“It’s basically all commissions. And then I’ll craft pieces between those projects to sell at fairs and stuff in the summer when I’m doing little demos like I will here.” Quinn stacked her hands on top of her head. “And, y’know, sometimes I’ll swing out this way to do the occasional television spot when a talk show is looking to shake things up. But, yeah—the bulk of my work is done in my shop back in Mystic.”
“And where’s that?”
Quinn let her hands fall to her sides. It wasn’t a gesture of defeat, exactly, but it may as well have been considering the distance between Newport and Mystic. “Northern Minnesota.”
Disappointment flashed in Nora’s eyes, though she hid it quickly. “I’m guessing Southern California in December was a pretty easy sell, then, huh?”
“It will be from now on,” Quinn confirmed, her tone a little too warm to be construed as anything but flirtatious.
Thankfully, judging by Nora’s smile and the way her cheeks pinked prettily, she didn’t seem to mind. “Mm, and why’s that?”
There was a boldness in Nora’s gaze that dared her to answer truthfully, and Quinn reached out to caress the back of Nora’s hand. Her stomach fluttered at the way Nora’s hand turned ever so slightly into hers, as if to capture it and hold it tight, and she stared into the variegated mosaic of Nora’s eyes as she confessed, “Because it’d mean I might get to run into you again.”
“Woof!”
Wow. Thanks, bud. Excellent timing.Quinn frowned at Fort. “And you, I guess. Even though you tried to steal my skateboard.”
Fort huffed a little bark and grinned at her.
Quinn gave his head a vigorous scratch. “Yeah. You’re pretty cute, too, I guess.”
“Too?” Nora asked, sounding pleased.
Quinn laughed. “I don’t even know your last name, and you’re fishing for compliments?”
“It’s Kile. And, always.”
“Well, Nora Kile,” Quinn teased, “you come back to watch me go at that chunk of oak later, and we’ll see what happens.”
“Oh? And what time will you be doing that?” Nora sassed.
Quinn grinned and checked her watch. Flirting with Nora wasn’t the smartest thing in the world, but damned if it wasn’t fun. “Forty-five minutes. I will be wowing the crowd when the market opens at four o’clock for the next four days.”
“Confident,” Nora murmured. “I like that.” She inclined her head as she carefully hung the ornament she’d been holding the whole time back on its display. “Perhaps I’ll see you later, then.”
“Can’t wait.”
Nora smiled. “Me neither.”
Organizing a chainsaw carving demonstration at a holiday market was always tricky because a revving chainsaw didn’t exactly add to the cheery holiday mood. So when Quinn arrived at the area set aside for her demonstration, she was pleased to find that there were at least a good fifty people clustered around the ropes that’d been set out to keep observers at a safe distance.
Not bad for four o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon.
Despite parting ways on a decidedly flirty note earlier, Quinn’s stomach swooped like she’d missed a step going downstairs when she spotted Nora standing at the front of the roped-off gallery. Nora must have gone home after they’d parted because Fort was notably absent from her side, and even though the temps were still in the high sixties, she’d changed from her shorts to jeans and added a lightweight hoodie that was tied around her waist.
An anticipatory thrill rippled through Quinn as she realized that the hoodie meant Nora was planning on hanging around for a while, and she couldn’t resist throwing her a wink as she put a little extra swagger into her step.
If I’m going to be a dumbass and flirt with a woman I have no business flirting with, I may as well put my whole dumb ass into it.
Judging by the way Nora laughed and even rewarded her with a little wave, the whole-dumb-ass approach was clearly the way to go.
Before she could figure out where that way was headed, though, she had a job to do first. She lifted her idling saw over her head with her right hand and pointed her face shield at the crowd with her left as she announced in a booming voice, “Welcome to the North Star Sculpting demonstration!” She paused for the obligatory round of applause before continuing, “My name’s Quinn Haavik, and I’ll be the crazy person trying to turn this chunk of wood”—she tapped the section of oak with her face shield—“into something cool.” That brought forth cheers and a louder wave of applause, and she grinned as she let the saw fall to her side. “All right, here we go…”
She slapped on her face shield and revved her saw as she turned to her canvas for the night. Though she’d already planned out what she was going to do with this particular piece—she would be doing a different sculpture each night she was out here—she circled the stump slowly as she slipped in her earplugs and looked for the perfect place to start.
That place, unsurprisingly, was where she was facing Nora, and she held her gaze as she fired up her saw. A cocked brow and awell, get on with itsmirk set her to work, and Quinn chuckled to herself as she made that first, all-important cut.
At moments like these, she was, above all else, a performer, and she put those skills to use as she moved around the stump, slicing and carving away layers of wood with deft flicks upward and steady, measured pulls down. Slowly but surely, the shape of a seahorse began to emerge, and though she was aware of the way various people in the crowd pointed at the project when they’d figured out what she was doing, what little attention she could divert to things other than the path of her saw, was reserved for Nora.
