by Jemi Fraser
The thought of going inside and trying one on had her nerves singing. But the blue dress was pretty. It wouldn’t hurt to try it.
Mrs. Hammond stopped beside her. “Hello, Darby. Are you shopping as well? I like that blue dress. I think I might just have to buy it.”
Darby looked between Mrs. Hammond and the dress. Apparently her taste really was octogenarian chic.
Before she could answer, her phone’s timer beeped, reminding her of her lunch with Myla.
“I need to head out. Enjoy your dress, Mrs. Hammond.”
Darby had planned on having time to change before she met Myla for lunch but she’s spent too much time deciding on mascara.
It was starting to spatter rain again so she pulled up the hood of Sawyer’s sweatshirt and added a jacket to her mental shopping list.
She was going to be broke.
As she walked the few blocks to Fortini’s she checked out her reflection in the windows.
Not good. Not even a little bit good.
She could easily pass for a teen boy who dressed in sloppy clothes. Hard to believe she hadn’t noticed how bad it was.
Made her want to punch Philip in the gut.
Good idea. For every step forward she made at completing her list, she let herself imagine punching him. Or kicking him in the groin.
The drizzle was getting heavier and she hurried past CharterGear. The hammering told her work was progressing and she was glad Quinn had devoted the morning to his own store.
He’d offered to tackle her Reno List while she was out but the next item was toilet replacements and she hadn’t been able to foist it off on him.
Scents of all things Italian greeted her a few stores before she reached Fortini’s. Nothing on earth smelled as good as Antonia’s cooking.
Her husband Mario met Darby at the door and reached up to kiss her on both cheeks. “So glad to see you, my dear. How are the renovations going?”
No secrets in Bloo Moose.
Well, hardly any.
“They’re going well.” But they’d be going even better if she could stop acting like a wimp around Quinn. Not that she planned to mention that to Mario King-Of-Gossip Fortini.
The door opened behind them and Myla walked in with a smile and looking like sunshine.
Mario greeted Myla with cheek kisses then kept her hands in his as he stepped back to take her in. “You’re as lovely as the best days of spring. That color does wonderful things for your eyes. I bet your man can’t resist you when you smile at him, can he?”
Even with her dusky skin, it was easy to see Myla’s cheeks flush as her eyes sparkled with delight. Darby bit back a sigh and battled down her envy. No one had ever greeted her that way. No one had ever told her she was lovely or compared her to spring.
With good reason. She was more like a dark and cold winter dusk.
Oblivious to her thoughts Mario led them to a table with a view of the boardwalk and the lake beyond.
Seated across from her friend, Darby felt like an Amazon. An ugly one. “I need help, Myla.” The words blurted out as soon as Mario stepped away from the table.
Myla’s eyes widened and she reached forward to grip Darby’s hand. “Whatever you need. What’s wrong? Does Sawyer know?”
That made Darby laugh. Sawyer was the last one she would tell. “Sorry, it’s nothing scary. Well, not like you’re thinking. I’m being dramatic.” But her voice was shaking.
Relief flooded Myla’s face but she continued to study her friend. “I’m glad you’re okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Mario appeared with two glasses of wine and a plate of antipasto. They chatted for a few minutes, giving Darby time to settle her nerves and decide what she was going to say. Originally, she’d thought having lunch with Myla would be enough of a step but it wasn’t. She needed help. Her shopping attempt had proven that. Myla was her best chance to change her look and herself along with it.
When Mario moved away, Myla smiled. “So? Spill.”
“I wear the same sweaters as the Nosy Trinity, looking at lipstick shades online sent me into fits of panic and Sawyer’s clothes are the sexiest things I own.”
Myla blinked at her for a few seconds then clamped her lips together and looked down at the table. When she looked up again, she gave in to the laughter. It burst of her even as she covered her mouth with her hands and tried to keep it down.
