by Taryn Quinn
He groaned into my mouth when my nail scraped over a nipple.
Sweet August left the building.
He turned me into the frame of the door, bracing one arm on the roof of the truck and the other around my waist as he obliterated my brain. There was a fine art to kissing. I’d kissed plenty of males in my years on the planet. Most never got past that because if you couldn’t kiss then my interest level hit the skids.
August had fourteen freaking medals—all gold.
The scruff on his face abraded my flesh, but it only ramped up the buzzing under my skin. My heartbeat thundered, and my breath caught in my chest. He opened me up, demanding participation, and I gave it. I twined my arms around his back, my nails digging into his muscles and smooth skin.
I plastered myself to him until there was no air between us.
My back arched as he nearly bent me backward to get closer. His teeth scraped over my lower lip and chin to my neck. His lips and tongue made quick and thorough trails along each side to nip at my ear before going back to my mouth once more.
I couldn’t catch up.
I couldn’t control it.
I couldn’t breathe.
Too much.
Too hot.
Too perfect.
I pushed him back. “Stop.”
Dazed, he clutched the back of my neck and went for my throat again.
“August.”
No.
Everything inside me railed against the word, but I knew this was a mistake. I’d hurt him. I’d steep myself in the taste of him, in the utter pleasure, but then I’d ruin everything.
I always did.
I couldn’t chance it.
Not with him. Not Ivy’s brother.
I shoved him back. “What are you doing?”
He smiled into my mouth and nipped my lower lip. “Kissing you.”
“Why?”
He frowned, the heat and playfulness draining from his eyes. “Didn’t you want me to?”
I swallowed down the need to scream yes. I wanted it so much it terrified me. “Are you crazy? Ivy would kill us.”
He took a step back. “Why would she care?”
“We’re family. It’s weird.” I grasped at anything. “It’s just the adrenaline from the baby. I don’t want to ruin…” Everything. “Our friendship.”
“It wouldn’t.”
“It would.” I ducked under his arm. “It’s not real.”
“It tasted real. I like kissing you, Kinleigh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We can be adults. If it didn’t work out, we’d be fine.”
See, he knew. I wasn’t the one that men took home to mom. I was the weird orphan girl his mom put up with because Ivy loved me. I shook my head. “I work upstairs. We’d have to see each other every day.” The laugh that came out of my chest was rusty and too high-pitched. “Imagine us getting naked? It’s just crazy.” So crazy that I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I touched my lips. “Crazy.”
His face went stony. “Sorry kissing me was so abhorrent.”
“No, it was fine.”
“Fine? Thanks.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Let me just drop you off.”
I looked around the parking lot and spotted Gina. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just go with the girls.” I shouted Gina’s name.
She twisted around, her dark hair in a ponytail and half of her diner uniform already on.
“Can I grab a ride?” I shouted.
She nodded and made a come on gesture.
“See?” My voice was more than a little panicky as I gazed at August. His forehead was lined, and his jaw was like granite. He looked perplexed…and pissed. “You can go home, and we’ll just forget this happened. Okay?”
“Right.” He slammed the door. “Sure.”
I could go to work. Crash on the couch in my office for a few hours then open up the store.
Working was smart. It was the one thing I’d always been good at.
Not marriage material, Kin. You’re good with the biz side. Not so much the personal.
I started to take off his hoodie, but he shook his head. “Keep it.”
“Thanks.”
What was I going to do with this? Not wear it to bed when I was cold, that was for sure.
I definitely wasn’t going to sniff it to remember how it had been to kiss him—and for him to kiss me back. He’d even started it.
Why had he started it?
“Yeah. See ya whenever.” Then he disappeared around the front of his truck and got in.
I watched him pull out of the space and drive toward the exit without a backward glance. My throat was on fire, and I was pretty sure I was going to keel over from an adrenaline crash. Two of them in the span of twelve hours.
“You okay, Kinleigh?” Gina crossed the parking lot to me. “Was August all right?” Her gaze dropped to my mouth.
Did it look he’d just kissed the hell out of me? My stupid Irish skin showed everything. I pushed my hair out of my face. I probably looked like a train wreck. “Yeah, just tired. I didn’t want to make him go all the way to my house then to his. Opposite directions.”
“Oh.” She smiled brightly, just like Gina always did. Thankfully, she didn’t call me out on my obvious bullshit response. I must’ve looked really bad. “Yeah, that makes total sense.”
Of course it did.
See? I could be smart. I hadn’t ruined anything.
I’d prevented a colossal mistake just in time.
One
New Year’s Eve
I gazed out the window of my shop. Kinleigh’s Attic was currently closed. Heck, most of Crescent Cove was currently closed, and not just because it was the biggest night to party. Nope, the place had practically shut down because we were all going to witness the very chilly nuptials of two of the central figures of our town.
Macy Devereaux and John Gideon were getting hitched in a very impromptu New Year’s Eve wedding at the gazebo. Their fast-forwarded timeline was occurring mostly because Macy was knocked up. Not really a shocker in this town, but they were one of the few couples who’d actually gotten engaged before implantation.
