“Huh,” I say. “It’s pretty cool she’s putting a record shop on the street.”
Lucy makes a small noise beside me. “Oh, it’s more than that. It’s a—” She stops herself, a grin spreading across her face. “Actually, no. I’m going to wait. You can walk in and see it for yourself.”
I glance at her. “You’re being suspicious.”
“I’m being fun,” she corrects. “Trust me, Juliette is going to be frothing at the mouth over this.”
I laugh. “Juliette froths at the mouth over anything that even remotely fits her aesthetic.”
“Exactly,” Lucy says. “So just imagine.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling. Juliette is our resident plant whisperer, and somehow the center of more things than she probably realizes. She might be back in town by now or still off somewhere with Sawyer. Who, of course, plays hockey on theDominion because, apparently, that’s how things work around here.
I glance down the street again, taking it all in—the shops, the people, the steady hum of a place that somehow manages to feel both small and full at the same time.
“I swear,” I say, half to myself, “it’s like I closed my eyes and now everyone around here is involved with hockey in some way.”
Lucy laughs. “You’re just noticing that now?”
“Hey, I was minding my own business until yesterday,” I say. “Now I’m apparently involved, too.”
“How?” she asks.
“We have a client,” I say. “She’s got me doing team bonding sessions with her girls.”
Lucy’s brows lift. “Really?”
“Yep. Really.” I echo. “But the thing is, her brother is Ty.”
“McCade?” Lucy stops in her tracks. “Ty McCade’s sister has you working with her team?”
Not where I was leading, but we’ll work with it. “Yeah, she does.”
“She’s a legend, you know that, right?” Lucy shakes her head. “My family always pointed to theirs, saying to watch the McCade kids, they’re the ones who are always on fire on the ice.”
And somehow, with the conversation on Ty, I fall into an easy spiral in my mind. Thinking of the way he stood there in my shop: completely calm while everything was very much not calm, his hand flexing, causing a ripple effect up his arm. I wonder if he knows how insane and gorgeous his biceps are, because I do.
I shake the thought off almost immediately.
“Anyway,” I say, nodding at the door in front of us. “Should we go in?”
Lucy pushes the door open, and the first thing that hits is themusic. It’s warm, low, something with a steady rhythm that welcomes anyone entering into the space like an old friend.
I step inside and pause for a second, taking it in. It’s cool. Not in the overdone, trying-too-hard way. More of an effortless vibe.
In the first room, the one you walk into, records line one wall in neat rows, sleeves facing out like artwork. Across from it, bookshelves stretch up toward the ceiling, a mix of worn spines and newer titles, layered in a way that feels curated without being precious about it. They wind into a second space, filled with more shelves and stacked with even more books. And tucked into the corner of that room is a small coffee bar, all warm wood and dim lighting, the smell of espresso weaving through everything else.
It’s the kind of place you wander into for a minute and somehow lose an hour. Maybe even two.
“Okay,” I say under my breath, glancing around again. “This is very cool.”
Lucy smiles beside me, like she knew exactly what my reaction would be. She cups her hands around her mouth slightly and calls out, “Eva!”
There’s a beat, and then she appears from behind one of the shelves, stepping into view like she’s been part of the place all along. Eva is all smiles. This is the kind of woman who walks down the street and has no idea the wake she leaves behind her. A little rock-and-roll, a little ethereal, but all love and light.
Her honey-blonde mane is flowing loose and a little wild, her outfit the kind of thrown-together that somehow looks intentional, and there’s an energy about her that fills the space without trying. One look at her and I immediately understand the term “Bohemian goddess” because this woman is the epitome.
Where I tend to lean polished, pulled together, she’s the opposite in the best way—easy, open, like she’s in on something the rest of us are just catching up to.
