“So what?” Blue said to Zoe.
“You could bring in stuff and make it a space to start your business.”
“That is if I wanted a business—which I don’t because I’ll be heading back to New York soon, so thank you for thinking of me, but no thanks.”
She told herself she meant those words, but as she looked at the space, that little spark of excitement flared brighter. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost her enthusiasm for what she loved. She’d just been going through the motions.
Blue had told herself over and over how much she loved what she did, but it had taken walking away for her to re-evaluate that.
The cutthroat world of fashion wasn’t for the faint-hearted. Blue was tough and strong—resilient. Lately, however, she’d been feeling jaded.
“She’s thinking about it,” Zoe said.
She was, but the prospect of starting up was a daunting one, and Blue wasn’t sure she had the capital or smarts to do it, especially here in Lyntacky, where there wasn’t a huge clientele. But she could start small and take her business online.
“Are we done?”
“Don’t lie to me, I can see the excitement in your eyes,” Phoebe said, clapping her hands.
She didn’t add anything to that, simply turned and walked out of the shop, because her friend was right, she did feel excited. She also felt the nausea again that she’d not been able to get rid of since her illness.
Chapter 8
Work had always been Jay’s sole focus, but since Blue’s return to Lyntacky, he was struggling to give it his all. He alternated between wanting to avoid her and needing to see her.
Should he ask Blue out on a date so they could get to know each other? But then if he did that here, everyone would know, and suddenly a single date would come with complications. Would she even say yes if he did?
“Get it together,” he muttered, stomping into the kitchen for his fifth cup of coffee for the day.
He was intelligent and usually could work through problems with ease, but Blue was not something he could solve. Now that she was closer, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Jay looked at the door as he heard the loud thud of feet outside. It then swung open, and there stood two of the Duke brothers. Sawyer was in the lead, and behind him came Brody.
“There’s this custom called knocking. You guys should give it a try,” Jay said, looking back down at his screen. He saved the spreadsheet he was working on and then shut it down.
“We don’t knock with family,” Sawyer said in his growly voice.
Even years after his life had taken a turn for the better, he still felt a small warm buzz of heat in his chest when he heard a Duke call him family.
“So move it, bud. We got beers to drink,” Brody said.
He, like Sawyer, wore jeans and a T-shirt. Sawyer’s had the logo of their timber yard, and Brody’s was plain gray.
“Did you brush your hair and oil your beard today, Sawyer?” Jay asked, putting his laptop on the table before him.
“No.”
Brody clearly didn’t believe that and tested Jay’s theory by tugging on his brother’s chin hair. Sawyer cuffed him across the head.
“Yup, definitely beard oil. That’s Birdie’s influence.”
“Fuck off,” Sawyer muttered. “Get moving, Jay.”
“What am I moving to?”
“Boys’ night.”
“I have work to do. You guys go on, and I’ll join you later,” Jay said.