However, the real kicker was that Macy had given the green light to starting a family. Then the water in the Cove had struck again. It was almost research-worthy. Actually, I’d seen more than one article pop up on Reddit about our little town’s baby boom.
If we had to be famous for something, I guess the baby thing wasn’t a bad deal. But for once, today wasn’t about babies. It was about love.
For a thrown together wedding, the view was breathtaking. Personally, I’d figured a Halloween wedding was totally going to be their thing. However, the baby’s due date was going to make that a big ol’ no.
I leaned against the windowsill, tapping my short blue nails against the frosty panes of my window. The sun had set, dropping the temperature quite a bit from what it had been earlier this afternoon. The rare sunshine had been a bonus for decorating the pier and surrounding trees. I could see just enough of the park from the back of my shop to get a peek at what the guys in Gideon’s crew had been up to.
Mason jars danced from the branches, thanks to the brisk wind off the water. I knew they were lit up with battery-powered tealights since the guys had raided my shop and all the nearby ones for any and all they could find. Amazon Prime didn’t have enough tiny candles to handle the look Vee—Veronica Masterson, the co-matron of honor and the bakery wiz over at Brewed Awakening—was determined to pull off.
She and Rylee Kramer were part of Macy’s very small inner circle and were prepared to move heaven and earth to make this wedding as special as possible.
Vee was also heavily pregnant and had taken on some Macy personality traits over the last few days. Yikes. Her husband, Murphy, was one of Gideon’s closest friends, so they were all fired up to make this wedding as perfect as possible given the abbreviated timetable.
The gazebo itself was still lit up from Christmas, but they’d swapped out the
fat vintage colored lights along the overhang with sassy orange ones. Bats hung between each bulb. The rest was a wash of white twinkle lights everywhere with a Macy flavor.
Meaning more bats. I was surprised there were no floating horror movie masks or creepy severed heads, but maybe they were going for subtlety.
I turned back to the dress form standing in the center of my dressing area. I’d pushed all the comfy chairs and oversized bean bag chairs aside to make room for the women who would be coming in to get ready for the wedding. The wedding party was small, but I wanted to make them as comfortable as possible.
I’d been in charge of altering a vintage cream dress we’d found on a shopping trip into one of the big bridal boutiques in Syracuse. I’d used all the tricks in my arsenal to make the dress as Macy as possible. Including a little surprise I’d found at one of my favorite online vendors.
Kristy always had the perfect gothic one of a kind—or in this case, a dozen—items.
I fluffed out the short train I’d added to the dress. I’d held onto the extra yard of almond-colored silk for something special, and this was about as perfect as it got. I’d spent all night cutting out spaces for the appliqués I’d bought and had hand sewn in each one.
If you didn’t have a discerning eye, you’d totally miss it.
I smiled at the lace eyelets. “Damn good job, Kin.”
“Love when I walk in to hear a strong woman patting herself on the back. You deserve it.”
I spun around with a snort. “Shut up, Ivy.”
“What? I’m totally being serious.” She crossed the room to stand next to me with Rhiannon snuggled up tight inside her baby wrap, which matched her dress, thanks to moi. She started swaying, which caused me to sway too because I was terribly susceptible to the baby-comforting stance.
I really wished there was time for me to unwrap Rhiannon and get a snuggle, but Macy would be here any second. I made do with brushing a finger over her pink chubby cheeks. “She’s getting so big.”
“Tell me about it. She looks for the boob almost as much as my husband.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Okay, thanks for ruining a sweet moment.”
“Just you wait. You’ll understand what I’m talking about someday.”
The familiar tightening in my chest seemed to be happening more and more these days. You couldn’t turn a corner without finding a stroller out, or toddlers taking over the park. Holding out the hopes for my own happily ever after was getting more difficult by the day.
Except for that one moment…
Shove that crap down, girl.
I was not going there with the perpetrator’s sister—and my best friend—standing right next to me. That unforgettable moment with August the day Rhiannon was born had been nine levels of wrong. Or was that sixty-nine?
It had been so long since I’d even had missionary sex, I wasn’t going to start getting ambitious.
“You feeling okay?”
I blinked out of that dangerous memory lane. “Why?”
“You’re all flushed.” Ivy swayed her way in front of the mannequin. “Or is it because you’re exhausted? You must have been up all night with this, Kin.” She smoothed her hand down a long, lacy sleeve. “It’s beautiful.”
I lifted a hand to my burning cheek. “Yeah, you know me. No sleep and ruddy cheeks all day. Thank goodness I’m not going to be in the pictures, huh?”
She absently patted the baby’s back. “You’re sure that’s all it is?”
“Yeah. I’m just nervous for Macy to see it. I hope she likes it.”
“What did you do to it?” Macy’s husky Demi Moore-esque voice came from the doorway.
I rushed over to her. “I did some alterations like we talked about.” I nibbled on the corner of my thumbnail. “And something else.”
“You aren’t going to make me look stupid, right? That’s all I really care about. God, I knew I should have just gone with the orange dress.”
