Paige and her husband Brendan had three kids. Trevor would be four that summer, and the twins—Sarah and Molly—were almost a year and a half. Apparently when Paige had come down to Mirabelle all of those years ago, it had only been for her to find her feet again. She’d lost her job, her apartment, and her boyfriend. She’d had no choice but to head south to stay with her parents who’d retired in Mirabelle. Then she’d met Brendan and the rest was history.
Speaking of Brendan, he was Grace’s older brother. Grace had married Brendan’s best friend Jax. Or, more accurately, one of his best friends, as that title was taken by both Jax and Shep. Grace and Jax had a little girl, and apparently Rosie Mae was two and a half going on thirty.
Though Grace did need to go back to work, her working involved moving to the center island and whipping up a batch of lemon cookies. Brie ate four…and a double chocolate, coconut cupcake. Said cupcake had been the source of the mouthwatering smell in the café when Brie had walked in. It tasted even better than it had smelled…something she hadn’t thought was possible.
Grace and her grandmother, Lula Mae, were the ones who owned and ran the café. Though, Lula Mae wasn’t at the café that afternoon as she was taking a mini vacation and had gone on a cruise with her husband, Oliver King. Brie also found out that Oliver and Brendan owned their shop King’s Auto.
There were so many locally owned family businesses in the area. She found it refreshing and more than kind of amazing. It was no problem for her to sit there and appear interested because she was beyond fascinated with it. People learning a craft that had been passed down, some of them for generations.
It was after three when Brie finally left the café with a box of the double chocolate coconut cupcakes and a whole chicken potpie. She’d bought it before she left, knowing she’d want something hot and comforting for dinner. Not that she was even remotely hungry at the moment, but it was good to be prepared. And good food wasn’t the only thing she left with, either. She had new phone numbers programmed in her phone and the promise to go to a girls’ night the following Saturday that would include dinner and then drinks at the Sleepy Sheep.
Well, she’d be fulfilling her promise to Finn to come out to the bar and hang out with a group of people…and see him. The thing was that was more than a week away. She’d yet to go a single day without seeing him so far. She wondered how long those coincidences of fate were going to continue.
Or when one of them was going to have to take matters into their own hands.
As Brie headed to the Mirabelle Information Center, she felt light…recharged…happy. So happy that the snarling woman who’d worked with Bethelda didn’t affect her one little bit. Instead, Brie grabbed the pile of boxes (there were eleven) and loaded them into her car. As she was passing the post office on the way to the Piggly Wiggly, she figured she’d see if anything had been delivered there, too.
Four boxes had come in since she’d last visited the post office on Wednesday afternoon. That brought her grand total to fifteen for the day. If Brie hadn’t already thought it before, it was confirmed now. Bethelda had had an addiction for shopping, an addiction that hadn’t been maintained on the salary she’d made at her job. Nope, she funded this little habit with the money she’d made selling Harold and Petunia’s property after they died.
Harold had bought the three acres of oceanfront land for next to nothing back in the early fifties. When Bethelda had inherited it thirteen years ago, she’d sold it for a little over half a million dollars. It was a lot of money, and Bethelda had spent seventy-five percent of it. To be fair, Bethelda had in fact paid off her own house, but that only accounted for about a third of the money spent. The rest of it was now in all of the things she bought, filling up her house. The last thing that house needed was more stuff. Brie was going to need to put a stop to these packages coming.
So many things to do, so little time.
Brie pushed it to the back of her mind; she could worry about that later. Now she needed to focus on getting in and out of the store and crossing the staples she needed off the list. When she walked out of the Piggly Wiggly half an hour later, it felt like the temperature had dropped another ten degrees. That might’ve been because the sun was now completely blocked by the overcast skies, followed by the wind that was whipping around her.
Breath fogging up the air with every exhale, she quickly headed to her car and loaded up the few bags. The ride back was barely enough time for the heater to kick in, her exposed fingers only getting a moment to defrost before she was back at the bungalow.
And that warmth didn’t last very long at all, because when she walked in the front door she was greeted to a house that was only slightly warmer than it was outside.
OK, so maybe slight wasn’t the right word. It was thirty-two degrees outside while the house had slipped down to fifty-one. Brie looked at the thermostat—watching as it dropped yet another degree—checking that it was still set to sixty-five, and it was. Except there was absolutely no hot air blowing out of the vents and the unit wasn’t humming at all outside.
Her eyes darted to the clock above the stove: it was after five o’clock on a Friday. She wasn’t in any way hopeful of getting someone on the phone to come out there and look at the unit.
She was going to need to figure out those damn fireplaces. It was that or freeze her ass off. But after an hour of trying to figure it out—why yes, she did have a stubborn streak every once in a while—she gave up and pulled Finn’s number up on her phone.
* * *
Friday proved to be another long day for Finn as he’d had more first-of-the-year checkups. Though these horses hadn’t been on Whiskey Creek Farm and instead had been all over Mirabelle and the surrounding county. It was almost six when he and Frankie finally walked in the front door.
