by Taryn Quinn
And my shirt.
For good measure, I pushed down the cups of my pale purple bra so the slightest hint of my nipples peeked over the satin material.
I took the picture and sent it, after double and triple-checking I’d picked the right text window again. Ivy and I were super close, but I was pretty sure she didn’t want to see how I truly flushed all over when I was embarrassed.
And so turned on my panties needed to be wrung out.
Quickly, I nudged my breasts back into my bra and buttoned my shirt. I almost wasn’t fast enough, since August called me instead of texting.
“You realize I’m going to save that picture for the rest of my life.” His voice had dipped about three octaves lower than it normally was. The low timbre skated over my nerve endings and made my already hard nipples tingle.
“I didn’t even look at it.” Because if I’d looked, I would’ve analyzed it. If I’d analyzed it, I wouldn’t have sent it.
I didn’t want to be that cautious look-eighteen-times-before-you-leap Kinleigh any longer.
“I sure did. I’m looking at it right now. In a minute, as soon as my last customer finishes browsing, I’m going to go into the back and pull out my—”
“You are not. You’re not going to waste that in your hand.” Was that really me sounding so breathless and needy and seductive?
Somehow it was.
“Then come down here and climb on top of me and take care of what you started.”
I swallowed over the dryness of my throat. “Technically, my clumsy fingers started it. I meant to text you and I texted Ivy.”
His rough chuckle was equally arousing. “I hope you didn’t tell her how much you love my—”
“Shh.” A laugh escaped me as I re-tied the shirttails of my shirt. “No. My text said we desecrated Bess Wainwright’s newly finished apartment the night of Macy’s wedding. Bess is in the shop right now, and when she told me where she was moving in, I fled into the back like a criminal.”
“So that’s what started your gorgeous flush this time. Made your nipples that deep dark pink I love.”
“Flush yes, but she didn’t have anything to do with the state of my nipples. That was all you, Becks. Oh, shit!” I let out a gasp as Patches jumped down from the third shelf of the bookcase where I kept odds and ends. She liked to wedge herself in there and not move so that she looked like a statue to go with the other bits of glassware and crystals and knickknacks I’d collected, some of which would be rotated into the store’s stock.
“Are you okay?” When I didn’t immediately reply—since I was rushing across the room to scoop up my cat—August’s tone took on an edge. “Kinleigh, answer me.”
Patches decided to meow loudly enough to respond for me. August laughed. “Guess I don’t need to call the cavalry.”
“What cavalry? You know you would’ve run up the steps in a single bound yourself.”
“Got me pegged, woman. So any chance of you coming down here? Soon?”
I couldn’t deny enjoying that thread of desire in his tone. Knowing he was as turned on by me as I was by him was so intoxicating.
A text came through with Ivy’s ringtone. Uh oh.
“I have customers. I’d like to.” I shifted the cat while trying not to drop the phone. “I’d really like to.”
“Show me your panties too. I’ll know if you mean it.”
A laugh bubbled out of me as I set down the cat, who skulked away with an irked glance over her shoulder. She wasn’t used to me choosing anyone over her.
“Quickie one,” I murmured before tugging up my skirt and snapping a picture of my hip and the curve of my backside. I hit send.
He laughed. “Cheater. But I like that view too. Your ass is stupendous.”
“Am I supposed to say thank you?”
“No, that’s my job, since you gift me with the present of your body daily.”
“Flatterer.” I twisted my hair over one shoulder. “I have a doctor’s visit today.”
“Already?” There was no mistaking the excitement in his voice. No hesitation at all.
When August went in, he went all in and then some.
“I have some questions.”
“Is everything okay?”
Then there was that too, that inherent kindness in him that sneaked out at the most unexpected, wonderful times. “Everything is fine, but I set up an appointment for a consultation to let my physician know I’m trying and to find out next steps. Not an exam or anything. Just to nail down my ovulation days and all that, even though I have a pretty good idea already. She mentioned taking a pregnancy test, but I told her it wasn’t necessary yet. Too soon.” The others had been negative, so the door from New Year’s Eve was closed.
