Chapter 2
Juniper
Most definitely not Todd.
Not in the slightest.
Todd wishes he looked like this. Literally, if Todd was given three wishes, one of them would be to look like this guy. Though, he’d probably say he looked like him in his younger days, but what old man doesn’t say that about themselves?
The man in the doorway gives me a crooked smile, dimple showing against his angular jaw. I don’t know if it’s his pale eyes or the chilled breeze from the open doors that prompts goosebumps down my spine.
“No. Not Todd. Unless that’s who you’d prefer I be,” he replies.
Words seem to roll off his tongue like velvet—soft and warm.
Rich and comforting. His straight black hair falls messily into his eyes as he glances me over.
Watching him take me in is excruciating.
It feels as if he’s peeling my clothes off inch by inch.
I can’t move, can’t even bring myself to straighten my shirt or run a hand through my wavy green hair.
“Ah…” I’m stammering, and it’s one of my more embarrassing displays of stammering, too. Which is saying a lot.
His eyes shift toward Pack, who’s still whining and yapping. I expect him to move back or at least appear phased by her antics, yet he pushes his hands into his pockets and smiles at her.
“Hey, girl,” he says to her. “Is she a Heeler?”
“Yeah. She doesn’t usually do this much barking, though,” I say as she jumps like she wants to go to him. I bend down to scratch her head again. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” I keep telling her.
It’s a few more seconds before Pack snorts and eventually sits, and I sigh in relief.
Thank fuck.
She never barks like this.
“Sorry about that,” I say, looking in his direction again.
His hands are out of his pockets now, long fingers rubbing together like he’s warming them up from the cold. “No worries. Dogs usually bark at me the first time we meet. I’m Nick.”
Nick.
Why do I know that name?
“Juni,” I reply automatically.
“Juni…” There’s a twinge of delight in his eyes that makes me squirm. He repeats my name again, drawing out the syllables as if he’s deciding if he likes the taste.
“What’s that short for?” he asks.
I give him a look and turn on my heel to head behind the bar.
“Are you always this nosey?” I ask.
He chuckles under his breath. “Rarely.”
“Oh?”
Three feet of bar top and back counter between us, along with something to do with my hands, is what I need to calm my nerves. If he comes any closer, I’ll forget how to think.
I toss Pack a bone from inside her treat jar, and she curls up into her bed by the Christmas tree to occupy her time.
“I only take a genuine interest in things that intrigue me,” he tells me.
“And am I a thing that intrigues you?” I tease, grabbing a bar towel and the cleaning spray.
The corner of his lip draws up higher as if by a string. “Tattooed women wearing spiked combat boots and Home Alone sweatshirts usually do. Especially beautiful ones.”
My brows lift. “Wow,” I say, jaw clenched to keep from snorting.
He steps past the threshold, head hanging when he laughs. “Too much?”
“Specific.”
I hate how adorable the look in his eyes is right now.
His inked neck visibly bobs when our eyes meet again.
I’m forced to clear my throat as a heat rises up my chest. It’s hard not to stare.
He looks like the embodiment of winter. Pale skin, frosted eyes, black hair.
Like he was born in a snowstorm and had to melt the ice around him to break free.
He doesn’t look like he belongs in a beach town.
I would expect to see him walking alone down a dark city street in the dead of winter, outside a gothic church, or modeling the latest cold, piney fragrance in a magazine ad.
What exactly he’s doing here is beyond me.
“It’s Juniper,” I eventually tell him. “My name.”
“Juniper…”
I try not to let my eyes flutter with the way he says it.
“I like that,” he decides.
“I’m glad you approve.”
Nick chuckles, and as he does, his hair falls into his soft eyes again.
Focus.
“So… Um… what are you doing in my bar, Nick? I doubt the Christmas Santa at the end of the steps intrigued you that much,” I decide to say.
A scoff leaves him as he looks around. “I came looking for Dani. Is she around?”
Nick.
Nick.
Oh, wait. Nick.
“You’re the artist,” I realize.
How the hell did Marge not mention how hot he is when she was working last week on the day he painted the mural?
His smile widens as he reaches the barstools. “So you do know me.”
“Didn’t she just text you like five minutes ago?” I ask.
“Five. Three.” He shrugs. “I was on the beach. Easy commute.”
Nick’s brows knit together when he strokes a finger on the statue of North’s horns. “That’s… an interesting likeness. Not many of the displays in town have the horns.”
“Or the forked tongue,” I say with a nod to the other one.
Nick’s eyes darken when he looks at the sculpture of Blaze. His mouth quirks higher, and a deep, hoarse laugh radiates from him. “This definitely doesn’t make the kid-friendly cut.”
“Not at all. But they’re a Hudson family tradition. We bring them out of storage every year around this time, especially for the festival.”
“Is Hudson your family?” Nick asks.
“Jasmine’s. Her grandparents owned this place. She bought it from them about a decade ago,” I explain. “Speaking of…” I grab my phone out of my pocket and send a text to the group chat.
