Page 62 of South of The Skyway

Juniper Rhodes loved few things more than Milo on the grill, her kids lounging around contentedly eating her signature potato salad and something good on the stereo. Eddy, our general contractor, had taken a glance at my sketches and grinned like a maniac. He couldn’t add the project on without serious delays, but he got me all the lumber and stone at cost, and I was freaking pumped about it. Plus, I hadn’t heard from Brexley except for a text last night letting me know Noel was being discharged and thanking me for my help again. To keep my brain off my evasive fling, I focused on my parents.

Nobody was perfect, but my parents had inspired me from the day I first drew breath. This might be their winter retreat for the next few years, but this would be their permanent oasis when they passed off the boat. And I’d be damned if it was anything less than idyllic. We’d grown up clipping pictures from magazines and pasting them on vision boards mom would pin up on the living room wall, only taking them down once they materialized. She could have single-handedly keptHome And Gardenin business, which is why this particular challenge was my passion project. Ideally, I’d have the fire pit and seating in before they visited so we could all break it in together.

I pulled my glove off to peel the top off a blister when the sound of an engine jerked my head up. Back pocket now stuffed full of gloves, sweat still pouring down my chest, I spotted the iconic nose of a black Jeep Wrangler and grinned, shaking my head.

“Well, if you’re not just full of surprises.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

BREXLEY

In order to convince Noel to take the time she needed to heal, I’d had to slap on my best extrovert face with a broad smile and doe-eyes. She’d cackled yet relented, promising to video chat again later and reassuring me that she was fine and healing. Her amusement turned into a sly snicker as she stared daggers at me.

“So, how’s Rhyett?”

“How should I know?” I retorted, about to devise some pathetic excuse when she cut me off.

“Just accustomed to befriending blowfish, then?” My face had just hijacked the muscles, scowl slipping into place, when she gave a breathy cackle, stretching out her good arm to jab a sore spot on my neck. “He attack you when you got home? You’ve got kiss tattoos on your neck and shoulder, dummy.”

Heat rushed up through my cheeks as my eyes fell to my lap. For some reason, the idea that Rhyett had marked me while he fucked me senseless didn’t make my skin crawl like it ought to. Some primitive part of me kind of…liked it.

* * *

Thanks to Holland and Wrenly,the place was still running smoothly. We’d done well, hiring the two of them. Both thanks to Noel’s impeccable instincts when it came to people. My systems had been easy enough for them to get the hang of, and this trial—as terrifying as it was—was the first affirmation that we’d done it right. Someday we could walk away from operations in exchange for a new adventure, and The Cracked Corset would keep sailing without us.

A strange kind of anticipation twisted in my stomach as the bell rang. My mouth about fell open as what could only be described as a trio of models stepped in the door. All impossibly tall, the women held themselves with an unnerving air of authority. The first had precisely curled brunette hair down to her waist, her bright eyes scanning the space before she ran her long, pale fingers down the line of books, smiling with familiarity in her eyes before she plucked one from a shelf. The two behind were undoubtedly sisters, both so blonde their pin-straight hair was nearly white: one all angles and one soft-looking with muscled curves. The latter tossed her long hair over her shoulder as she sashayed into the space.

I felt every woman’s self-image take a twenty-point hit at the exact moment mine did. Where was Noel when I needed her? Noel was blind to the unfairly attractive—she had a saint’s ability to love everyone and befriend them in an instant.

Wrenly blew out a breath as two men stepped in behind them, one scowling and the other entertained. They were equally beautiful. It was nauseating.

“This is the absolute definition of bi-panic,” Wrenly muttered, nearly fumbling the French press she was putting away. I laughed, shaking my head and returning to running inventory on sugar packets and honey containers beneath the counter, hoping Holland would bail us out. I was still busying myself with numbers when a throat cleared. The tall brunette. Of course. Her posse had taken over two tables in the corner. This was not what I was built for. This was Noel’s forte. But I swallowed my nerves and lifted my head to march for the counter.

“Find everything okay?”

“Ahh, not quite, but we got what we came for.”

“Oh,” I said, nearly choking on my own spit as I looked up at her. “Anything I can help you find?”

“I doubt it,” she said softly, sliding her stack of books across the counter. Examining titles as I scanned them through the system, I smiled.

“Great taste,” I complimented as the final code rang in.

“Thanks, my sisters pick well.”

After she inserted her card and the receipt printed, I forced that trained smile on my face and met her impossibly green eyes. “Thank you so much for coming in! Hope you have a great day.”

“Thanks for the great selection. You too!”

She was the kind of woman I wanted to hate, though I couldn’t since her voice’s warmth was somehow reassuring. We exchanged pleasant smiles before she turned back for her family, the dark-haired man with a permanent scowl holding the door for them all. Then the shop was quiet, a few patrons noting their exit before returning to their books and pastries.

By the end of the day, the countless faces had all blended together, a colorful haze of comings and goings, round after round of conversation smooshing into the next. It was official. Noel was an angel. I would take twelve hours in my dark little cubby over plastering a smile on my face and forcing conversation any day. At one point, I’d looked up to see a tall blonde guy hesitate by our door, and my heart leapt, only to settle into a pool of disappointment. I blew out a pained sigh.

“What?” Wren asked, concern etched between her brows as she set down two mugs.

“Nothing,” I said back, sliding her the cinnamon before wiping the back of my hand over my brow. She placed her stencil and sprinkled the foam with spice. Wrenly smirked over at me before flashing a smile at the two blondes waiting on beverages.

“Riiiight,” she said, drawing it out as the door clanged behind them. Holland rounded the corner and collapsed into the chair closest to the bar with a sigh.

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