by Taryn Quinn
“And a stuffed cat is going to be the answer?” I snorted.
“A kitty is always the answer.” Tabitha Monaghan blew a curl out of her face, giggling as she bumped into Gabby who fell into Gina, bumping me back a step.
Oh, this was going to be a cluster for sure.
A waiter buzzed along the edges of the pen of desperate women. I reached out for a cup and took a long drink. It was the only way I was getting through this.
My eyes watered. Holy spiked version of the punch.
“Oh, I need one.” Gina wiggled by and chased the guy, dragging him back to pass out drinks to all of us.
She clapped to Adam Lambert’s “Stranger You Are” and wiggled her little butt before bumping Gabby and Chloe, one of the servers at the café.
“How much of the punch did you get into?” I asked Tabitha.
“Not enough.” She took another off the tray. “Thank you!” She winked at the waiter and then it was bottoms up.
When in Rome. I lifted mine. “Sláinte.”
“That’s more like it.” Gina also tossed back her cup of dangerous orange punch.
The men were whooping it up from the other side of the room, Lucky being the instigator of the most noise. His suit really was something to behold.
“Okay. Here we go!” Macy held Gideon’s shoulder as she stood beside him. She handed him the bat.
He sighed and turned around. “All right, let’s do this.”
Macy whacked him. “Hurry up.”
Gideon dragged her down for another kiss. “Don’t rush me, woman.”
“I can if I want. Bride’s prerogative.”
Jealousy crawled up my throat as I reached for another one of the full cups of punch. The waiter just sighed and held out the tray for us all to take another.
Lucky was moving his hips in ways I hadn’t seen since Magic Mike. Wow.
Gideon threw the cat like a damn softball and hit Lucky square in the forehead. It bounced up and August immediately shot his hand up, catching it like a pop fly.
Oohhhs and ahhhs filled the room.
He met my gaze across the room and my cheeks flushed. I was hoping most people thought it was from the booze. Please, goddess.
“All right, enough! My turn.” Macy steadied herself on Gideon’s shoulder. He turned around and slung his arm around her hip.
“All right up there?”
“I’m good.” She licked her lips then turned her head, momentarily breaking whatever spell was between them.
My throat tightened. To have that kind of connection with anyone seemed so out of reach.
The music went up another few notches and Gina and Tabitha held their hands up. I tried to shuffle behind them. I didn’t want any part of cat-catching, thanks.
I sidestepped to the edge of the crush of single ladies and Chloe dragged me back. “Where are you going?”
“Here we go,” Macy shouted.
The black, gray, and white stuffed cat went flying. Gina snagged the tip of the paw and it bounced off Tabitha’s head and right into my waiting hands.
“Dammit.”
Gina grabbed me into a hug and twirled me around. “You’re next!”
“No way.”
“Yes way.” She pushed me out of the crowd of people and into August’s arms.
He slung an arm around my shoulder. “Helluva thing, huh?” He smiled down at me. The crinkles beside his crazy beautiful green eyes made the breath back up in my lungs.
“Crazy is one word for it.”
He curled me closer into his side. “Picture time.” He twisted the cat until it was upright and tucked it into the crook of my arm. His fingers brushed the side of my breast and I shivered.
“Killing me, Kin.”
I pasted a smile on my lips, then it turned into a real one when August made the bat kiss the kitten. He was such a sweet dork.
“Kiss her!” Lucky yelled from the back.
I didn’t know if I wanted to dropkick Lucky or thank him. Possibly both.
And then August lowered his mouth to mine. It was chaste compared to before, but it brought up every memory. Reminding me exactly what I had to walk away from.
I hugged the kitten closer and hoped my lurking wistfulness didn’t bleed into the photos. Then thankfully, August was dragged away by his sister for a dance.
Rylee and Kelsey cornered me to dance to a song by One Direction we all loved.
I laughed when I was supposed to and endured all the ribbing for catching the kitten. But the only thing I could focus on was escape.
Finally, I got to the door and took deep gulps of cool air.
Too much excitement, orange punch, and…well, just too much of everything was slamming into me. I wasn’t exactly in driving shape, but my shop was close. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d crashed on the couch.
I got to the sidewalk and thought I’d be home free.
Wrong.
“Leaving?”
I folded my arms around the kitten, but I didn’t turn around. I really wasn’t sure I could face him right now. “I’m beat.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is?”
I glanced over my shoulder. The bat was sticking out of August’s jeans pocket and his dark hair was disheveled around his angular face. I wanted nothing more than to fly right into his arms.
Why not set yourself up for more heartbreak, Kin?
I forced myself to take a step back. “Of course. I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep most of the night because I was finishing up Macy’s dress.”
“Right.” He took a step forward and I immediately took another one back. He stopped. “Let me take you home.”
I shook my head. “I’m just going to crash at the shop.”
“Kin, your locks are crap over there.”
“No, you put new ones on, remember?”
“They aren’t the kind to keep you safe.”
“If they can keep my shop safe, good enough for me.”
He jammed his hands into his hair. “Not really. Let me take you home. It’s not that far.”
