Chapter 40
Scottie
I miss my employee,the one who never cashed a single paycheck.
Koen leaves early in the mornings. And mornings are when I have a little extra time since the store doesn’t open until nine. By the time I close the shop in the evenings, he’s walking Scrot and ready to turn in for the night.
I’m missing my two favorite men for different reasons.
The door chimes as I refill the bulk jars with the recent candy order and figure out how to find another employee who will work for free.
“Mr. Drummond.” I smile. “Good to see you.”
The store’s owner gives me a sad smile while slicking back what little gray hair he has left on his head. His eyes are dark and weary, skin wrinkled and dotted with age spots and moles.
“I’m afraid I don’t come with good news. Clara is receiving hospice care. All of my money’s gone out to pay medical bills. I can no longer pay rent for this building.”
“Oh,” I wad up the empty candy bag, “I had no idea she wasn’t doing well.”
He glances around the store as if already appraising what he might liquidate. It’s jarring. This store has felt like my home for the past ten years.
“Her heart is failing.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”
He shifts his gaze to me, adjusting his giant belt buckle. “You can sell as much of this stuff as possible by the end of the month.”
That’s in two weeks.
“I’ll need to sell the trailer too.”
I nod. Clara has been so kind to me. I’ve loved working here. And I know so many customers will be disappointed too.
“I’d love to visit Clara if that’s okay.”
“Of course. She’s at Wellings.”
“I can be out of the trailer this weekend.”
“I’m sorry, Scottie. I know Clara wanted to keep the store for you. But I just?—”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “I understand.”
“Well,” he says with a sigh. “I’ll check back with you next week and see where we are on inventory. If you have anything on order,” he frowns at the full jars of candy, “please see if you can cancel it.”
“I will.”
There’sa knock on the store’s door just after nine-thirty. Perched on one of the swivel stools, sipping a soda, I glance over my shoulder.
Koen frowns. Baseball cap backward. Finger pointed at his watch.
Grabbing the key, I unlock the door.
“You’re not answering your phone? What’s going on?” He steps inside with Scrot and takes the keys to lock the door behind him.
Making a lazy inspection of the checkout area, I shrug. “My phone’s … somewhere.”
He tosses the keys on the counter and pulls me into his arms. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Today, I got fired and evicted.”
Koen’s eyes narrow.
“Clara, the owner’s wife, is dying, and he needs to sell this place and the trailer.”
“I’m sorry. I know you love this place. My grandpa will be disappointed, too.”
I nod several times.
He gathers my hair, pulling it off my neck. I love it when he messes with my hair. It’s easy to imagine him doing the same to our daughter if we have one.
“I can’t do much about the store.” Koen ducks his head to kiss my neck. “But I can let you sleep on my sofa until you find a new place.” A smirk steals his lips when he stands tall.
My gaze lifts to his.
And I wait. I’ll wait all night.
He wrinkles his nose. “Not in a joking mood, huh?”
I don’t blink.
His head bobs a few times. “Maybe you should move in with me. Sleep in my bed. Make a mess. Spoil my dog. Get me in trouble with my grandpa. Plan a wedding. Have sex with me on the kitchen table. Or maybe Scrot’s bed. Yeah, that’s it. Let’s fuck on his bed. He’s humped the hell out of my pillow, so I feel like that would be good payback.”
He wins.
I snort, rolling my eyes. “I’m not going to make a mess.”
His eyebrows peak. “That’s what your objection is? Not the sex on the kitchen table or the dog bed?”
Lifting onto my toes, I trap his lower lip between my teeth and grin while he draws his head back to release my hold on it. “I will have sex with you anytime … anywhere.”
“Don’t tease me. I know there’s a back room.” He bites my bottom lip like I did to his.
I laugh when he palms the back of my legs to carry me to the back room. “I was hoping I’d get to have sex back here one more time before the store closed.”
Koen slows his pace, scowling while releasing me to my feet. “One more time?”
With a shrug, I nod. “Do you really think Herb comes in every day just for produce?”
“Fuck no …” His face wrinkles, but he can’t hide his grin. “You cannot say that shit and expect me to get an erection.”
Hugging his torso, my hands dip into his back pockets. “Herb never has a problem.”
“Scottie Ann Rucker, you are one sick chick.”
“But I’m your sick chick, right?” I bite his pec muscle.
“Turn around and pull down your pants; I can’t look at you when we do this.”
A fit of giggles robs all of my composure. “Doggie style must run in the family.”
“Woman, stop!” Koen grabs my face and kisses me so hard I could suffocate. When he releases me, his hands slide down my arms, and he lowers to his knees, hugging my legs, forehead resting on my stomach.
“What are you doing,” I murmur, removing his backward baseball hat to run my fingers through his hair.
“Getting used to this feeling.”
“What feeling is that?”
“You bringing me to my knees.”
I grin. “In the best way, right?”
“The very best.” His hands ghost along my curves. “God took so much time with you,” he whispers. “I must remember to thank him one day.”
My heart leaves my chest every time he whispers words like that. The irony of the perfect man thinking I’m the one God spent a little extra time on is upside-down logic.
This impatient heart of mine wants more, and it wants it now.
I realize I haven’t had sex dreams about Price since I told him about the baby. All of the emotions for Price Milloy that I held on to for twelve years and the mixed and misplaced feelings that shook my heart when he came to Austin, were all tied to our baby. I don’t hold on to things that don’t matter. That’s why I’ve lived a simple life. But that moment mattered.
And so does this one.
Until this very moment, I never allowed myself to see how desperately I needed to tell Price about the baby so I could let go of the pain … let go of him.
“Let’s call my parents and sister and tell them to come to Austin when the store closes. I want to marry you now, in your backyard, with just our families.”
Koen pauses his motions for a breath before grabbing his hat and standing tall to inspect my sincerity.
I shrug. “This summer’s tomatoes aren’t going to can themselves.”
I see my future in his eyes, and it’s bigger than any dream.
“You’re moving in tonight.” He slides his hat on the right way.
I laugh. “It’s late.”
“Nope. You don’t have that much stuff. Let’s throw it all into the back of our trucks and go home.”
“Sounds messy.”
He takes my hand, leading me toward the front of the store. “Baby, you’re going to be a fucking tornado in my life. But I’m here for every single disastrous second.”