Page 14 of Unearthed Dreams
Mrs. Henderson’s bangles jingled as she waved off my response. “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind, dear. Your mother says you’re still figuring things out after graduation.”
Still figuring things out? More like trying to figure out how to tell everyone I’m a writer without hearing ‘but what’s your real job going to be?’
The bell above the door chimed, stealing both our attention as Mr. Henderson met his wife on the sidewalk. “Here. You forgot your cronut.”
My stomach did a funny little flip watching Mr. and Mrs. Henderson share a quick peck. Even after fifty years of marriage, they still looked at each other like teenagers stealing kissesbehind the bleachers. Love like that made my writer’s heart swoon.
“Ms. Everton,” Mr. Henderson said by way of greeting.
In addition to owning the only grocery store within a twenty-mile radius, they also ran the farm that sat on the property just across the major country road that split Sable Point in half. On one side, there was Ever Eden Orchard. On the other side, there was the Henderson farm. At the end of the road had once been Vintage Point Vineyards—now defunct, thanks to the Belmonte scandal. Together, our three families made up the economic triangle of Sable Point, and I worried what Tessa’s father’s shady dealings might still unravel.
“We’ve got an opening over at the stor?—”
Mrs. Henderson swatted her husband in the chest.
“I already asked her. Give the girl some space.”
The lines around Mr. Henderson’s eyes deepened as he frowned.
“Christ, alright.”
My backpack strap dug into my shoulder as I shifted my weight, desperate for an escape. The Hendersons meant well—everyone in Sable Point meant well—but if one more person asked about my post-graduation plans, I might scream. Or cry. Or both.
“I’m going to grab a coffee,” I said, hoping to break free from this sweet but repetitive conversation. . “I’ll see you both later.”
I waved over my shoulder and stepped into the coffee shop, hoping for a quiet corner to hunker down and edit, but the moment I crossed the threshold, I knew I’d made a mistake.
The espresso machine hissed, steaming milk for a latte. Someone near the counter let out a loud, hacking laugh, thekind that made my shoulders tighten. Near the window, a pair of old men debated the weather with the intensity of meteorologists, their words punctuated by the occasional slap of a newspaper against the table. Behind me, a toddler banged a plastic spoon against his high chair like a tiny, sugar-fueled drummer.
I sighed, gripping the straps of my backpack tighter. Peace, quiet, the ability to hear my own thoughts—apparently, those things didn’t exist here, either.
I ordered my iced latte to go and set off for stop number two: Books and Crannies. Unfortunately, it meant walking past Callaghan’s bar and now I was sweating again, but it wasn’t from the heat. In an attempt to put distance between myself and the older man plaguing my inexperienced thoughts, I crossed the street at the next crosswalk, eyes darting back to the side I’d come from as I passed the bar. It was still dark inside, the neon Open sign flicked off.
My traitorous mind wondered if he was up in that apartment above, maybe fresh from the shower...
Stop it, Charlie.
But there was just something about him—the way his white hair caught the light, how his shoulders filled out his t-shirt, the little smirk he wore when he called me ‘pretty girl.’
God, what was wrong with me? He was old enough to be... well, my brother. And yet here I was, crossing the street like a coward because I couldn’t trust myself to walk past his bar without turning into a complete mess. Tessa would probably say something about age being just a number, but she had also fake-married my brother, so her judgment was questionable at best.
I picked up my pace, desperate to escape these unwanted thoughts. The familiar storefronts of Main Street blurred past, my focus turned inward instead of watching the busy sidewalk ahead.
I slammed straight into a solid mass of muscle. A masculine grunt echoed my startled yelp as I stumbled backward, my backpack swinging wildly. Strong hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me before I could fall on my butt in the middle of the street and spill my precious nectar of the gods.
Shoot! I’d been so lost in my head I’d literally walked right into someone.
Nope.Not just someone.
Kai Callaghan.
Chapter Six
KAI
“Hey, pretty girl.”
I gripped Charlie’s sun-warmed shoulders, my big hands—probably cold from the air conditioning blasting in the grocery store—engulfing her small frame. She was a tiny fucking thing—except for her full tits, hips a man could grab and hold on to, and thick thighs that led to a round ass.
