Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Eden
Things moved quickly after Rob worked his magic on the corner of the floor. I knew whatever he’d done involved replacing the subfloor and a chunk of carpet, but it looked good as new, cost me nothing thanks to my cousin’s insistence that it was a gift, and the wretched odor was officially gone.
Since Addie had declared herself my assistant, she helped out with almost every aspect of getting the store ready to open. On the Tuesday before our grand opening weekend, she strolled in with an Avatar: The Last Airbender figure in hand and an unconvincingly innocent smile on her face.
“What? What is that look?” I demanded.
“Nothing, just stopped next door to get a gift for Anna’s son, Dylan. Have you been over there yet?”
“No,” I said absently, adjusting the position of one of the mannequins in the front window.
Addie propped a hand on her hip when I glanced up at her. “You’re coming with me to Dylan’s party, aren’t you? You should go over and get him a gift, support local businesses. Besides, you really ought to introduce yourself to the other shop owners on the block.”
Since that was already on my to-do list, I held up my hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll do it tomorrow. I want all of this ready to roll before we take down the paper for Friday.”
“Of course,” Addie murmured.
Something in her tone struck me as odd, but she turned her focus to helping me with the display and the thought went straight out of my head.
In the end, though, the window displays looked absolutely immaculate.
We’d decided to play up the Garden of Eden theme, draping garlands of ivy and flowers around mannequins dressed in some of my favorite items in coordinating colors—a mint nightgown with floral lace straps and a slit up to the hip, an emerald negligée set with pink rosettes across the bust and a matching robe, and a sheer black bodysuit with gold sequined snakes creeping up the ribs.
And in the center, a corset of apple-red satin with matching panties, both covered in creeping silver vines.
I just hoped my shoppers would love the items as much as I did.
By the next morning, my suspicions returned in full force when Addie called to remind me again about Dylan’s gift. My cousin was up to something, I just had no idea what.
“I heard you the first time, Adelaide.”
I had my phone trapped between my cheek and shoulder as I started attempt number three at gift-wrapping the largest box I had on hand.
The last thing we needed was for me to embarrass myself in front of a customer as I struggled with a tape dispenser or the baby blue satin ribbon that matched the store logo perfectly.
“I just don’t want you to forget. Dylan is a sweet kid and he really wants that graphic novel. It was the only one on the shelf yesterday. I’m kicking myself for not buying it.”
“I told you I’d go over as soon as I finish this. Remind me again why I didn’t go with those cute gift bags instead? No matter how pretty it is, this ribbon is a giant pain in my ass, Addie.”
My darling cousin laughed at my pain. “I have to go, Eden, I’ve got a client coming.
The ribbons are a nice personal touch. Any slouch can throw something in a gift bag.
Text me later. I need to know if you can get that book or if I have to go search for it in the city.
I want to focus on the grand opening this weekend! ”
“Yeah, okay,” I muttered. “Go on. I’ll get the book, then I’ll come back and master these stupid ribbons if it’s the last thing I do. If you don’t hear from me, assume this handy little ribbon dispenser strangled me.”
“Ciao, babe!”
Addie ended the call before I could voice a goodbye, so I tossed the phone aside and finished tying an ugly, uneven bow. I let out a growl at the sight of it and shoved the empty box across the counter before grabbing my purse.
“Bossy, bossy, bossy,” I grumbled, still uncertain why Addie couldn’t have popped back over to the shop next door yesterday afternoon, when she suddenly decided her godson needed that book.
I barely even knew the kid, but Addie insisted that I attend the party in a few weeks as her plus-one so she wouldn’t be bored out of her mind.
Given how much help she’d been in setting up Garden of Delights, I caved. I could sacrifice a few minutes to buy a book.
I let myself out the back door, following the sidewalk around the corner of the building. Since the front door was now covered with the same blank newsprint paper adorning the windows, it was the easiest way in and out of the shop.
