“They’ve got the best lemon bars you’ve ever tasted.”
I lick my lips, and her eyes track the gesture. Moving a stray hair off her forehead, I respond, “You got me over a barrel with that one. I do love a good lemon bar.”
It’s probably a little too personal, touching her like this, but I’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself around her. Thankfully, we leave before I can wax poetic about her soft-looking lips.
Taking her forest-green Ford Ranger, we quickly make our way to the town center. There’s a game I like to play with myself while I’m on the road, figuring out why someone would choose to live in a particular town.
Obviously, most places are about familial and community ties. This place clearly has that in spades, but the bonus is the physical beauty of the area and the adorably laid-out downtown.
“I’ll stop by the pharmacy first. It’s a few doors down from the coffee shop, and I think Mrs. Bridgelock would appreciate some lemon bars. We can kill two birds with one stone.”
I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
Kinley parks in front of the pharmacy, which looks like an old-fashioned apothecary.
“Stay here, and don’t try to get out by yourself,” she commands, pointing her finger at my nose.
I snap my teeth at her, and she squeals, retracting her hand.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Shaking her head, she goes around the truck and opens the door for me. It’s already easier getting out of her truck than out of Ed’s because it’s lower to the ground. To her credit, Kinley doesn’t try to manhandle me. She merely stands there with an arm out in front of her, something I can grab if needed. I ignore the flare of annoyance at needing anyone’s help because I’m pretty sure that’s just my brain being an asshole. Instead, I focus on the fact that she’s been nothing but generous and kind to me this whole time.
Thankfully, I don’t make too much of an ass of myself as I exit the vehicle. The sidewalk, however, is a little challenging, and I nearly bite it when my cane catches on a piece of uneven concrete. Kinley grabs my waist and steadies me, probably because she’s the kind of person who won’t ever let someone hit the ground.
“You can put your hand on my shoulder for balance if you’d like,” she says, and I decide she’s right. When we walk into the pharmacy, I place my hand on her lower back and step closer as other people pass us.
Great, now I’m the one who’s breathing heavily.
I refocus on the environment, impressed by the space. It’s framed with stained wood shelving and an old apothecary hutch as the checkout counter. The pharmacist comes up in a white coat, her hair in a long blonde braid over her shoulder.
“Kinley! Haven’t seen you in a hot minute! Who’s your girlfriend?”
Kinley immediately shakes her head, and I realize my hand is still on her lower back. I remove it and step to the side.
“I’m not her girlfriend, just a little unsteady on my feet,” I say, wondering if that answer applies in more ways than one. I mean, doesn’t that feel like my life right now? Untethered, unbalanced, and unsure.
More to the point, I’m suddenly and acutely aware that the idea of being Kinley’s girlfriend doesn’t send me into a panic. Actually, it sounds about eight kinds of wonderful. Impossible, given our schedules and locations, but wonderful.
I stick my hand out. “I’m Mac. I’m only in town for a little while.”
The woman’s eyes open in recognition. “Mackenzie Nash! That’s right. I heard you had to cancel the rest of your tour. I was glad I got to see you in concert. You are so good.”
I dip my chin. “Thank you so much. I’m recovering out at Kinley’s hunting cabin.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
The pharmacist turns to Kinley. “See! Everybody said you had the perfect setup for vacation rentals.”
“It’s not a vacation rental, Martha. I just spruced up Dad’s old cabin. Besides, there are plenty of rentals in this town. It seems like everybody’s doing the vacation rental thing these days.”
“Actually, we’ve got close to a hundred percent capacity most weekends during skiing season, and it only goes down to seventy-five, maybe eighty percent in the summer.”
Kinley bites her bottom lip. “Huh. Don’t think I knew that.”
“Just saying. You’ve got Mason renting out the top floor of your place and Ms. Nash renting out your father’s cabin…you’re already halfway there.”
