Page 12 of Bear In A Boutique
“Yeah, I don’t want to do that again.”
A muscle worked in his jaw as he looked down at her. “You won’t.”
A moment ago, he’d been playfully sexy and now his tone was protective bodyguard, which, was even sexier. Unsure whether she should go or stay, she didn’t fill the silence as he twisted the cover on the new smoke detector and assessed his work.
“That was the day I met you.”
And out of all the men who helped that day, he was the one she’d noticed. The one who’d made her feel safe.
“How many people can say they met during a kidnapping?”
“Talk about a meet cute.”
She huffed in surprise. “A meet cute? I’m intrigued how you even know what that is.”
Well, well. Ryker Mitchell had more to him than it seemed.
“My mother binge-reads romance novels. If Fox or I were unfortunate enough to be around while she was reading, we got an earful of the entire story, minus the inappropriate bits, of course.” Affection colored his tone. It was a memory he loved. She’d met his mom Bunny once, briefly, when she’d come into the boutique to order a custom bracelet for her wedding. Even in that short amount of time, Olive could tell she was a warm, heartfelt person.
“You’d sneak her romances into your room at night and read the inappropriate bits under the covers with a flashlight, didn’t you?”
His eyes were on his work, but one corner of his mouth jumped. “Nah. I’d read them in my closet.”
She chuckled. His smile grew. And when they looked at each other, she swore his eyes lit up. Were they having another moment?
The bell on the front door jingled, followed by the billow of multiple female voices. Disappointed to end their banter, she looked over her shoulder to see who’d come in.
“Duty calls.” She smoothed her skirt and went out front.
Six gray-haired ladies dispersed through the store. One of them quickly asked Olive to help find a few small gifts for their friend who was in the hospital. She recognized the women from around town but couldn’t recall their names. They talked non-stop, interrupting each other, and asking Olive questions without giving her time to answer.
Ryker appeared from the back, opening a box as he walked to the fire detector near the front door. The women went quiet, and the sudden lack of noise was startling. He noticed and looked around the room.
A small woman shuffled over to him on white platform shoes. Her oversized green blazer had sequins on the lapels and shoulder pads that nearly swallowed her head. Red lipstick went off the rails in an imperfect circle around her lips and smudged in the corners of her mouth.
“Ryker Mitchell.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Kraft.”
Realization pinged Olive’s memory. Agnes Kraft, that’s right.
She pushed her chunky black glasses up as she looked at him. “Did you come to see this beautiful young woman?”
He held up the box. “I’m changing the smoke detectors.”
Agnes’ lips pressed into a line. “That’s not how you court a lady.”
One of Ryker’s brows hitched up. “What’s more important than the beautiful young woman’s safety?”
The women tittered. Olive’s heart jumped. Ryker went up the step stool to work on the next alarm. Who was this man? Where was the tight-lipped, serious, quiet, sexy, big-as-a-beast man from the festival?
“You owe her a date, you know!” Agnes followed him. “I heard you’re putting it off. Why are you putting it off?”
“People talk too much in this town.”
One of the other women looked up at Olive through thick, finger-print smudged lenses. “Did he ask you out yet?”
“Not yet,” Ryker barked annoyedly.