Friday couldn’t come soon enough. I was looking forward to finally seeing the sun shining in the front of the building. Dreary gray was just not uplifting, no matter how many ugly purple bows you stuck on it.
The bitter cold of winter was depressing enough—some sunlight would work wonders.
As I rounded the corner onto Main Street, I caught sight of a piece of paper stuck underneath the windshield wiper of my car.
“Shit,” I whispered, hoping it wasn’t a parking ticket or a note that someone had hit the vehicle. Surely I would’ve heard a fender bender from inside the shop? I rushed over and pulled the paper loose, then wished I’d ignored it.
It was a Bible tract about the nature of sin.
I glanced wildly around the street, expecting to see someone staring, someone judging, but the pedestrians nearby all seemed cheerful and focused on either their destinations or their phone screens as they moved down the sidewalks.
There was no sign of anyone out of place, not like the woman I’d seen from inside the sandwich shop the other day.
Not a long denim skirt to be seen, only the normal array of jeans and puffy winter jackets.
Crumpling the piece of paper in my hand, I tossed it into one of the cute barrel-shaped trash cans the town lined the street with and forced myself to ignore the pit in my stomach.
The store next to mine was called Dueling Dragons. It looked like a combination of comic books and gaming, and I had yet to venture inside. Really, if I was honest with myself, the comic thing reminded me of my idiocy in sneaking out of Milo’s hotel room without leaving a note.
Since I was still berating myself for that decision, I didn’t exactly need to pile on more reminders.
Window paint depicting various superheroes covered the front door and I wandered in just in time to hear a kid say, “I told you, you should put your name on the parking spot.”
“It’s mine. Everyone knows I’ve parked there since I opened the store. I shouldn’t have to put my name on it.”
“Do you want me to key the car?” the kid asked, sounding hopeful.
“Jesus, Carter, no. Don’t do that. Ever, okay?”
I took a few steps deeper into the store to see the kid sitting on the counter, his Converse-clad feet swinging back and forth. Dark hair tumbled over his forehead and his mouth dropped open when he caught sight of me.
“It’s one of the ladies from the naked shop!” he exclaimed.
Naked shop?
From behind him, the man I’d heard speaking rose slowly from a crouch that had hidden him from view, and all the breath left my lungs.
It was him. Milo. Comic Con Milo. Red-bearded Viking Milo. Sweet, attentive, funny Milo.
“Eden?” he said softly.
“I…um. Hi, Milo.” Stupidly, I gave a little wave as heat flooded my cheeks.
“You guys know each other?”
We both tore our gazes away from each other to look at the kid on the counter. Milo, thank the powers of the universe, saved me from trying to answer that.
“Yeah, Carter, we do. Look, in the storage closet, there’s a copy of Absolute Batman in one of the boxes at the back. Think you could go find it for me?”
“Sure thing, Uncle Milo,” the boy said as he hopped down and rounded the counter, disappearing into a hallway at the back of the store.
I continued to stare at Milo, standing before me in a Superman t-shirt that clung to the strong shoulders I had kissed and clutched and remembered until the image was seared into my brain.
His cheeks had gone as red as I was sure mine must've been, though the color was only just visible over his auburn beard.
When I finally convinced myself to break the awkward silence, it wasn’t to apologize for leaving or ask how he’d been or beg for a repeat of that night at the hotel. It wasn’t even to voice the stupid question of what are you doing here in Spruce Hill that ricocheted through my head.
What came out of my mouth was, “Parking trouble?”
His lips twitched and those eyes, just as soft and inviting as they had been at the bar that night, twinkled at me. “Let me guess. You drive a red SUV?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
To my surprise, given the irritation evident in the parking conversation I’d interrupted, Milo threw back his head and laughed. The sound curled around me, coaxing more memories to the forefront of my mind.
“Of course it would be you,” he said, shaking his head as he leaned his hands against the counter. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m opening a store,” I replied. “Though it’s not a naked shop, strictly speaking. Lingerie, actually. Kind of the opposite of naked.”