Then he’d want to come in. And I wasn’t entirely sure I would say no. I shook my head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Kin, it’s not even midnight. You’re going to miss the ball drop.”
Well, that wasn’t unusual for me. A few times I’d been able to party with my friends, but there had been a lot of lonely New Year’s Eve’s in my life.
What was one more?
I booked it across the street before he could change my mind. Right now with a bridal kitten in my arms and memories of just how good he felt around me, I really didn’t have any strength to say no.
And that was dangerous as hell.
I turned at the door to my shop and took a look over my shoulder to see him watching me. Then I closed the door behind me, throwing both the deadbolt and the regular locks. The familiar scent of lemons and spice immediately put me at ease.
The shop was what mattered. That and making sure I didn’t screw things up with Ivy.
She was my family. The closest person to me in the world. She was the important thing. Not this weird connection with August Beck that couldn’t ever go anywhere.
Six
I’d given her long enough. At least I was pretty sure.
I twisted my Crescent Cove softball hat around backwards for the third time in an hour. Then again, the sun was bouncing off the snow like a damn spotlight to the eyeballs today. We’d gotten a good dumping the day before, and I’d spent the better part of my early morning plowing.
It was nice side money in a lake town because we surely didn’t lack for the white stuff.
Unfortunately, my pickup and I were loaned out for a lot of moving too. A nice couple had hired me to plow them out on moving day—bad idea in mid-January—but it had actually given me a reason to bug Kinleigh.
I smoothed my hand down the Art Deco-style sideboard. It needed a little Kin TLC, but it was exactly the kind of thing she loved. Usually, she
would drag me upstairs to help her refinish something like this. She was determined to show me the finer side of rehabbing furniture.
I was usually more interested in creating from scratch, but I had to admit this was a beautiful piece. The cutouts in the front needed a few sections replaced. I traced my thumb over the maze design. I could make an easy template to match that up.
Knowing Kin, she’d have some crazy material stretched behind it to give it…what did she call it? Visual interest. Everything about Kinleigh was visual interest.
She’d probably put some weird pattern behind it and sell it for seven hundred dollars on her website.
Whatever she did would be amazing, but my goal was to actually see her and not watch her perfect backside escaping up the stairs before I could get out of my shop to talk to her. Not that I minded the view, but she was driving me crazy.
Ever since I’d gotten my hands on her New Year’s Eve, I couldn’t get my mind off her. The sounds she made, the way she kissed, even the way she dug her heeled boots into my ass. I wanted all of it again. And fucking again.
I raked my fingers through my hair then shoved my hat back on my head. Enough stalling.
I grabbed the smaller sack of goodies I’d gotten from the moving couple. Evidently, they liked Art Deco everything. And I knew that was Kinleigh’s catnip.
I tucked a larger box under my arm. I’d landed a few cool switch plate covers and three pendant lights that she’d love.
“Pathetic,” I muttered to myself. But I headed up the stairs to her shop anyway.
She’d added new photos to the stairwell. That was Kin—forever finding ways to sell stuff. Tiny price tag stickers in matching designs were artfully tucked in the corners. Obvious but not intrusive to those who wanted to just enjoy her style.
I knew plenty of people took day trips into Crescent Cove to look around our endless little shops, mine included. A lot of us store owners—at least the younger owners who were determined to make our shops successful—did most of our sales online. We had plenty of foot traffic in the summer months, thanks to the lake and the vacation cabins dotted all around Crescent Cove. But the winter was a little rougher. Especially now that Christmas was over.
At least I had enough special orders to keep me busy until April, thank God.
The closer I got to her door at the top of the stairs, the louder her music became. Evidently, it was a grunge rock kind of day. Gavin Rossdale and the heavy guitars of Bush met me when I opened the door. As usual, the spicy lemon scent of whatever it was Kinleigh always had in her various diffusers was the first thing I noticed.
The bell over the door tinkled and Kinleigh’s voice came from the back.
“Feel free to look around. I’m back here if you need anything.”
The shop had been mostly de-Christmassed though there always seemed to be an abundance of twinkle lights wrapped around dress forms, furniture, or shelves. Her Christmas tree had been stripped of all the interesting ornaments she always seemed to have.
Instead, they were artfully arranged on a table beside the tree with a chalkboard sign stating they were at a reduced price. Now the tree was full of pink, red, and white Valentine’s Day type items.
I shook my head. Only Kinleigh would make a Valentine’s tree.
I spotted a sweet little harp that would be a good gift for my mom though. Shifting the box to my other hip, I set the bag down as I plucked two more things off. One for Ivy and Rhiannon.
Shopping done.
Add some flowers and I’d be a hero for about three minutes. Then again, that was all it took some days to make the women in my life happy.
Except the one I wanted more and more as the days went by.
I tucked the fluffy baby rattle attached to a flamingo, the dainty harp, and the sparkly ice cream cone into the crook of my arm.
Then nearly lost it all when Patches tried to trip me.
“Really?”
The cat purred and wound her way around my ankles. She sat and curled her tail around her feet, the white tipped end twitching.
