“There they are,” Sister said. “Hard at work. Bless their hearts.”
“Morning, ladies,” Quinn said, offering a polite nod as he continued working.
“We just had to stop by,” Sister gushed, her hands fluttering near her chest. “Sissy and I are just tickled pink! Imagine, Mariah Farraday coming back to Tuckers Bluff after all these years. And for a wedding! Oh, how I love weddings!” She clapped her hands together with a sharp, enthusiastic smack.
Sissy bobbed her head, her red hair catching the light. “It’s been far too long since the whole family was gathered under one roof.”
Ryan forced a smile, though the thought of his mother’s impending arrival brought a familiar knot to his stomach. “We were pretty surprised ourselves.”
Sister’s expression softened. “It’s been a long time coming, her making the trip down. Your daddy must be over the moon.”
“He sounded…hopeful.” Ryan tried to smile. “We’re all still waiting to see if it actually happens. So far, it’s just ink on a page.”
“Ink on a page is where most good stories start.” Sissy grinned at him. “And how lovely it will be to have your entire family together for such a wonderful event.” She turned slightly, looking toward the church steeple peeking over the rooftops. “Weddings bring out the best in folks.”
“Oh, how I love weddings,” Sister added, giving her hands a little pleased slap. “New dresses, happy tears, cake you don’t have to bake yourself…”
“And gossip you don’t have to feel guilty about,” Sissy finished.
Sister waved a hand dismissively. “We’ve already started freshening up the Violet Room at the B&B. Only the best for your mama.” She checked a small watch pinned to her blouse and gasped. “Oh, look at the time, Sissy. We’ve got to get back to Tuckers Bluff. I want to be there when the new shipment arrives. You know how things got completely confused when we let Maribel sign for it.”
“Heavens, yes,” Sissy agreed. “You boys keep up the good work. We want this town looking like a postcard by the time Mariah gets here!” They hurried off, their chatter trailing behind them like a colorful kite tail.
Ryan watched them go, his hand tightening on the roller handle. About to return to work, he noticed the door of the Mercantile open and heard Nicole’s cheerful greeting as the ladies came to a stop on the old wooden sidewalk.
Her tool belt low on her hips and a pencil tucked behind her ear, Nicole looked completely professional and somehow, totally irresistible. Standing by the two older women who were as much a part of Sadieville as they were Tuckers Bluff, the three women chatted a minute. Hands moving, he couldn’t hear the words, but he could hear the laughter. Even at this distance, he could see that genuine, easy smile that Ryan had spent most of the morning trying not to think about. When she laughed at something Sister said, Ryan found himself following the movement of her shoulders.
The conversation drew to a close and with more smiles and a wave, the sisters headed down the road toward their truck. For a moment, Nicole watched them go.
Ryan meant to go back to the wall. He really did. Instead, his gaze snagged on Nicole as she stood silhouetted with the sun, catching the loose strands of hair around her face. At the base of the boardwalk steps, still tracking the sisters’ departure, she shook her head with a soft smile like she wasn’t sure what to make of them, and turned toward the livery.
Not wanting to be caught watching her, he turned, taking a quick step out of the doorway. His feet shifted as he continued to watch her while he reached for the paint tray to reload his roller. He didn’t bother to look down. His boot hit the edge of the plastic tray with a dull thud. His weight shifted, and for a second, he was balanced on one leg like a clumsy heron. He tried to correct, but his heel came down right in the middle of the shallow pool of clear sealer. His foot shot forward, sliding across the slick concrete floor of the livery. For a split second,time stretched—roller tilting, clear liquid arcing through the air, Quinn’s eyes going wide.
Ryan jerked back on instinct. The tray landed upside down with a wet smack, most of the mess miraculously staying off the siding and on the drop cloth. A small wave of sealer splashed across the toe of his boot. He stared at it, then blew out a breath, catching a glimpse of Quinn’s amused grin. “Not a word, big brother. Not a one.”
Eyes wide, hands up in the air, Quinn plastered on a coy expression. “Haven’t said anything.”
“Keep it that way.”
At that moment Nicole strode into the livery, her gaze immediately dropping to the mess on the floor.
Before Ryan could say a word, Quinn turned to her and simply said, “Don’t ask.”
The sharp, chemical scent of wood sealer hit Nicole before her eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the livery. A wad of rags in one hand, Ryan was on his knees frantically scrubbing at a glossy, clear puddle that had expanded across the gray concrete. The paint tray lay upside down a few feet away, its metal rim glinting like a guilty witness.
“Looks like the floor is officially protected.” Nicole stepped carefully around a stray splash. “What happened?”
“Don’t ask,” Quinn called over his shoulder.
Ryan shot his brother a look that could’ve stripped paint. “Just a little accident.”
“Uh-huh.” Nicole grabbed a roll of heavy-duty paper towels and knelt beside him. “Move over. You’re just smearing it around.”
His hand brushed hers. For a heartbeat, the only sound in the livery was the rhythmic, distant thump of Quinn’s roller on the far wall. Ryan’s gaze traveled from their overlapping hands up to her face, his blue eyes dark with a look that was part embarrassment and part something far more intense. Nicole felt her pulse give a sharp, erratic kick. The air in the small room suddenly felt twice as heavy as the August humidity outside.
“You don’t have to.” He breathed softly.
“I know.” She dabbed at a stubborn streak along the edge. They worked side by side, the silence easy except for the soft slap of rags against concrete. Quinn stayed quiet, focused on his section of wall like his life depended on even coverage.
