Page 63 of Hats off to Love

The woman pulls her eyes off the fascinator wall and looks at him. Her eyes widen as she clearly recognizes him, and Molly snickers next to me.

“Ah, let me know if I can help you with anything,” he tells her, and then he turns to us and scowls at how much humor we are finding at his expense. Oh, I’ve missed that scowl. I haven’t really seen it in a while.

I give him a thumbs-up and mouth, “Way to go!”

He rolls his eyes.

Over the next hour, business picks up significantly. Now I’m not sure if word spread that he was in the store today or if the Saturday before the Derby is always going to be this busy, but whatever the case, we are packed. Thankfully it’s busy in a way that means people aren’t super stressed but instead are having a good time. We crank up the music and proceed to have the best day. Stokes remains at the hat wall and is surrounded most of the day, while Molly and I work fluidly side by side helping people with the fascinators, wrapping up purchased items, and serving tea.

“Do you think he’s having fun, or do you think he’s miserable?” I ask Molly as we both stare at him.

“Who cares?” She laughs. “I’m having fun watching him squirm while trying to politely charm these women into buying things.”

“This is true.”

Feeling that we must be talking about him, he looks our way and his eyes find mine. They go from curious to heated in point two seconds flat. Whereas his laser beams used to want to incinerate me to dust, now they are burning me up in an entirely different way. My stomach clenches, and next to me, Molly gags.

Whatever. I should remind her that it wasn’t too long ago when she was championing her brother and wanting us to happen, but I don’t. Instead, I give him a wink and mouth, “Thank you.”

For lunch, Austin saves the day. He picks up sandwiches then sticks around for an hour to help out while we each eat. He takes photos of people at the photo wall, makes Molly laugh, and adds to the vibe of the store. Molly takes a ton of photos for social media and several videos of Stokes, Austin, and me, and all the while, my cup isn’t just running over—it isn’t even big enough to hold all the feels I have, feelings that are topped off with grateful and blessed.

At one point a young woman asks if Stokes would take a picture with her, and he frowns and says no. I can’t help but laugh at his discomfort and offer to be in the photo with them. The woman immediately agrees, and he just stands there grimacing the whole time. She leans on him and he leans on me. If it wasn’t so comical, I would feel bad for him.

Stokes also gets to witness firsthand how strong the gossip can be, from who’s dating who to drama in the workplace and family matters. He even heard two women talking about a horse named Dream Catcher that would no longer be running in the Oaks. He didn’t specifically hear what was wrong with her, but another horse suddenly falling out of the race left both of us feeling suspicious.

To my knowledge, nothing has happened out at the farm. Then again, Stokes and Grayson have had it on a strict lockdown.

“Today was fun,” he tells me as he leans against the counter and I finish closing out the sales for the day. It was by far the shop’s biggest day to date. I’ve never been one of those people who wait until the last minute to buy things, and I’m shocked by the number of people who flooded into the store to buy a hat one week out from the Derby. It’s also left me so barren on inventory it’s funny. The wedding counter is full, but the rest of the store looks like I am going out of business. Maybe tomorrow while Stokes is at the farm, I can make a few more items just in case.

“It really was. Thank you again for being here.” I glance over at him and watch as he loosens the tie around his neck and undoes the top button.

Molly left about two hours ago. She wanted to spend the rest of the day with Austin, and with Stokes here, she really didn’t need to be.

“Can I repay you with dinner tonight? I can cook something or we can order in,” I ask as I admire his throat. He’s running his fingers underneath his collar to pull it away from his skin.

“I say we order in and get you off your feet. Also, I’m buying,” he states like there’s no discussion about it.

“What? No way. I want to say thank you for helping me.” I power down the computer and face him.

“You already have. Besides, I told you earlier, today is about me being there for you.” He moves to stand in front of me, and I lean back against the counter and look up at him.

How does a girl get used to this? Get used to him? Every speck of my being is aware of how close he is, how overly masculine he is with long limbs and layers of muscle, and how just his presence makes me giddy.

“I really like the way you dress,” I tell him as I run my hand up his chest, the warmth of his skin pressing back against his shirt to greet me.

“What?” he asks with a chuckle.

Heat climbs into my cheeks as I move my hands and run them down his arms. The fabric is soft, and it fits him perfectly.

I shrug. “You just always look so nice.” And he does, so nice he’s like a pretty package, and I’d like to peel these clothes off of him one piece at a time.

Picking me up, he places me on the counter next to my computer and steps between my legs. Today I’m wearing a cute little denim dress with brown cowgirl boots.

“Thank you,” he says, tipping my chin up then running his thumb over my bottom lip. “You are so beautiful.” My heart stutters at his words.

Stokes’s eyes trail across my face and then to my hair. They pause on my head, and subconsciously my hand drifts to the fascinator I’m wearing to see if it’s in place, or maybe just to pull it off. He reaches for my wrist to stop me.

“Don’t do that,” he says gently.