Ten seconds in, Darby couldn’t help laughing along with her. Nearby diners turned to watch them and it made the two laugh even harder. When Mario popped over to check on them, they managed to muffle the giggles a little. Wiping her eyes, Myla finally took a deep breath. “Sorry. That was so unexpected. I hadn’t gotten over the fright of thinking you were ill or in serious trouble. Or something. Never once considered it might be a sweater crisis.”
Darby managed a smile back but she knew it was wobbly. “It started with a sweater but it got worse. The Nosy Trinity complimented me on my sweater and my sensible shoes. Then they started in with fashion and makeup advice.” Myla was grinning widely and for the first time, Darby was able to see a glimmer of humor in her situation. “The worst part was when I finally looked in a mirror and then my closet, I realized they were right.”
That sent Myla laughing again but she controlled it much more quickly and reached for Darby’s hand. “Honey, you’re gorgeous and nothing you wear or put on your face can change that. You’ve got the best cheekbones I’ve ever seen and those eyes of yours send men panting after you. You just haven’t noticed.”
Hardly.
Her expression must have matched her thoughts because Myla turned serious. “I’m not kidding, Darby. You are beautiful.” She pointed at Sawyer’s hoody. “But I agree it’s time for a wardrobe upgrade.”
Darby sat back and sighed. “I don’t know how to shop anymore. I can’t even remember the last time I bought something to wear. I wear Sawyer’s hand-me-downs and I almost had a breakdown searching online for lipstick. How do you do it?”
Myla looked down at her outfit. Jeans and a light sweater. Same items Darby wore but the difference was staggering. Not only did Myla’s fit, the colors and shapes enhanced everything about her. Mario was right.
Myla shrugged. “I don’t really think much when I shop, I just buy what makes me smile.” She poked her foot out from under the table to show off her neon green sneakers with pink and white striped laces. “These reminded me of Freddy so I had to have them.” It took Darby a few seconds to realize Myla was talking about her car. A neon green Prius she’d named Freddy.
“So, how do I know what I like? Every time I do a search on the computer, I break out into a sweat.”
Myla waved away her words. “You can’t buy clothes online until you know what you like, what sizes and styles fit. Nope. There’s only one thing to do. Road trip.”
The words struck terror into Darby’s heart.
Looking Fine
Quinn wandered the B&B searching for something to do. Darby had disappeared for the day to go shopping with Myla.
Shopping.
Everyone in Bloo Moose knew Darby spent every last minute of her annual two-week vacation fixing up her B&B. She barely slept during that time because she always had so many plans.
This year, she’d blown off half of yesterday with lunch out with Myla. Today, she was shopping.
She was avoiding him. Instead of helping her, he’d thrown her off her stride by moving in. He had to pay her back somehow and working on her list seemed the best way.
Darby had told him to take the day off, relax. He couldn’t. Rayce had a couple of guys working at CharterGear working on the framing and the roof. Quinn had only been in the way there. Now he was back at the B&B and prowling.
He knew Darby wanted to paint the sitting room and a few of the bedrooms but she hadn’t chosen colors. Not that some of the ones she’d narrowed down to were actually colors. Maybe he should go ahead and choose, his last choice had been a hit. She tried to hide it but she smiled every
time she walked into the room.
Seemed presumptuous to go that way, though. Quinn needed the list.
In her notebook.
The one with her secrets hiding inside.
Back in the kitchen, he paced around the island, looking at the drawer on every pass. It wouldn’t be snooping. Not really. He wasn’t trying to do anything other than help her. He would only look at her renovations. If the book was even there, she might have moved it to her room and he wasn’t crossing that line. But if it was there, well, maybe she wouldn’t mind.
The white cat followed him every step of the way, winding in and out of his feet as if trying to trip him up. “Don’t need any help in that department, Mallow. I’m tripping myself up plenty.”
Stopping in front of the drawer, he stared at it, willed it to open and toss out the book. Didn’t happen. He looked down at the cat but there was no help coming from that direction either.
