by Quinn, Taryn
Macy sighed and crossed the room to a closet. She left the bat there and came back with a broom. “Yeah, you harass me for coffee. This goes above and beyond.”
I scrubbed my palm down my bare leg. Oh, great. Please don’t be half naked. What did I wear to bed? I looked down and blew out a breath. At least I was wearing shorts.
I’d been so damn hot at night lately that I went to sleep wearing only a T-shirt half the time.
She held out the broom to me with an expectant nod.
After taking it, I looked down at my footprints ghosted through the scattered coffee and sugar. I lifted a foot and brushed it off with a wince. “So, I sleepwalk.”
“Pardon?”
I swept up the granules into piles. Man, just how fine had I ground the freaking coffee? It was practically powder. “I used to do it a lot, but I grew out of it.”
“I’m gonna say it’s back. You know how many times you’ve done this?”
I winced. “More than once, I gather?”
“This would be the third time. Maybe fourth. The first time, I was totally freaked out. Thought I was losing my damn mind.” She grabbed a rag and spray bottle from under the register. “Just had two plates with bagels sitting on the counter one morning last week.”
“Oh, boy.” Things had been moved around in my apartment, but I hadn’t unpacked everything yet. I couldn’t be sure if I stopped unpacking mid-box or if I’d just forgotten where I’d put things.
Like two plates with my bakery goods.
Evidently, Denialsville was a place I called home. I didn’t want to believe it could be happening again. With the move, a new job, and having my sister so close to me that she was in my business all the time…
Yeah, stress was my first, middle, and last name.
“Then I came in to find a sugar bag open on the floor with sugar everywhere. So, then I thought I had a rodent problem. Unless it’s a bat, I’m not interested in that kind of crap in my place.”
“I’m so sorry. I swear, I didn’t know.”
Though wow, she liked bats? That was…different.
“The last time was coffee and caramel.”
“Kathy loves your caramel.” I pushed my crazy hair out of my face at Macy’s deadpan expression. “I get coffee for the floral shop.”
“Right. Black with two raw sugars, coffee regular with caramel, and double espresso shot mocha latte.”
I blushed. “Yeah, that’s us.”
“So, you make coffee too, Houdini?”
I winced. “Worked at a coffee shop in high school.”
“Not neatly.”
“Yeah, well, you should have seen my kitchen when I was a teenager. I’d leave the door to the fridge open and put peanut butter-covered knives back in the drawer.”
“You’re a real peach.”
My neck heated and I seriously wanted to run back up the stairs. “I used to do it a lot when I was in high school. Hormones and stuff, I guess.” I used the back of my hand to push my hair back. I felt sticky and gross. “Can I wash up a bit?”
“Sure.” Macy pointed at the boxes under the counter. “I was having cameras put in next week.”
I ran the taps and soaped up my hands, digging out coffee grounds from under my nails. “How did you know I was in here? Did you hear me or something?”
“No. I set a nanny cam up until Gideon can put those in.”
I looked around. “Where?”
She pointed to a bat tacked up with its wings extended in the corner of her display case. “Little camera in there. Motion sensor, just can’t see shit at night. All I saw was someone moving around in the dark.”
“And you came down here with a baseball bat? Are you crazy?”
Macy tipped her head. “Really?”
“Well, you didn’t know if I was a thief. You should have called the cops.”
“You asked me not to call the cops.”
“Well, of course, I don’t want to get into trouble, but oh my God, what if I was dangerous?”
“Yeah, you and your sugar problem. Totally dangerous.”
“I mean, I don’t know you, really, but dude, not cool.”
“I can take care of myself, don’t worry.” She dragged the garbage over and scraped my mess into the bag.
“I’ll pay for it.”
“For what?”
“The stuff I wasted.”
Macy shrugged. “It’s fine. Vee makes a bigger mess just walking through the back room.”
“But I totally broke in and wrecked the place.”
“Look, Rylee, right?”
I sighed. “Yeah, Rylee.”
We’d spoken a few times, but Macy wasn’t exactly the chatty type. And I was completely fine with that, other than the fact that I’d totally broken into her place. What in the fuck? How was this my life?
“I mean, we gotta figure out how to stop you from sleepwalking into my joint, but I’m not going to be a shit about it. It’s not your fault or whatever. It’s a condition.” She flipped the end of her braid over her shoulder. “It’s fine.”
I tried to stop a smile. Macy was gruff. The only reason I kept coming back to her coffee shop was because she made the best coffee I’d ever tasted. Good thing, because she barked at her customers more than she smiled. And yet Brewed Awakening was busy all the time because she was a damn genius at coming up with the perfect combinations based on the person, not just a menu like most places.
“It usually comes up when I’m stressed. Evidently, moving and starting a new job is way more stressful than I thought it would be.” The last time it had happened, I’d lost a boyfriend over it. And my current level of exhaustion should have been a freaking clue. That and the fact that my pants were getting a little tight.
The worst part of sleepwalking for me had always been the middle of the night eating. Diet all you want, but if your subconscious is trashing your diet, it ain’t gonna work. Not that I was a hardcore dieter, but a carb sabotage sucked.