“Good plan. Always prepared Kinleigh, dotting all her I’s and crossing all her T’s.” He cleared his throat. “Let me know what she says.”
“Actually, I wanted to ask you to come.”
Until that very moment, I hadn’t planned on that at all. I was used to doing everything alone. But he was so interested and invested that there was no way I could close him out—at least when it came to the baby.
Our baby. Maybe. If the fates aligned.
“Yes. Of course. Really? Oh, wow.”
I giggled like an idiot. “It’s just a doctor’s appointment. My doctor is very professional. She won’t ask any probing questions about us or anything.”
“Probing like what? Like how’d I get so lucky?”
I didn’t know how to react when he said stuff like that. His words gave me a nice warm glow, but I didn’t want to set either of us up for a fall later on. Better to stick to the parameters we’d established and enjoy them without building up false hopes—on either side.
“You know, like if we’re married or seeing each other or whatever you want to call it.”
“Far as I’m concerned, I don’t see you enough. So yeah, count me in. What time?”
“Four. She’s in Syracuse.”
“I’ll swing down at three-thirty. Three-fifteen if you think you can fit me…in.”
His lascivious tone made me take a deep breath. “Before my appointment?”
“Time enough for a shower.”
“In your world, speedy.”
“That’s not always a compliment but in this case—is that Ivy texting again?”
“Yeah. Distract her. I don’t want to tell her we had sex in Bess’s apartment.”
“Wonder if it’s still open?”
I grinned. “Seriously? You’re a pervert.”
“I’m a sentimental guy. What can I say? Later, Kin. I’ll deal with Ivy. But you owe me. And I always collect.”
He clicked off and I held the phone to my chest, smiling like a hopelessly in lo—lust, slightly crazy, hopefully soon to be pregnant woman.
But not too soon. I was a fan of the practice part.
And now I would sell my unique, hard to find items to Bess Wainwright, possibly with a small guilt-induced discount. Assuming she hadn’t gotten annoyed at my awkward response and left.
I walked to the door to the sales floor and opened it. There she was, still shopping with Vee. Thank goddess.
“Hi there, Bess, my apologies. I remembered an urgent call I had to take care of.”
Speaking of which, Ivy was still texting up a storm. I had no clue what August had said to her, but whatever it was, it hadn’t worked yet.
Bess turned toward me with a funky pair of Art Deco bookends. “I want these.”
“Why, of course.” My smile grew. Those were one of the priciest items in my shop. “If you truly love Art Deco, let me just show you—”
I pivoted and caught sight of Vee in front of the item in question, a long mirror on a stand done in Bess’s preferred style with beveled edges and glimmering stones set along the frame. She was twirling back and forth in a dress in shades of pink that brought a lovely flush to her skin and highlighted her new mom glow. The flattering V-neck top clung to her curves and flared
out into a kitschy skirt I’d repurposed from a retro Halloween costume. On top of it, she wore a cropped denim jacket that made her look young and fresh and happy.
So happy with her husband and her babies and her new business helping other women find their way to their dream of having a child. We all lovingly teased her about the “baby club” she’d started matching potential parents, but she was a godsend to those women. And some men too, I’d heard. She truly had it all.
I touched a trembling hand to my throat. “Oh, Vee, that’s perfect for you.”
“You think so?” She turned toward Bess and me. “I was planning on seducing Murphy, but tastefully, you know? Not with the crotchless panties just yet.” She laughed. “That’s for Saturday night.”
“Two date nights in one weekend?”
“Yeah, Macy is taking all three kids until Sunday morning because Dani is with her mother. Something about learning how to deal with a ‘houseful of rugrats’. I think she’s super hormonal right now, but she won’t admit it. Just wants some baby cuddles and is getting a dose of Brayden with it.”
