I love the way she laughs at me. Love the way her delectable, curvy body cuddles right into my chest as she hugs me hard.
“I’m sorry, gorgeous, but I’d better say goodnight fast before I invite myself in.”
She smirks. "Aunt Blaire told me that she had cameras everywhere, so she'd know for sure that I was here all weekend. You know…since I was grounded and all."
I glance around. "You don't believe her?"
"Not a bit."
"I hate that you're working and living with someone who lies to you like that."
"Yeah. Me too."
She picks up her bag from the ground. "Anyway, I should go make sure it's clean but also looks like I've been there all weekend. It'll just be easier."
"Okay. Text me if you need anything." I gently kiss the back of her hand. "And I do mean anything."
Her soft smile lights up the center of my heart. Then she's gone.
I've barely driven five minutes out of town when I get a phone call. I don't normally take calls in the truck, even though I have the hands-free set up. But in this case, I have to.
“Hey, Mom, what's up?"
"What's up?!" she practically shrieks. My thumb darts out to turn the volume down. "You were seen kissing a girl at a restaurant. Who is she?"
I nearly choke and have to clear my throat twice. "How did you hear I was on a date?”
"Thane. He heard it from somebody at the gas station."
Crap.
“You know how I feel about gossip, Mom. I have to go, I’m driving. Talk to you later?”
I hate hanging up on her but I really can’t have that conversation unless I’m face to face. If someone told my brother of all people, that means people are actually talking.
That means that Hanna's aunt is going to find out we’re spending every available minute together. I hope that doesn't make her lash out at my sweet girlfriend.
Girlfriend.I love the feeling of that word, but don't know if I have the right to use it yet.
12
HANNA
I’ve learned that nobody buys shoes on Monday mornings, unless it's an emergency. Apart from one woman who came in on her coffee break desperately needing a new pair of black pumps for work since the ones she was wearing were killing her, it’s been nothing but people browsing, passing time before an appointment.
I run the duster around the shelves, making sure to loop through the front of the store so that people realize we’re open. My hands go through the motions, my mind in a distracted fog. I still can't believe this weekend happened.
The more I pace, the more I wonder. What is my long-term plan here, anyway?
Most of my life has been spent getting pushed around by my parents. Every time I mention a goal, they tell me it's wrong, not good enough, or too expensive to pursue.
Knox has had a very different upbringing, and another decade to figure out who he is. Not having to work a day job…wow, paradise. He helps the community because he wants to. He makes coffee tables, end tables and shelving because he enjoysit. The way he blends different tones and designs intricate wood patterns across the top of tables is pure art.
Looking around the latest displays I’ve made around the shop and in the front windows, I’m forced to admit that I must have at least a few creative bones in my body myself. Many people have commented that it’s much easier to find the newest shoes now. Plus, even though I still have to swallow down my nervousness, I can chat to people about the weather, their outfit, or the latest styles these days. Anything to make the switch from salesperson to buddy. I learned that in a book about sales techniques.
Last week I snuck a peek at the weekly figures and was pleased to see how much sales have increased since I’ve been here. Not just with shoes: I always notice if people have worn laces or walk in a way that suggests insoles might help.
Blaire never thinks to ask people about things like that because she doesn’t care about anyone except herself. Shoot, I’m dreading her arrival so much that my shoulders are locking up already.