“Good thing it doesn’t work like that for me. I’d be sleepwalking all over friggin’ town.”
I laughed. It was the only thing I could do. I was so far past embarrassed, I was in the next county. “Could you maybe…keep this between us?” I piled up plates from where I’d demolished her stacks. Luckily, they were plastic.
She gave me a sidelong glance. “It’s damn good blackmail material.”
My breath stalled.
“I’m kidding.” She lobbed a towel at me.
I caught it and laughed. “Freaks some people out.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything. Nobody’s fucking business anyway. Freaking small town busybodies don’t need any other fodder.”
I laughed. “I’m quite happy not to be part of that club.”
“Give it time, Houdini.”
We finished cleaning up in the quiet. The café really was peaceful without the bustle of people shouting orders behind the counter.
Macy’s perpetual Halloween aesthetic had seemed weird when I first moved in, but now it just was. She had a wall of cubicle-style shelves, each decorated with a different type of scene. The overwhelming horror and fall elements made me smile.
I shifted a mug with the Scream Ghostface mask on it. “You a slasher flick fan?”
“Hell, yes.”
I laughed. “I think I’ve seen every movie you have showcased in here.”
“Oh, that’s just for the regular people. The bottom two shelves are for the true aficionados.”
I crouched and laughed at the woman wearing a machine gun for a leg. “No freaking way.” I turned toward Macy standing behind me. “Grindhouse?”
“Girl, sometimes you just want to watch a girl blow some shit up without any of that politically correct bullshit.”
“None of that in those movies for sure. God, they’re so deliciously bad.”
“You like them?” She cocked her hip with her arms folded over her chest. “Now I’m doubly glad I didn’t call the cops.”
> I grinned up at her. “Me too.” I tugged down my babydoll sleeping shirt. “I’m really sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry.”
Macy waved me off. “Forget it. No real harm done. Now that I don’t think I’m losing my mind, or that zombies are infiltrating my café at night.”
I laughed. “Well, my mom says I look a little zombie-like when I do the sleepwalking thing.”
“It is a little freaky on the video I have. You kinda shuffle along like you’re confused, but still have a destination in mind.”
“Ugh. That sounds about right. The worst part is the insomnia that comes with it. I could stare at the ceiling for hours. Rain apps, thunderstorms—”
“White noise app,” Macy interrupted.
“You know the drill then?”
“Girl, I haven’t slept correctly since…ever. Why do you think I invent ways to caffeinate?”
“And I live for your lattes. Only way I get through the day.”
“However, I do have a fairly cool way to chill out.”
“Those edibles you mentioned?”
She snorted. “No, those just made me even more anxious and panicked. Pass times eleven, thanks.”
I sighed. “Me too.”
“Sucks.” She crossed to a little end table by the couch along the wall. “However…” She plucked a little remote out of a hidden panel on the side of the table. “I do have this.” She pushed the button and a huge screen lowered from the ceiling.
“Oh my God. That is glorious.”
The screen filled with dozens of movies from her collection in iTunes. “I’ve got anything you could think of for movies.”
“Got Scream in there?”
She paged ahead. “Of course I do.”
“Now the real question. Popcorn?”
“Caramel and cheddar.”
My smile spread. “Oh, we’re going to be very good friends.”
“I’ll get the popcorn and hot chocolate.”
I dropped onto the couch. Tonight could have gone very badly, but somehow I’d backed into finding a new friend. It almost made up for the very terrifying realization that I had to deal with sleepwalking again.
Just freaking awesome.
Three
Being a family man was for the birds. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.
I wasn’t quite sure what had possessed my brother Dare to go from one small town to an even more bucolic one, but then again, here I was visiting for the second time in a handful of months. The last time I’d been home before that had been…well, years ago.
The racing circuit was a very exacting mistress. She demanded all my time and I’d been more than happy to follow her from town to town. The lure of the track and the power of the cars had always fired my blood. Even before my brother had left the NASCAR pro-circuit, I’d been angling for a way to get my name up on the leaderboard.
It had been slightly easier with Dare out of the picture. He’d been a rising star with more natural aptitude than anyone else driving at the time. How many drivers could race their way up the ranks into the top ten within a year?
Not many. But he had. And I’d longed to do the same.
When he left to start a family, I’d been happy to step up and show everyone that I wasn’t just Dare Kramer’s little brother. I’d been shocked that he would give everything up for a kid and that shrew of a woman he’d gotten together with, but that was Dare. Ever the responsible one. Even when he’d been working in the pit crews, he’d been sought after as the singular mechanic to have on your team. But his blinding loyalty had kept him from climbing out of the rookie ranks.
And now he was here in Crescent Cove at a mechanic shop doing fucking oil changes instead of working on the crankiest engines on the planet.
I couldn’t be that guy. Not ever.
Oh, because you’re so happy?
I ignored the voice. I’d been actively avoiding it since I’d left Nashville. I had three different sponsor contracts sitting in my email inbox right now. My agent was blowing up my phone every other hour asking what the hell I was waiting for.