“Aww, Brayden is the sweetest baby himself. Just a little older.” Bess smiled. “He’s around the age of my great-granddaughter Lily. Of course my newest great-granddaughter Rose is a cutie too. Nothing like that baby smell, is there? Here, I have new pictures.”
Bess pulled out a purple leather wallet from her expensive purple leather handbag and flashed half a dozen pictures at me of two giggling baby girls, one closer to toddler stage. Vee crowded in to see the pictures too before pulling out her phone to scroll through some snapshots of her own.
Normally, I would’ve felt awkward. Out of place. Unhappy, if I was truly being honest.
Today? I didn’t. Because I had August and the plan. I could have everything too—or a reasonable facsimile of it.
“There he is,” Vee said with a sigh as she looked at a picture of her husband.
I swallowed hard. That was the one thing I didn’t have. A man who looked at me as if the sun rose when I appeared and set when I left the room, as Murphy did with Vee.
My phone sounded with August’s ringtone and I pulled it out.
Ivy forgot all about your random text when I promised to build her a custom bookshelf like my newest piece, which you gotta see. It’s special. ;) You helped inspire it.
Then a pause.
You’re helping to inspire a lot lately.
I clutched my phone tighter. I didn’t want to believe in unicorns, but I couldn’t help wishing now and then. I hadn’t believed the baby thing could happen for me either. But maybe.
Just maybe.
I typed out a quick reply, barely resisting adding a smiley face at the end. And a heart.
I’m excited to see it. See you soon.
Can’t wait.
I glanced up and realized both Vee and Bess were grinning at me.
Bess tucked away her photos. “Nothing will put a look like that in a woman’s eye except hearing from her lover. I’ve worn that expression a few times myself.”
I didn’t flush for once in my life, and only because it was shocking to hear Bess use the word lover as if she was discussing bookends. Clearly, I needed to get out more. Or be more brazen about having a lover of my own.
Finally.
Vee’s smile was encouraging, not prying. “I hope so. You deserve someone special, Kin.”
“We’ll see.” I slipped my phone back into the pocket of my skirt.
But I couldn’t help smiling. Maybe.
Just maybe.
Fifteen
I soaped up my face. I swore every part of me was coated in gritty fibers.
Which was why I preferred working with wood instead of MDF. But did my client want to listen to me? Nope.
Did I try to argue with him?
Yep.
Did I win?
Did I ever?
The sound of wind chimes in my bathroom immediately brought my dick into my internal debate. And my dick won. Because thinking about Mr. Connor was definitely pushed aside for that particular ring tone.
I ducked out from behind my shower curtain and snagged my phone.
Your services are requested at Molly Street. Please bring post-coital ice cream.
I laughed and swore when soap streamed into the corner of my eye. I tucked my phone on the top shelf of my shower. It was water resistant, but all I needed was to have to replace it.
I finished rinsing off and took a little extra care with grooming. Kinleigh said she liked my manly scent, but I was pretty sure she meant the soap version. And maybe after I treated my furniture with eucalyptus-scented sealer.
She seemed to really like me then.
It had been a few weeks of booty calls, and I couldn’t say I minded them. The doctor’s appointment had been enlightening. So many things to know and worry about if—when—she got pregnant.
Even if I was her dirty little secret. It was always me going to her apartment, not vice versa. And okay, so I enjoyed the many—and I do mean many—different versions of after work outfits I found when I went to Kin’s apartment.
My favorite was naked, of course.
But I’d really liked peeling her out of her footie pajamas last night. She tended toward cozy clothing on the cooler nights. I was unaware footie pajamas were a thing outside of the kids’ department, but she made them work.
Especially when red lace was hiding under the fleece.
I quickly typed back an answer and tucked a towel around my hips. Before I got to my bedroom, she answered with her ice cream flavor preference.
Guess it was a chocolate swirl kind of night.
