Page 27 of South of The Skyway

“What do you mean?” Rhyett asked with mock innocence. “I love this stuff.”

“Hey, Brex?”Saved by the barista. I twisted in my seat to find Wrenly with her phone squeezed between her ear and shoulder, eyes expectant as she juggled a plate in one hand—a second wedged against her forearm—and the coffee carafe in the other. “There’s someone on the phone for you.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I gotta get back to it.”

I startled when Rhyett stood as I did, swallowing as he extended a hand. It was a mistake to accept it. I knew it before our skin connected like a freaking jumper cable, sending energy up my bones and tingling down to the base of my spine. His scent was warm and clean and somehow distinctly…male. It was overwhelming, and I snapped my mouth shut for fear of salivating over him. Too many synapses fired simultaneously. Calloused and warm, his palm encompassed mine entirely, and no sane woman could feel the subtle give of his skin and not remember what he’d felt like wrapped around a breast, a hip, squeezing my—

Clearing my throat, I did my best impression of a smile, working to extricate my limb while frantically digging through the useless compilations of files in my brain where somewhere, in the very depths of the chaos, I would locate instructions on how the fuck toinhale. It wasn’t until he’d released me, putting space back between our bodies, that intoxicating scent no longer wrapped around my windpipe, that air worked its way into my lungs. Vaguely, I recognized Wren had said my name again in an apologetic plea.

“See you around, Ace.”

TWELVE

RHYETT

Appointments canceled, honorary coffee forced down, tea cooling, I fired off my dozenth email of the day. It was a cruel game, trying to focus with Brexley buzzing about like a busy little bee. She was in her element here. Checking on tables, helping patrons find books, and restocking supplies. Royal was in her element, too, happily sprawled below my table where I could rub along her ribs with a shin from time to time. But Brexley…

Fuck. I’d known she’d bewitched me in that bar, but this was ridiculous. KaiL Baxley’s soulful sound filled the space with “Boy Got It Bad”, and I blew out a long breath. Forcing my eyes away from the blonde that soaked the air out of the building, I ran through some numbers for the Alaska businesses, approved a handful of change orders on the house, and sent an update to Milo and Juniper.

My parents were…I wanted to say lucky, but perhapsblessedwas the appropriate term. They had that one-in-a-million kind of love story. High school sweethearts that survived hell and high water in pursuit of a dream life for their family. Jeanne had surprised them with a wedding night present when they were only nineteen. The two of us were Irish twins, making them exhausted parents to two under one by the following Christmas.

But they’d freaking made it. Against all odds, in the harshest conditions, spending more time separated by sea than united, they’d clung to each other like a life raft. Maybe that’s why so many of us were so stubbornly single. We’d set impossible standards, their priceless love story set the bar by which we judged everyone.

Jameson and I had decided that nobody ever could live up to it. So the fact that one night in a grungy bar bathroom had me staring after a twenty-something businesswoman wearing stylish little shorts, a too-tight crop top, and a black blazer, more accessory than attire, was enough to send my stomach down a rollercoaster. What in the hell was in the water down here? Could brackish water actually strip a man of common sense?

Now and then, fate gives you a wire to follow—as likely to trip you as guide you if you ignored it—and everything about Brexley Snows felt like a wire. She’d brushed off my invitation, but I couldn’t help but think I should keep tugging back. I shut my laptop and slid it into the messenger bag, startling Royal with the movement. She jerked upright, one ear flopping backwards as she cocked her head—a silent demand for answers.

“Come on, girl, help me out.” Her tail gave a heavy, pathetic string of thumps against the floor. “Really? Nothing? You’ve got no ideas?”Thump, thump, thump.I sighed, scratching her silky ear to distract myself, muttering, “Me either.”

“Are you conspiring with a dog?” Noel’s sudden appearance resulted in me smacking my head on the table as I righted myself. Grimacing, I rubbed at the spot as she swallowed a laugh. She slid the opposite chair out, twirling it around so she could straddle it.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “She’s been brilliant so far. Why stop now?”

“You might have better luck with a humanoid alliance.”

“Promising theory.”

“Might I suggest abest friend?” she asked, batting her lashes playfully.

“Got any ideas?”

Her conspiratorial smirk spelled mischief, and I wasn’t sure if it was promising or discouraging. “On forcing the hermit out of the house?”

I laughed, turning to survey the powerhouse in question as she arranged a display in the window, hanging up three-leaf clovers for St. Patrick’s Day. “She didn’t strike me as a loner.”

“She’s…subject to routine.”

Sipping on my tea, I glanced between them, weighing my options. Noel had eyes only for me. Which I was quick to point out. “You’re staring.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

Her delicate brows flicked up as she said, “Becauseyou’restaring.”

“Not at you.”

“First,rude. Second, my best friend is more important to me than I would ever be. If you’re interested in Brex, you’ve become my business. Understand?”

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