Sheryn snorted. “That man couldn’t find his socks without texting me a picture of his drawer.”
Paul chuckled, clearly satisfied. “What are you ladies after today? I can help you track it down.”
“Oh, we’re just browsing, Paul,” I said, waving him off. “We promise not to rearrange your shelves too much.”
A pair of women from the paint aisle wandered over, drawn by either the baby or the gossip. Possibly both.
“He’s got the Lucas look, alright,” one said, peeking into the stroller with a knowing grin.
“Let’s just hope he gets Elia’s good sense,” the other added with a wink.
I smirked. “And Claire’s patience. Kid’s gonna need it.”
They all laughed, and Dylan waved a little fist in agreement.
We wandered into the fasteners aisle, scanning for a couple of screws to fix Noah’s nightstand—the one that was supposed to be new but wobbled like its days were numbered.
“I swear, the legs on that thing are allergic to balance,” I muttered.
Sheryn smirked. “Maybe it’s just following Noah’s lead. Solid most of the time, but give it a reason, and it leans.”
I elbowed her. “Noah’s not leaning. He’s perfectly upright.”
“Sure,” she said. “Until someone breathes near him.”
I held up a pack of screws. “These look promising. If this doesn’t work, I’m filing for furniture divorce.”
She snorted. “Better get custody of the lamp.”
Laughing, I tossed them into the basket. We loaded up on a few more bits and pieces before moving toward the register.
Annette, Paul’s daughter, was manning the cashier station. She had cropped hair, sharp cheekbones, and an air of calm competence that never wavered, even when Dylan launched into his happy squeals from the stroller.
My phone buzzed just as she was bagging up my purchase. She barely looked up, but I nodded in thanks and tucked the bag under my arm.
“Hey, cowboy,” I said, answering the call.
“Hey, Blue. Where are ya?”
“At Paul’s. We’re finally fixing that wonky nightstand of yours.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like hard labor. Think you’ve earned a fat, sweet milkshake? Maybe with crispy waffles on the side?”
My stomach practically sang. “Hell yeah. Milkshake and waffles, I’m in!”
Behind me, Sheryn must’ve caught enough to get the gist. “For me too?” she called out, loud enough that Noah heard through the line.
“Of course,” he said.
Dylan let out a loud coo from the stroller.
Noah’s tone gave way. “Oh hey, little guy! Maya taking good care of you?”
“Pretty sure I’m the town’s main attraction with him in tow.”
“He’s got that kind of pull,” Noah said, a smile in his voice. “Meet me at the park?”
“Already on my way.”