Oh, god. The grin that lit his face made me want to climb across the counter and kiss him. Instead, I stood there like an idiot, frozen in place, waiting. Waiting for him to get angry, waiting for him to yell or throw out cutting comments about how I’d snuck out of his bed like a coward.
Milo did neither, just walked slowly around the counter and came toward me at that same careful pace, like he thought I might spook.
“You live in Spruce Hill?” he asked softly.
I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and saw his face fall, but it brightened when I said, “Yes, I do now. I grew up near Binghamton, but my cousins live here. We’re close, so I moved to town about six months ago from Rochester.”
“Cousins,” he repeated, cocking his head when he paused a few feet away from where I stood. “The blonde?”
“That’d be Adelaide, yes.”
“She came in yesterday. I thought it was weird, the way she reacted when she saw my name tag.”
My brows shot downward as I realized just how my cousin had played me. Even in my suspicion, I’d never expected this to be her endgame.
“That conniving little sneak,” I whispered. “She told me I had to come get some graphic novel for her godson’s party—a party I had no intention of attending before yesterday, since I barely know the kid. She set me up.”
Milo’s teeth flashed when he smiled. “Remind me to thank her. I can’t believe you’ve been next door this whole time. And that you’re the parking spot thief.”
“I’m just glad the kid didn’t key my car.”
“That’s my nephew, Carter. He talks a villainous game, but he’s a good kid. I don’t think you were in any real danger.”
“Milo, I—”
My apology cut off abruptly when someone entered the store behind me, exclaiming, “Shit, man, you’re parked half a mile away! Oh, sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was here.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed and I turned to see an absurdly handsome man with long black curls pulled into a ponytail. He was bearded, as tall as Milo, and had a killer smile. That distracted me for a solid three seconds before I realized he had the same gray eyes as Milo and his nephew.
“Hi, I’m Milo’s brother, Maverick,” the man said, stretching a hand toward me.
“Eden,” I replied as I shook it.
Maverick looked over my shoulder at his brother. “Eden,” he echoed.
“Yes, this is Eden. You can drop her hand now, Mav.”
I glanced toward Milo, surprised by the low growl in his voice as he said it.
He wasn’t looking at me, though—the brothers had locked eyes and some kind of silent communication was passing between their steely depths.
Since my relationship with my brother was anything but typical, I wondered if this was a learned behavior or something innate.
“Dad! You’re early!”
The nephew, Carter, came sprinting out from behind the counter. Now that I’d met his father, the resemblance was clear. It was harder to compare the two adults because of the difference Milo’s auburn hair made, but needless to say, they were clearly an attractive family.
Carter paused before passing me, straightened his shoulders, and stuck out a hand. “I’m Carter.”
As I had with his father, I clasped his hand. “Hi Carter, I’m Eden.”
“That’s a pretty name. How do you know Uncle Milo?”
“Oh, um…”
Maverick only cocked his head like he was fascinated to hear my answer, but Milo cut in, “We met at an event.”
“Oh?” his brother murmured. “Comic Con, maybe?”
Another growl from Milo’s throat thrummed over my skin, followed swiftly by a hot, uncomfortable flush of embarrassment.
The brother knew. They’d talked about me.
It was no different from me telling Addie, but sudden panic clawed at my throat at the realization that someone other than my cousin knew I’d spent the night with this man, knew that I’d propositioned a stranger at a hotel bar and had run away the next morning without even getting his last name.
A stranger who owned the shop next door to mine, who lived in the same town, who I’d probably be seeing nearly daily for the foreseeable future.
It was more than I could handle just then, the rush of shame I thought I’d long since moved past. Oily and familiar, it crept up my throat until it threatened to choke me.
“I have to go,” I said abruptly.
Every social nicety flew out of my head as I spun on my heel and hightailed it out the door, brushing past Maverick while Milo called my name. I lifted a hand in farewell, called out a quick apology, and fled.
Again.