Chapter 28 #2
I smile to myself as I brush off the thick dust and remove the drop cloth, pulling out a few tools that I’ve been using to work on the leather cuff she had been wearing.
Sitting down in the chair, I take in the view from here—a view of a quiet street in a small town, but it has potential.
She circles the desk and sits on top of it, turning over the metal file in her hand first and then feeling the smooth strips of leather.
Opening the black pouch, she empties the small chips of gemstones that have been left over, likely from larger pieces. An orange and brown rock comes out too.
She smiles, holding it up. “This one is from Nash.”
I hold it between my fingers. “It is. Started working on it when you gave it to me. I drilled a small hole here.” I point to the 3mm-size hole at its center. “I just need to find a chain or maybe a piece of leather rope for it.”
When I look up, she’s staring at the stone, then shakes her head before looking back at me. “He’s going to freak out about this. You’re going to end up with a bestie for life.”
I turn the rock in my hand, liking how that sounds and feels much more than I ever thought I would.
Staying here with her also meant I’d have her family in my life, too.
Nash and her sisters, Theo and Tommy, even Lu and Birdie.
The Crowne family is as intimidating as families come, but I like being around them.
I’ve gone so long without having any family, and then even when my dad was alive, it was only the two of us.
I push a long, rectangular bracelet box from the top drawer, across the top of the desk toward her. A sense of pride rushes through me as she lifts the top and takes a moment to look at the newly shaped leather. I reach forward and take it out. “This will fit your wrist better now.”
“I wasn’t sure you were actually going to give it back to me,” she says as she holds out her hand. The fingers on her other hand brush along its edge, the same way I had noticed her doing before, as I fit it around her wrist.
I made the leather thinner and sized it so it would fit tighter. The piece still takes up space along her wrist, a reminder that it was once mine, but small changes make it more like hers now.
Smiling, she watches as I fasten it.
I run my fingers along the textured leather edges, the place I noticed she touches often, and I kiss her palm.
“I don’t think you realize what it did to me to see you still wearing it,” I tell her as she runs a finger over the gold stitching details.
Her eyes flit to mine as she smirks at my words.
“What do you think? This space and me here, permanently?”
I look around and can picture it. The windows cleared, and a rotation of artists’ pieces on display in addition to my own. The upstairs loft would be ideal to work in, and if I need more space, the building is big. I’m ready to purchase the entire thing.
“I want to see you make all sorts of beautiful things here”—she looks around at the open and empty space—“in this space.” With an exhale, she runs her fingers along the bracelet’s edge, admiring it like she’s missed the feeling.
“I think a new beginning sounds scary,” she says, looking up and around.
“I’ve done it a few times.” She leans forward, tucking her hands beneath her thighs.
I pull my chair closer, wrapping my arms around her ass and resting my head on her legs.
Her fingers glide into my hair and it forces my eyes closed. Every time she does it, I stop holding my breath without realizing I had.
“So, considering I’m what you would call a professional at it, my advice?
” she asks playfully. “Find someone, preferably a badass scientist who has a penchant for cake and your cock,” she laughs out.
“Fuck around, maybe even fall in love—” Her fingers pause along my hairline, as if she wasn’t prepared to say that. But fuck am I ready to hear it.
“Personal recommendation? From experience, is to fuck around and fall in love?” I ask, lifting my head and sitting up so that we’re eye level.
“In my experience,” she says softly and with a nod, “it makes starting over so much more fun.” Her eyes stay locked with mine when she whispers, “I like this bubble we’re in right now.”
“So do I, baby,” I say, standing. I tilt her chin up so I can bring my lips to hers and kiss her. Her hands cup my face as my arms wrap around her, pulling her closer. When her phone chimes, she pulls her lips back, resting her forehead against mine.
“Reality reminders,” she exhales. “I have so many papers that I need to review before my end-of-the-week classes. I never loved this part of teaching, but the idea of getting back into my lab and standing up in front of students used to be such a high for me. And I’ve been waiting to get that feeling again—to want to do this job I worked so hard for .
. .” she says as the rest of her words drift off.
I don’t want to read between the lines. She’s a smart woman, probably the smartest person I’ve ever met, but I’m starting to learn what she looks like when she’s happy. Returning to the university doesn’t seem to make her all that happy.
I look across the table at the solder and buffering tools. It’s nowhere near all of the equipment I use, but it’s some of the basics, and as much as I haven’t felt inspired, I still love doing it.
“Want to ditch responsibilities for a little while? Go somewhere with me for a night or two?”
There’s somewhere I know she might feel inspired. And I have a friend who I plan to collect a favor from.
She takes a moment to think. Maybe she won’t want to, maybe she’d rather stay close to home and gain her footing after the last day. But when she looks up at me again, her green eyes crinkle at the sides as she smiles wide.
“When do we leave?”
The beauty of having friends in plenty of places with endless means is that getting what you need when you need it is as simple as asking.
Atticus Foxx is the head of Foxx Bourbon in Fiasco, Kentucky.
Anyone who knows anything about the bourbon business knows Ace, if not personally, then from his reputation for impeccable taste and the ability to build a brand and somewhat of an empire.
JULIAN
I’m heading up your way tonight. Any chance you’re free to show someone around the distillery and have a drink?
ACE
I stopped giving tours decades ago.
JULIAN
You’re really aging yourself with that comment.
ACE
My wife likes to remind me daily.
JULIAN
Is Lincoln free? She might want to talk shop.
ACE
She?
JULIAN
Long story. I’ll tell you over some whiskey.
ACE
You mean bourbon.
JULIAN
I prefer whiskey now.
ACE
Not everyone has good taste.
If you need a place to stay, the Midnight Proof apartment is yours. Rhodes is in town. I’ll see if he wants to join us.
I knew Rhodes would be there. He makes frequent trips between Nashville and Louisville, stopping in Fiasco when he can to purchase whatever rare cases Ace is willing to part with.
I’ve been friends with Rhodes Donovan for decades.
He’s an asshole who likes to throw his money around and has a helluva time at auction houses, bidding on things other people want just to be a dick.
He also happens to have something I want.
Wyn decided to take a few days away. She meant what she said about wanting to be in our bubble for a little longer, so she went into her office and spent a few hours wrapping up whatever it is that she needed to do to make sure her teaching assistant was prepped for end-of-week classes.
“There wasn’t anything specific, she said, but when I told Andi I was heading out of town, she looked anxious, like she wanted to tell me something.” Wyn shakes her head.
“Andi is the woman who came to Birdie’s house during dinner?” I ask.
She nods. “And one of the teaching assistants in the chemistry department.”
I pull into the private road and down toward the parking lot for the airfield.
When she hops out of the Bronco and stares toward the east side of the private airfield, I can’t help but think, This feels like our airfield now.
“You sat up there with me,” she says, pointing to the hill, “and you didn’t mention that you actually know how to fly a plane? I feel like that would have been information worth sharing.”
I smile as I check in with air traffic control. I’ll get clearance as soon as I’m ready to take off. “You already know about my paper airplane attachment, so I grew up a bit, had some money to spend, and I learned to fly the real ones.”
She nods and sarcastically adds, “Yup, totally. People just do that—learn to fly planes and make gorgeous things.”
Laughing, I load our things into the small plane and then open her door. “Crowne, you can do whatever the hell you want, you know that, right? Just make up your mind and do it.”