After feeding Frankie, Finn unloaded his pockets, setting his phone and wallet on the counter next to his keys. Then he headed directly for the shower. He needed to wash the barn smell and chill from his skin. He lingered under the hot spray for longer than usual, letting the water work over his back and hoping that some of the tightness in his muscles would wash away, too.
He headed downstairs twenty minutes later feeling a whole lot better. Well, except for the rumbling in his stomach as he was starving. He opened his refrigerator to find the exact same offerings as the day before. Why he thought it would be magically full, he’d never know. He’d meant to stop by the store on his way home…clearly that hadn’t happened.
“I guess it’s frozen pizza tonight,” he told Frankie as he pulled the box out of the freezer.
As he walked over to the stove his cell phone started ringing, vibrating against the counter where he’d left it earlier. He grabbed it, glancing down and seeing Brie’s name flashing across the screen.
And just that quickly he was grinning like an idiot. That day had been the first that he hadn’t seen Brie since she’d been in town. As the day had gone on, he’d definitely been aware of the absence.
He’d been exhausted just moments before, but as he slid his finger across the screen and put the phone to his ear, he suddenly got a second wind. “Hey. What’s going on?”
“Hi.” That one word came out slightly breathless, like she was nervous. “Are you busy?”
“Nope. About to make dinner.”
“Oh, well, I don’t want to bother you. I can let you go.”
“First of all, you are in no way bothering me.” He was starving and he’d rather talk to her than eat. “Second, it’s a frozen pizza, so it really doesn’t require that much brain capacity. What’s going on?” He repeated the question.
“So it would appear that the HVAC unit stopped working. The house has dropped to tundra temperatures and I can’t get the gas fireplaces to light. I was wondering what the odds were that you—or someone you know—know something about the latter? I don’t have high expectations about the former for the evening.”
“The odds are very high for the latter.”
&
nbsp; “In that case, I don’t know how high your hopes were set on that pizza.”
“Not very high.”
“Then I have a proposition for you. You help me with the fireplace and you can have some Café Lula chicken potpie.”
“Deal.” He grabbed the pizza box and walked back to the fridge to put it away.
“Well, that took a lot of arm twisting.”
“Brie, I would’ve come over to help without the prospect of food. Dinner is just icing on the cake. You mind if I bring Frankie?”
“Not at all. See you guys soon.”
“See you soon,” he agreed before he hung up.
He and his dog were out the door three minutes later. It was another five after that when he was ringing the doorbell to the bungalow, George Michael’s voice echoing on the other side of the door.
Brie was opening up for him before George even finished the first verse. She stood in the threshold wearing a knit beanie in UNC blue, an old gray sweatshirt that read “Talk Nerdy to Me” across the chest, black yoga pants that molded to her ass and hips, and fuzzy fox slippers on her feet.
He’d never met a woman who managed to pull off sexy and adorable to this level. It was impressive. He liked it a lot…he liked her a lot. That much was beyond clear, and fighting it had proven to be impossible.
“Hey.” The smile that turned up his mouth could not be helped, nor could the heat that settled low in his abdomen before moving up to his chest and out to his limbs. He was wearing jeans, a pullover fleece over his T-shirt, and a jacket. He was suddenly feeling the need to take off his jacket and pull at the collar of the fleece.
If that reaction was just at the sight of her, he was in for an interesting night.
“Hi.” She stepped back, making space for him and Frankie to come into the house. He gave her just enough room to close the door, stopping in front of her. The new position had her tilting her head back so she could look up into his face.
“Thank you for coming over.”
“No thank-you necessary.” He grinned, and before he could think twice about it, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Her skin was warm under his lips.
The unexpected move had clearly caught her off guard, and she took a startled breath. He wanted more than anything to push her back against the wall and capture her mouth. Taste her lips.
Instead he pulled back, taking a step away and giving them both space. It was the very last thing he wanted to do, but he knew if he kissed her, he wouldn’t want it to stop there. Not only did he come over there to figure out her heating situation, but he didn’t want to push her. She knew his offer, so he’d wait for her to accept…even if it killed him.
“I’m glad you called,” he said as he took another step back. “If you hadn’t we would’ve broken the streak.”
“What streak?” She shook her head slightly, like she was trying to focus.
“Of seeing each other every day. Also, I wouldn’t have gotten to see those rather fantastic slippers on your feet.”
“You like my foxes?”
“I do indeed.” He glanced down as she wiggled her feet in the slippers, making the foxes move.
“They were an impulse buy. Apparently I had a premonition I’d need them.”
“Apparently. Well, let’s get some heat in this place.”
Brie turned around and headed down the hallway. Finn couldn’t stop his eyes from moving down, getting a good look at her from behind. God bless yoga pants.
Frankie followed by his side, nose in the air, no doubt smelling Delores. But she didn’t leave him, and she wouldn’t until he gave her permission.
“So there is one in here,” she said as they walked into the living room. “And another that backs against it in there.” She pointed to a door a few feet away from the fireplace.