Finally, he yanked open the drawer to find the little red book staring up at him, daring him to open it.
He’d only look at her list. He wouldn’t peek.
Surely, her list would be on the first page.
Taking a deep breath, Quinn glanced back at the door as he flipped open the cover. No one entered the kitchen to catch him. Mallow stared up at him as if to tell him to get on with it.
Fine. Looking down, he saw a bulleted list. Perfect.
Except his eyes were drawn to the word sexy.
As in sexy lingerie.
Shit.
He flicked the cover of the book closed and stared at it. Sexy lingerie. Like he’d seen on her laptop. The little black set he’d teased her about.
The lace he’d been imagining her wearing ever since.
The lace he wanted to strip off her.
With his teeth.
Quinn opened the drawer to put the notebook away but closed it again before he did. He still hadn’t found her renovation list. And he wanted—needed—to see what the hell the other list was about.
Sexy lingerie.
“You’re a guy, Mallow. Although I’m sorry you got labeled with the whole Marshmallow thing. Hard to be a tough guy with that handle. I can’t ignore a list with sexy lingerie on it, can I?”
He could and he should.
But his willpower didn’t stand a chance.
With another look at the door, Quinn reopened the book. Top page was the Reno List. The list he’d told himself he wanted to check out.
Ignoring the home repairs, Quinn checked the door again, even though he knew it would be hours before Darby returned home.
Flip.
Risk List.
With sexy lingerie at number five.
Starting at the top, Quinn found himself smiling as he read. Darby was planning on making some changes. Fun ones. Hair and makeup. Clothes. He wanted to cheer her on. She’d already checked off the fourth one by having lunch with Myla yesterday. A smiley face beside her neat checkmark made him grin.
His smile dropped as he moved past the lingerie. Flirting. Kissing. Having a fling. Playing with food. With a stranger.
Those two had been scribbled out but he found himself pissed off as he thought about it. She was playing with fire. Dangerous fire. What if she changed her mind and went ahead with those items? What if some guy misinterpreted her flirting and made his own decisions about what new risks she should be taking.
The final item helped him simmer down a bit. Learn how to have fun. What the hell was that about? Darby was always happy. At least, she appeared to be. She smiled and chatted with everyone. Why wasn’t she happy? Why didn’t she know how to have fun? And why did she want to learn at the hands of a stranger?
The answers had to be connected to the shadows he saw in her eyes when she thought no one was looking. What the hell had happened to her?
Quinn read the list again, swearing at the thought of Darby finding a random stranger to take these risks with. Hell, he was right here. And interested. If she wanted to learn to flirt and kiss and play with whipped cream, what was wrong with him?
Strangers weren’t safe. Especially if she was looking for what she considered a hot one. Probably some cocky ass so sure of himself, he wouldn’t realize she wasn’t experienced in that kind of thing. Unless she was.
No, no way.
He’d known her for years and unless she’d been getting it on with her guests, she didn’t have much of a social life.
Maybe that’s what she and Myla were really doing today. Not shopping and getting their nails done but trolling for men. Myla wouldn’t be looking but she might be helping. Giving pointers. Helping Darby practice.
Hell.
Quinn considered hopping in his truck and tracking them down but managed to squash the urge. They’d said they were heading to Burlington but that could have been a misdirection. They didn’t have plans to stay overnight so how bad could it be? It wasn’t like Darby was going to approach some random guy on the street and end up in his hotel room. Although, it could be exactly like that.
He heard his teeth grind so he forcibly relaxed his jaw. This was Darby. She wasn’t going to be that impulsive or reckless during a couple of hours of shopping. She’d probably start with the lower numbers on the list.
No kissing.
No flinging.
No chocolate sauce.
Quinn paced the kitchen again, stopping each lap to consider the list and talk with Mallow, who wasn’t all that helpful.
It would be up to Quinn to keep her safe.
