect an answer for at least another hour or so. She definitely didn’t expect Melanie to text back immediately.
    YES!
    Holly’s phone rang seconds later. “You must have changed your mind if you want to bring him dinner.”
    “Maybe? I don’t know. He brought back your dish and seemed nice enough.” She decided to spare her pride and keep getting locked out to herself. “By bringing him dinner, I can snoop a bit. I’m curious about his house.”
    “His house?” She snorted. “Snooping is more my forte than yours.”
    Holly laughed. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
    “One can only hope, but I doubt it. You like him. There’s no reason to be ashamed of it.”
    “Okay, maybe I am a tiny bit interested. …”
    “I knew it! Don’t worry. I’ll make him something good. Something to warm him up. Something to get his engine going.”
    Holly laughed even as a blush rose to her cheeks. “Slow down, there. Instead of making something high-octane, maybe stick to something cool. I’m pretty sure that house is still un-air-conditioned.”
    “Good thinking.”
    Holly hung up, and moments later her boss walked through the door.
    “How was your evening?” Holly asked, looking up from her computer.
    “It was interesting.” Nicole sat in her chair and put her purse into the bottom desk drawer, not bothering to look at her.
    This wasn’t a good sign. “Was the Henry party as bad as you thought it would be? Were you right about them using frozen appetizers?”
    Nicole bit her lower lip, hesitating for several seconds, and it was clear she was fighting the urge to spill the details. Her love of gossip won out and she spun around to face Holly. “It was beyond tacky.”
    “Did they really have a mariachi band?”
    “Yes! Can you believe it?” Nicole’s face lit up as she told Holly all about the party, describing how the organizers got it all wrong.
    Holly let her talk for several moments, dreading breaking the news about the Johansen wedding to her boss. This was the Nicole who had hired her—the friendly woman who had promised to teach her the ropes, but who had become progressively standoffish the more Holly learned and grew. When Nicole had finished her story, Holly said in a cheery voice, “I brought you a surprise.”
    “Oh?” Nicole looked genuinely shocked.
    “I’ll be right back.” Holly disappeared into the back and returned with a small tray that held a cup of coffee prepared the way Nicole liked it—one tablespoon of hazelnut creamer—and a small plate