I clutched Macy’s hands. “While you definitely could have pulled off that orange dress,” and probably would have scandalized half the town council, although she would’ve looked awesome, “I think you’ll like the addition to the dress. It’s very you.”
Macy squeezed my hands back quickly before dropping them. She wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely type and I could feel the nerves radiating off her. Good thing I’d upped my essential oils in the shop for this last fitting. I was pumping lavender and lemon into the air as well as wearing my tree of life wrapped amethyst crystal against my heart.
You know, the one currently racing like it was my first time, for goddess’s sake.
I’d altered every kind of clothing since I was fourteen. When you didn’t have any money, you got creative with Salvation Army finds. But this dress was the first one I’d actually adjusted with a single person in mind. Usually, I created in just my own funky style that I hoped would resonate with someone out there in the universe.
Macy slowly walked toward Rosalie. Okay, yeah, it was weird that my dress form had a name. She had been with me since I’d opened my shop. She was actually the first thing I’d bought with money made under my business’s name.
I had half a dozen dress forms and twenty mannequins all around the store, but this one was special. I didn’t care if my appreciation of her was strange. It wasn’t as if I was kissing her like in that movie from the eighties or anything. That and she didn’t have a head.
Whatever.
“Did you add a train?” Macy shot a look at me over her shoulder. “You know I’m not into that girly shit.”
“I know.” My throat was dust dry as I swallowed. “Hear me out. This is a very special train.”
Macy folded her arms. Her striking features were accentuated by her new short haircut, and Rylee’s deft hand with makeup. At least that was my guess, since I’d never seen Macy wear more than a little mascara at the café. “Do I look like the type who goes for the princess stuff?”
“First of all, everyone wants to be a princess on their special day.”
“True story,” Ivy piped up.
I shot her a grateful smile. “Exactly.” I tucked one of my wild curls behind my ear. I should have straightened it today, but I hadn’t had time. Heck, I’d been impressed I managed a shower with my lack of sleep.
I spun Rosalie around to show off the lace and silk panel I’d added to the back. I’d ripped out the boring ruffles and went with simple silk then used the largest appliqué of the bunch to stretch between her shoulder blades. The rest floated down the skirt of the dress as if they were flying.
“Bats.” Macy’s whisper was a little watery.
I pressed my lips together, afraid to look up at her. “Yeah. A friend of mine has a really cool online shop, and I hope you don’t mind—oof.”
Macy grabbed me into a tight, crushing hug. “It’s fucking awesome. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
I patted her lightly—mostly because I couldn’t move from her grip. Holy cats.
She pushed me away to go back to the dress. “You found lacy bats. I didn’t even know that was a thing.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Dammit, if you make me cry, I’m going to punch you.”
Ivy and I laughed.
“I’m so glad you like it.”
“I love it.” She ran a trembling hand over the shoulder then stepped back. “I’m afraid to touch it.”
“You can’t hurt it.” I unzipped the side zipper I’d hidden. “You’re going to look amazing. Do you want me to help you?”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Yeah. Is that cool? I mean, I know you’ve seen plenty of chicks naked, but…weird.”
I draped the dress gently over my arm and led her to the dressing room. “Tell you what. I set out the foundation stuff we bought you. See how you do with that, and then I’ll help you with the dress.”
“Yeah. I can do that. Cool.” She blew out a breath, stopping in the doorway. “Thanks, Kin. Seriously. I didn’t think this ceremony would be me
at all. And that’s okay. I just want to marry him, and in the grand scheme, it doesn’t matter.”
“You’re only getting married once. At least that’s the plan for all of us.”
“I’m definitely only doing this once. Besides, if he screws it up, there won’t be a divorce, just a murder trial.”
“And there’s the Macy we all know and love.”
She shrugged. “Vee’s got me listening to all those murder podcasts she’s into. Gives a girl ideas.”
“Pretty sure Gideon would rather cut off a leg than let you down.”
Macy’s eyes reddened again. “Yeah. Kind of amazing.” She blew out a breath and smoothed a hand down her still flat middle. “Now let’s make sure I still fit in all this stuff.”
I closed the door behind her and hung the dress on the silk hanger attached to the intricately carved door I’d found in an estate sale in Salem. It had been the inspiration for the entire dressing room area. I’d seen photos of the original black stain that had now faded to a soft beachy gray. Each door had a black cat carved into the lower corner doing something different. One sleeping, another playing with yarn, and the last arched in a stretch.
I’d painted the rooms hot pink with a different tone on tone stripe. One horizontal, one vertical, and the last one pinstriped, which Macy was in now.
I settled on the huge round hassock that served as a parking spot for friends who were shopping together or for an armload of clothes. It was a dark lush pink that complemented the lighter pink dressing rooms.
A particular scruffy guy with his perpetual backwards ball cap covered in pink fuzz had been the highlight of that week last fall, pre-Rhiannon’s birth. August had built the base for me and had helped me stretch the material over the massive centerpiece. He’d come through in the clutch, so who could blame me for occasionally wondering what it would be like if he spread me out on it and…
Nope. I could not think about that right now.