My previous annoyance slipped away as I whistled my way over to my closet for a pair of my oldest jeans and pulled on a T-shirt to go with my sweatshirt. Spring was thinking about making itself known, but the brutal wind off the lake always reminded me it was still early March.
I tugged on a winter cap instead of my usual ball cap, grabbed my keys, and was out the door in ten minutes. Night didn’t drop like a curtain quite as quickly as it used to, but it was well after six when I stopped into the café for ice cream.
I couldn’t exactly raid my sister’s fridge like I usually would.
Luckily, Macy had started carrying Ivy’s ice cream all year round. And because I hadn’t had time for dinner, I ordered a pie from Robbie’s while I was in line. Then what was a pizza without beer?
By the time I was on the road toward Kinleigh’s apartment, the front seat of my truck was full. I caught the bunch of tulips out of the corner of my eye. Maybe that was going a little over the top.
I sighed. I wasn’t exactly good at the booty call kind of dating. Especially when I wanted so much more.
“Long game, man,” I muttered to myself once I arrived and gathered all of my contraband. I hip-checked my door shut and tucked the tulips more fully in the bag with the ice cream.
Kinleigh lived in a rehabbed old Victorian that had been sliced up into six apartments. It suited her funky side with the old dollhouse-style. Or gingerbread, give or take the historian.
Her window glowed with twinkle lights and bright pink curtains framed out each of the four windows that made up the tower jutting out from the side of the house. Kinleigh was in the center of it, her hair making a wild silhouette in the glass.
I swallowed hard.
Hair down Kin tonight. She was doing something with one of her dress forms. Slowly circling it in that way she had when she was deep in thought. I understood her design mind, if not always the output she came up with.
She never stopped working. We had that in common at least.
One of her neighbors was coming out as I was climbing the stairs to the porch. She was an older woman I didn’t see often in town. Not overly friendly, but she seemed to recognize me and held the door open.
“Thanks.”
She gave me a brisk nod and rushed down the stairs to the driveway.
I took the stairs to Kinleigh’s floor, two at a
time. My hands were full so I didn’t get to text her ahead of time, but she should be expecting me.
The closer I got to her apartment door, I heard music. It was one of Kinleigh’s favorite singers. I heard her singing along upstairs a lot. Tonight was no different.
I knocked with my boot.
Her music was too loud, evidently.
I tried again and finally, she swung the door open. Her golden-red curls haloed around her, and her endless legs were showing under a pair of short-shorts in a girly pink. She wore a cropped purple sweatshirt with The Misfits slashed across the front.
Was she even old enough to know who they were? I barely did.
Best part? It fell off her shoulder and she wasn’t wearing a bra.
I was a damn lucky man.
She was makeup free and smiling up at me. One of my favorite Kinleigh expressions. Then she glanced down and saw the food and the flowers. Her cheeks pinked and she snatched the bouquet of pink and purple tulips out of the bag.
“How did you find tulips?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“They’re beautiful, thank you.” She buried her face in the blooms before going onto her tiptoes to give me a soft, almost shy kiss. An all too brief one.
“Nuh uh. I’ll take some more of that.” I grasped her arm when she would’ve slipped away too soon and lowered my mouth to hers once again.
After a moment, she slid back and cleared her throat and turned on her heel to go to her small kitchen. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
I followed her in. “I hadn’t had dinner yet.” I set the pie down on her tiny kitchen island and nudged a three-tiered rack full of crystals, rocks, and plants over a little. At the top was a colorful diffuser pumping out the crisp scent of lemon I was so used to. “Figured I’d share.”
She busied herself with putting the flowers in a trio of mason jars. She set one by her sink in the window, then dragged her thumb along the edge of a bloom before turning away to take the other two into the living room.
I dragged my hand through my hair. Was she upset? Flowers were the go-to for my mom. And while I wasn’t exactly a serial dater, I’d had girlfriends before.