“There are two. Nice.” He pulled off his jacket, laying it down on the sofa. “That should keep you warm enough until you get the heater running again. You might need to sleep in one of these rooms, though, so you don’t get cold.”
“I already sleep in the den.” She moved through the space and to the door she’d just pointed to.
“You do?” He followed behind her just as she flipped on the light switch, illuminating the room.
“Well, I’m sure as hell not sleeping in Bethelda’s bed. Too weird.”
His eyes widened as he took in the space. Almost all of the walls were taken up with bookcases, and all of those bookcases filled with books and magazines. A sofa was pushed off to the side while an air mattress took up much of the floor space. It was covered in blankets, a big lump right in the middle.
“That’s Lo.” Brie pointed to the lump. “She hasn’t come out since I got home. Too cold for her out here.”
Frankie, who was still at Finn’s side, whined as she looked between the lump and Finn. “Do you mind if she goes near the bed?”
“Not at all.”
Finn barely nodded his head in that direction before she was off, leaning over the side and nudging the lump with her nose. Slowly, very slowly, the lump began to inch over through the covers until her nose poked out. It was then that Frankie’s big tongue darted out, licking the cat in greeting.
Or bathing her.
Frankie collapsed down on the rug next to the bed, and Delores was out and curling into the dog’s side a second later.
“Lo?” Finn turned to Brie, his eyebrows high at the new name she’d called the cat.
“Yes. I think it fits her better than Delores.”
“She respond to it?” He glanced back at the cat who was now barely visible as she was pretty much burrowing under Frankie’s warm body.
An amused expression took over Brie’s face as she glanced at the cat and dog, but she looked back to Finn before she answered. “About as much as she responded to Delores. But I’ve learned that she pretty much does what she wants, when she wants.”
“That sounds about right. But she’s getting used to you?”
“I think so,” she said, giving a slight shrug of the shoulders. “She sleeps next to me every night, but I feel like that’s more about staying warm than affection for me.”
“With cats you never know.”
Brie leaned her hip against the side of the sofa, her body faced to him. “I heard this story one time about this lady who had a pet python, and every night when she went to bed the python would stretch out next to her. She told her vet, thinking that the story about her snake wanting to be close to her was cute. The vet told her it was because the python was trying to figure out if it could eat her or not. Lo stretches out next to me every night.”
Finn grinned. “You think she wants to eat you?”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
“I think you’re safe, Brie.”
“Didn’t you just say that with cats you never know?”
A laugh burst from Finn’s mouth. “I did, but I still think you’re safe. Now I just need to get you warm.”
“Well, why you figure it out, I’m going to go put dinner in the oven. I don’t know what tools you need, but I found those in the laundry room.” She moved away from the sofa as she pointed to a red metal toolbox on the floor. “Also, feel free to take your boots off as you’re staying awhile.”
“Will do.”
“Shout if you need anything.”
Finn’s eyes stayed on her as she walked out of the room, his eyes automatically moving to her ass again, watching until she disappeared from view. It was only after she was out of his line of sight that he made himself focus, and he moved to the fireplace to figure out what he was working with.
But in his focusing, there was a thought that crossed his mind. He wondered if it wasn’t fate that had broken the heating system that night, guaranteeing he got to see her.
Chapter Fourteen
Cupcake Surcharges
Brie was screwed. So totally, beyond a doubt, screwed. From the second she’d opened that door it had taken everything in her to concentrate and no
t lose her mind. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run a towel through it after a shower and then hadn’t bothered after that. She wanted to reach up and run her fingers through it.
Shiiiiiiit.
She hadn’t even lasted three seconds after seeing him before she was already thinking about getting her hands on him. This boded well for her. Really well.
Not.
Then he’d gone and kissed her cheek. She’d felt that simple brush of his lips everywhere. If that hadn’t been enough to distract her, she’d gone and taken a deep breath, filling her lungs with his scent. A scent she couldn’t get out of her head. Clean. Fresh soap mixed with that potent scent of him. He’d totally just showered. All she’d wanted to do was move closer to him, wanted to press her face into his chest and breathe deep.
So yeah, it went without saying that she couldn’t exactly think straight.
Oh, who the hell cared? A properly working brain was entirely overrated. Luckily for her she’d already preheated the oven before Finn had gotten there. This had been partly in the hopes that warmth from the oven would get rid of the chill in the house. Too bad for her she had to set the timer now.
It took her three tries, but she managed in the end.
After that she went in search of a drink. She’d been pounding hot tea since she got home, but now she needed some alcohol.
There were a few clangs from the living room, and Brie leaned to the right to see Finn crouching down in front of the fireplace.
“You want a drink?” she called out.
“Sure. What do you have?”
“Well, there are a few hard liquor options, wine, and some of the Sleepy Sheep’s grapefruit IPA is in the fridge.”
Finn turned and looked over his shoulder. “When did you buy beer from the Sleepy Sheep?”
“I didn’t. Bethelda did.”
“Seriously?”
“It was here when I got here.”
“All right. That’s interesting, and a conversation for later, but I’m kinda in the mood for something not chilled. You have any red wine?”
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