I set everything down on the huge old table Kinleigh used for her checkout station. I’d been about to bend down to give Patches a little loving when she sashayed her way under a table. Unshockingly, another female in this building had decided I wasn’t worth their time.
I headed to the second level of her store. It was the pointed part of the place that had given her spot the name Kinleigh’s Attic.
The beams were decked out in fairy lights—I knew since I’d helped her and Ivy staple them up there when she opened a few years ago. Back then, all the little chores I’d been dragged into from my sister had seemed more like a pain in the ass than anything else.
But looking at it now with fresh eyes, thanks to Kinleigh blasting into my brain with that kiss back in October… Yeah, everything seemed even more important. My stamp had been all over her life for years and I’d never opened my damn eyes to it.
The closer I got to the woman herself, the more disorganization I encountered. Things were always a little chaotic when it came to Kinleigh’s place. At least compared to my orderly space downstairs. She had doodads and bright colored trinkets tucked into corners, on tables, and stacked on shelves. Mysterious racks of clothing were arranged all over the place.
Her filming lights were up, and her tripod stood off to the side. The box lights gave off a diffused glow. Right now, they flanked a pair of jeans hanging by painted clothespins across a wire. Half a dozen pairs were draped over as many chairs.
And in the middle on the floor, Kinleigh was surrounded by threads in every color of the rainbow. Swatches of fabric stuck out of a quilted bag that reminded me of something my grandmother had in her craft room. An array of patterns made my eyes hurt. Some neon, some floral, and still others that were probably older than both of us put together.
She was sitting in the center of it all, patiently stitching some design into the back pocket of the shredded pair of jeans. Each former hole in the denim had a scrap of colorful fabric patched with amazingly detailed stitches.
Her hair was gathered on top of her head with a bandana trapping her curls away from her face, save for one stubborn lock that floated forward to catch the light streaming in from the hexagon window. She hadn’t bothered with makeup—or, more likely, she’d been working all through the night and day.
Kinleigh on a creative tear always put a hum in the air.
“Hey.”
She jolted and hissed, bringing her finger up to her mouth. Her huge blue eyes darted to mine, and then down again. “Ouch.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t. Well, you did, but the needle…” She shrugged then set the jeans she was working on aside. “What are you doing here?”
I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “Had something you might be interested in.”
“Oh. For the shop?”
“Yeah. Want to check it out? It’s in the truck.”
She pressed her lips together. “I’m kinda…” She fluttered her hands to encompass the chaos. “Can it wait?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Disappointment slapped hard.
“I’m just kinda in the zone, you know?”
“Yeah, totally get it. How many times have I done an all-nighter?”
“Right?” She gave me a half smile and blew the curl out of her face.
The phone rang and she popped up. She was wearing a pair of the artfully stitched jeans. This one was bright pink thread on dark washed denim. A matching bright pink tank peeked from underneath the oversized dark sweater she was wearing.
I wanted to step forward and kiss the slash of skin showing.
But that definitely wasn’t happening. Not when she practically sprinted to get to the phone when just a second earlier, she’d practically told me to buzz off.
“Stupid,” I muttered to myself. The call was business, but still, it felt as if she didn’t want to be in the same space with me.
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I shifted to see her at the ancient avocado-green wall phone. The cord was stretched to the limit as she ducked in the back.
Private conversation?
“You are seriously losing it over this chick.” I twisted my hat around. “And talking to yourself.”
I backed up. My big boots would probably crush something up there if I got any closer anyway. Her low voice floated out of the back storeroom. Seemed like a customer call.
I sighed and took the box with the large pendant lights to a rare naked corner in her place. I’d outfitted the ceiling with various hooks for just this kind of thing. I pulled the little stepladder out from behind a heavy curtain. She’d wanted to soften the brick and cut down on some of the echo of the large room.
Yet another thing I’d helped her with. Just how blind had I been about this woman?
I pulled my multi-tool out of my pocket and quickly hung the lights. I’d already checked the guts of the unit to make sure the lightbulb wouldn’t start a damn fire. Just what this place needed, another fire hazard.
The brass patterned box around it was pretty cool, all things considered. Maybe she’d notice it.
I stepped down and tucked the ladder back on its hidden hook. Kin was still in the back. Today was definitely not my day—again.
Just as I got to the door, I noticed her peeking around.
Looking for a customer? Or to see if I’d left?
I slammed the door behind me and headed back down to my shop where shit still made sense.
Three days later, I was staring at the Art Deco console in the corner of my shop again. Part of me wanted to do the rehab on it and then bring it up, the other half wanted to see Kinleigh’s reaction first. She got such a kick out of old, broken pieces that she could make new again.
My heart kicked under my ribs. That side of her used to annoy me.
“Think it’s going to talk or something? Does the wood do that for you?” Jared whispered out of the side of his mouth.
I couldn’t fight back my grin. “Where’d you come from?”
“St. Marie’s Ave.”
“Smart ass.” I straightened and tossed my rag at his stupid large brimmed hat.