So… None of you were going to mention how hot the artist guy is? We were just letting me walk into that trap?
A loud laugh echoes from behind the kitchen door, and I know Jasmine has at least read the message.
Jasmine
Girl.
Dani
Is he here already?
Jasmine
I told Dani you would like him.
Marge
I could eat him with sugar.
I grit my teeth to keep from smiling outright at Marge’s comment.
So keeping his hotness a secret was deliberate?
Jasmine
Yes.
Dani
Jasmine’s idea
Marge
I wanted to keep him for myself
Do you want him to come back later or do you have time to talk to him now?
Dani
I’ll be out in a few.
Marge
Tell him I get off at nine, come back then.
I can’t hold in my laughter this time.
“I like laughing,” Nick says, and I smile at him.
I’m not sure what it is that has me feeling as if I already know him. Someone this beautiful… I’d remember.
“Dani will be out soon. She’s just taking a break in the back,” I say.
Nick gazes around the room again, his long, tattooed fingers gripping the lip of the bar as he swings back slightly. “What is the project?”
I grab some napkins out of the bulk and begin placing some in the empty containers. “Two magical winter demons.”
He peers at me surprised. “These?” He takes the Blaze one into his hands and peruses it over as if taking a deeper inspection this time. “1908,” he reads, squinting at the date on the bottom. “Shit, is this thing toxic?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying. The paint on the tongue luge has started chipping,” I explain.
“Do you serve drinks out of this?” he asks.
I eye him, realizing that if I said that in front of a health inspector, we’d be fucked. “No… I never said that,” I say, slowly sliding the statue back in my direction.
Nick’s jaw flexes as if he’s trying to hide his amusement. “I’ll fix it,” he promises, picking North up. “No more toxic drinks.”
There’s a stark difference in the way he looks at it versus the Blaze one. Enough of a difference that it makes me curious.
“You don’t like North?” I ask.
“I’ve always been more of a Blaze fan myself,” he says as he sets it back onto the counter. “What about you?”
“I don’t have a preference,” I reply.
“No? I thought everyone on this island had a preference.”
“Are you from here?” I ask, confused.
“Ah…” He chuckles. “Well, I—”
The kitchen door swings wide, revealing Danielle and Jasmine, each one’s grin larger than the last.
They’re the fucking worst.
“Oh, Nick!” Jasmine announces. “Hi!”
Nick straightens upon seeing them. “Hey.”
Danielle holds her fist out for him to bump, which he does, and says a quick, “How’s it going?” to him before settling on the other side of me.
“It’s good. Juni was just telling me about the paint job,” he replies.
“Oh, you met our Juni then. That’s great. Great. So what else did you two talk about? Did she tell you she also enjoys art?” Jasmine asks him.
My face furls in her direction. “What, are you my overbearing aunt?”
Nick looks like he’s holding laughter. “So, you enjoy art?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Jeez, Jas,” I say, shaking my head. “Way to give everything away. Art. That was going to be our entire conversation. Now we’re back to square one.”
“Nothing left to discuss,” Nick jokes along with me. “I guess we could talk about music next.”
“Ah, well, it has to be the kind with a beat.”
“Of course. The foundation has to be there,” Nick agrees.
“And we’re officially out of things to talk about now.”
“You forgot weather,” Nick reminds me.
“Ah. Yes, the weather is nice today. A little chilly in the shade,” I reply.
“Up and down weather… Some might say the twins are in town,” Nick says.
“See?” Jasmine slaps my arm. “He believes in magic.”
I sigh as I peer across the bar at Nick again. “Now you’re part of the problem.”
Nick grins at me before shifting his gaze to Jasmine. “She doesn’t believe in them?”
“No. Talk some sense into her when you take her out,” she says with a wink.
“What—”
“She’d have to say yes to a date first,” Nick replies, his eyes on me again.
Jasmine and Danielle both look at me, brows lifted, and my heartbeat begins to pound as I glance between them and Nick. “What? I’m not talking about this in front of you two. Go away. And you, you’re a distraction.”
Nick chuckles as he grabs the North sculpture. “When do you need these back by?” he asks us.
“Any chance you could do three days?” Danielle asks.
He nods and lifts the Blaze sculpture under his other arm. “Yeah, no worries. I have another job to finish this afternoon and can start on them tomorrow.”
Jasmine lifts an empty dish rack to take to the back. “Thanks, Nick!” she says, turning to go back into the kitchen.
“Just text me and let me know how much we owe you,” Danielle says.
“Will do.” Nick pauses and considers me once more, and I shift under his gaze, breath catching in my throat. He slowly begins walking backward, somehow surefooted as he moves around the chair I had been standing in earlier.
“Think about it,” he says.
“About what?”
“Where you want to go on our date.”
My first instinct is to argue and tell him I never agreed to one, but a small, sad part of me is sure of one of two things: either I’ll never see him again, or he’ll have forgotten about it by the time he brings those sculptures back.
“Okay.”