He should have followed through on the almost-kiss in the bedroom the other day but she’d been too nervous. Too stressed. When had she made the list? Had she been thinking of it then? Had she been hoping he’d kiss her? To check off an item on a list?
It might not even matter to her who helped her out, as long as she checked off items on the list. Maybe any random man would do.
Except him.
There was no mistaking the times she’d backed away from him, even after her body had leaned in and her pulse had hammered.
The woman was sending more mixed signals than a drunken flagman on a racetrack.
Quinn stopped and flipped the notebook back to the first page. The Reno List. He’d knock a couple of times off that list. Pay her back for letting him stay here. He’d take the ugly jobs. The solo jobs. Arrange it so they’d have to work together when she came back.
She wanted to learn how to flirt? Practice kissing? He had a whole day to figure out how to make that happen. With him, not with some stranger she considered hot. No way in hell.
If she wanted a fling then he was sure as hell going to make that happen, too.
And he knew a perfect way to get her attention.
AFTER her shower, Darby finger-combed her hair like the stylist had shown her. It had seemed like half her hair had been left on the salon floor and looking in the mirror freaked her out a bit. No more ponytail. Layers and bounce. Well, maybe.
Grabbing her new brush and blow dryer, Darby studied the reflection in the mirror before trying to copy the stylist’s action. Not as easy as it looked. Not nearly.
Ten minutes later, she put the weapons down on the dresser and ran her fingers through her hair again barely controlling the tremble in her fingers. Not bad. Not what the stylist had done but not bad. When she shook her head, the hair bopped around then settled back into place. Bangs brushed her forehead and the sides touched her cheeks when she moved.
Different.
Good different.
Probably.
Darby tried to gather up the hair into a tail but with the layers, most of it fell right back out, again. A second and third try yielded the same result. No ponytail. She’d have to face the world with the new do.
What would people say? Would they even notice? If she’d faded away as much as she suspected they might not. And that would be worse than people commenting.
There were still ways to hide the changes. She didn’t have to wear any of the new clothes.
She’d
snuck in as quietly as possible the night before in order to avoid being spotted by Quinn. Would he notice the new hair? Would he approve?
It didn’t matter. The Risk List wasn’t about him. Or any man. It was about Darby taking her life back from Philip. About building some confidence and getting back into the real world instead of the insulated cocoon she’d created.
Quinn would be her test. His reaction would give her some practice.
Forcing herself not to chicken out, Darby moved to the baskets of the new clothes she’d laundered the night before.
Jeans and a blue t-shirt. Something she’d worn many times before. Only now, the items fit. As she wriggled into her jeans, her soft pink toenails made her smile. At the time, the mani-pedi had made her feel almost naked with her hands and feet soaking in little tubs of soapy water.
Her new makeup bag sat on the counter and Darby took a deep breath and spread the contents on the dresser. Apparently, a daytime look only required a few items and a few minutes. Right.
With only one stab to the eye, she managed the eyeliner, mascara and some tinted lip gloss.
Time to check out the full-length mirror to see the entire effect. It took longer than it should have to cross to the mirror then lift her eyes to see herself.
Darby’s mouth dropped open as she stared.
And stared.
There was nothing fancy about her. Nothing that shouted sexy. But it was good.
She hadn’t looked this good in a long time. Maybe ever.
Unable to contain herself Darby did a little bootie dance and laughed out loud. She looked like a normal twenty-eight-year-old woman. Normal.
She blinked away the tears. No crying over being normal.
Darby was tempted to take her first-ever selfie and send pictures to the Nosy Trinity to get their opinions. Would they approve or think she looked like a tart? As she turned and kept her eyes on the mirror, she thought they’d approve. It might not be a skirt but it was miles and miles better than Sawyer’s hoodies.
Okay. Time to face the real world.
Quinn.
He was probably working on something downstairs. Unless he’d gone to his shop. She wouldn’t blame him if he bailed on her. She’d taken off the better part of two days and it was her own project they were supposed to completing.