My last sponsor had decided against doing another year on the pro-circuit. Instead of freaking out like my entire pit crew, I’d felt nothing but relief. My usual crew had scattered to the four winds to other teams within a week. Not a single one of them had even bothered to ask me if I was moving on to another team. They’d just hit the road.
And that was the life. Ever changing when it came to pit crews and sponsors, even the cars.
Me? I’d just been driving for pleasure for the first time in nearly ten years.
I’d driven out to California and took the time to actually enjoy the coastal highway instead of flying over it between races. The motor on my Camaro had shit the bed halfway across Colorado. That was pretty much when I decided my cross country escapade was over.
Driving solo wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
In more ways than one.
So, here I was back in Crescent Cove. No crew, no stock car, and no real idea what the hell I wanted to do with myself. I could take a year off and try to get back into the game. I’d have to practically start over to gain traction again, and part of that was appealing.
Everything seemed too easy, too boring right now. My life was literally built around a stopwatch and driving in circles. Once, it had meant everything to me and I wasn’t sure when that started to change.
The day a huntress made you beg.
I tightened my fingers around the steering wheel of my rental. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a laugh that stayed with me months later.
Of course that laugh came out of a mouth I couldn’t forget for a number of other reasons.
Fuck, I couldn’t go there right now. The last thing I needed was to walk around town with a hard-on.
I found a parking spot across from the park. And there was the big old gazebo my brother had gotten married in.
I’d never seen him happier. Maybe it had been then that I’d felt the first twinge of dissatisfaction with my life.
The handwriting had been on the wall even before that. Instead of the stag party I’d been trying to put together for Dare, we ended up at The Spinning Wheel. Dare hadn’t been interested in partying the night away. He’d barely grunted his way through a beer with four—oh, yeah, partying it up hard—of his friends before making excuses to go home to his kid.
And sure, Wes was damn cute, but it wasn’t like I was in town all that damn often. Was I completely out of Dare’s life at this point?
Yep. That’s affirmative.
I slammed the door on that thought and wandered down the wet sidewalks toward the pier. Spring in upstate New York was in full effect. Rain, rain, oh, and more rain. The lake was choppy with the leftover wind from the last storm that had followed me up from the city.
The last time I’d been here, the entire town had been decked out in its Christmas finery. Now there was mud and slivers of snow clinging to the edges of the grass determined to break through.
The gray sky fit my mood though. As did the sun trying to burn its way through the misty clouds. I was tired of the sameness in my life. Trials, tryouts, speed tests, and safety checks had ruled every moment of my day. Then the nights had been about going to bars just to ease the loneliness.
The night before Dare’s wedding had been far more interesting than any other for a damn long time. A woman who didn’t want strings or do-overs. It should have been the perfect way to spend a night.
And it had been.
The problem was it had left me wanting more.
Watching my little huntress stomp up to me in her midnight dress with her witchy dark eyes flashing outrage had lit me up like a high octane fuel cocktail. Christ, she was amazing.
And now she was my sister-in-law.
Just my fucking luck.
The blare of a horn made me turn toward the road. A boat of a Cadillac was turning on to Main Street. Pure white with the turn radius of a damn semi. I didn’t even know an
yone who drove one of those anymore. Just the bloated, ugly versions that were on the showroom floors now.
New cars were computers with wheels. They had no soul.
I headed back down the pier to the sidewalk and passed the bank, which seemed unnaturally large for such a small town. Then again, if I remembered correctly, it had been decked out for Christmas like it was Park Avenue in New York City. The whole town took on a Hallmark Channel kind of aura.
Even now in the gray, muddy days before spring officially sprung, Main Street in Crescent Cove was like a damn postcard. The storefronts were neatly swept and trash didn’t dare mar the sidewalk.
I ducked into a small coffee shop with virtually no business. A sign was up behind the counter that they were changing from selling java to a wine bar.
Man, even in small town USA, wine was getting popular.
I smiled at the girl behind the counter. “Wine bar, huh?”
“Yes. We started working with a vineyard not far from here to get some local wines in. Hoping to expand as we go. We can’t compete with Brewed Awakening anyway, so we decided to change it up.”
“Great idea.” I glanced out the window. Across the street, there was a café with a line almost out the door. “Glad you’re still doing coffee today. Looks serious over there.”
“It’s always like that.” The pretty blond leaned forward and pitched her voice low. “Even I go over there for coffee.”
“Well, I’ll chance it. Medium dark roast, please.”
“You got it.” She turned away to the coffee canisters on the counter against the wall. I wandered to the large picture window and realized my brother’s garage was right next to the bustling café. I’d walked right on by without giving it a thought.
“Here you are, sir.”
I turned and smiled at the girl. “Thanks. Hey, I have to go see my mom. Any flower shops around here?”
“Actually, yes, just a few doors down.”
I paid for my coffee and tucked an extra five bucks in her tip jar. “Thanks.”
Her eyes brightened. “No, thank you.”
“Good luck with the wine bar. Though you don’t look old enough to sell.”
She played with the strings of her apron. “I’ll be twenty-one next month.”
