Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Harper
Serving eggs and burgers on almost no sleep wasn’t my favorite thing to do. Today I’d made it through my eight-hour shift thanks to the power of endorphins and erotic memories of my night with Max.
He was incredible, and I was in lust. The man was the best lover I’d ever had, with that fit, athletic body, impressive stamina, and an insistence on pleasing his partner early and often.
I’d lost track of the number of orgasms he’d given me.
Literally lost track. I’d had two- and three-O nights before, but last night’s count would require two hands.
I was a little in awe that I could still walk.
I grinned as I drove from Naomi’s house, through town, and headed out the other side of Dragonfly Lake toward Cambria’s place in the country.
I’d wondered how Max was faring throughout the day.
We probably hadn’t slept for more than an hour when I’d walked back to get my car just before five, before anyone was out and about.
He’d hated that he couldn’t drive me, but Danny was sound asleep, and I’d reminded him this was a small town with zero serial killers.
As far as we know, he’d said seriously. The concern in his eyes had warmed me to my toes all over again.
Then I’d brushed it off, distracted him with a slow, deep kiss, and waved goodbye as I left.
He’d let me borrow a T-shirt to put over my swimsuit so I’d be a little less conspicuous if anyone saw me.
It was huge on me, so I’d tied it at the waist and rolled up the sleeves for my walk of shame.
It was one thing to refill coffee mugs and write down orders on no sleep, but quite another to teach teenagers algebraic equations.
I wanted to check in with him later this evening, after football practice, but I’d be smart to rein myself in and wait a few days before contacting him.
This wasn’t supposed to be an every-night kind of fling.
Which I was starting to think might be an absolute shame.
As I drove along the road out of town, following the directions from my phone, I turned my thoughts to my meeting with Cambria. Dakota would join us as soon as she got off work. I’d brought a bottle of wine to soothe my nerves as much as anything.
Business meeting? Me?
The situation seemed kind of crazy, but the more I imagined working with these two women to build something unique and hopefully lucrative, the more I warmed up to the idea.
My map app directed me to a gravel driveway surrounded by tall trees.
I drove past the remains of a building that looked to have burned down long ago and pulled up to an adorable cabin that appeared either newish or extensively refurbished.
There was an old barn a few hundred feet away that looked like one strong wind would destroy it.
That must be where Cambria made her candles; there was no way she could find space for that in her tiny home.
I got out and headed to the front door. There were two steps up to a cute porch with a high-top table and four chairs on one side and two rocking chairs on the other.
Before I could knock, the door opened, and Cambria came out with a welcoming smile, a brown-and-black dog darting out ahead of her and a smaller white-and-brown one sauntering after.
“Hey, Harper. It’s good to see you.”
We hugged. “Thanks for having me, Cambria. Who are these guys?”
“That’s Roscoe,” she said, pointing at the bigger one. “Slowpoke here is Jethro.”
I let Jethro sniff my hand, then scratched his ears. “Such a handsome boy.” I stood up. “Your house looks incredible.”
Her smile told me she loved it. “It was a long road to get it looking like this. Do you want a tour? It’s only six hundred square feet, so it’s more like a minitour.”
“I’d love to see it.”
As she showed off her place, she told me how it’d come to be hers. “This land was part of a farm years ago, but most of it was sold off, and the farmer died, leaving it abandoned. There used to be an old farmhouse, but it burned to the ground after a lightning strike.”
“I saw the remains of it,” I said.
“It happened years ago. The grandson of the farmer inherited the property and finally decided to unload it as is, with the building remains, the ancient barn, and this, which, at the time, was a hundred-year-old, no-frills but solid bunkhouse. I’d been saving for a house, but I didn’t want to be right in town, and I wanted something, well, kind of funky. ”
“This is funky in a very good way.”
The main floor consisted of a living room with a fireplace, a kitchen with an island and two stools, a small bedroom she used as her office, a bathroom, and a laundry closet.
A wooden ladder went up to the loft, which was a gorgeous bedroom with large windows, rustic ceiling beams, and a sitting area opposite her bed.
“I got the property dirt cheap, so I was able to use my savings toward a complete refurbishment. They gutted it and started from scratch. I’ll be paying it off for a while.”
“Worth it. But I can’t imagine going through that process,” I said.
She’d obviously taken a big risk, and it appeared to have paid off.
“It was stressful to have construction going on for so long,” Cambria admitted. “We came up against so many challenges due to it being a rustic, century-old building.”
“You can’t tell it now. This is amazing.” I laughed. “To think I was nervous to sign a one-year lease on Mrs. Karasinski’s apartment a few days ago…”
“Talk about location though. Do they have her belongings out yet?”
“This weekend.” I remembered the bottle of wine and held it up. “Do you like moscato?”
“I do. Let me get glasses. We can take them to the barn, and I’ll show you where I work. You’ll see why I need a better space.”
With our glasses full, Cambria and I walked to the barn, the dogs accompanying us.
“When my house was finished three years ago, this place was in a little better shape. It’s taken a beating from the weather and needs a new roof. It’s the one thing I miscalculated in moving here.”
She showed me her supplies, all in waterproof containers because the roof leaked.
“What are you working on?” I asked. A few dozen identical cylinders I suspected were silicone molds sat on the worktable.
Cambria stepped up to the table. “I got a huge order last week at a craft fair. They’ve been setting overnight, and I need to take them out, do a quality check, wrap each one in cellophane, and get them ready to ship. I promised they’d go out by tomorrow.”
“That’s a tall order. Need some help? If you show me what to do, we can work on them while we wait for Dakota.”
“It’s okay. I can do it later tonight.”
“Unless we pour too much wine down your throat. Then you won’t want to do it later. I don’t mind helping.”
“Seriously?”
“Show me these candles, please.” I took a sip of my wine and set the glass on a shelf so I wouldn’t spill on her work. The smaller dog was curled up in a doggy bed in the corner. Roscoe sat on semi-alert outside the open door.
Cambria picked up one of the molds and popped out a dark green pine-tree-shaped candle with a wick sticking out the top.
She trimmed the wick and showed me what she looked for as far as flaws.
This one passed the quality check, so she added a sticker to the bottom and demonstrated how to wrap it and tie a ribbon and tag around the cellophane.
Next, she unveiled a squirrel-shaped candle and repeated the process.
We had twenty candles done, nearly half the order, when Roscoe barked as Dakota drove by. I texted her to come to the barn.
“Hey, girlfriends,” Dakota said a couple of minutes later when she appeared in the open doorway, Roscoe at her side, apparently having decided she was friend instead of foe.
“Hey, you,” I said. “You’re early.”
“Seth let me go because we were slow this afternoon. Tourist season is winding down.”
“Harper brought wine,” Cambria said. “We were prepping an order I need to ship out, but we can stop and get down to business.”
“Ooh, these trees are super cute,” Dakota said. “What are we doing? I can help.”
“Thirty to go,” I told her. I was starting to get the hang of tying the ribbon just right.
Cambria poured wine for Dakota, and I explained the steps I’d learned earlier. We worked for another hour or so, chatting as we did.
“Guess who sat at the bar during my shift today,” Dakota said as she unveiled another tree.
“The pope?” I said, focused on getting the ribbon just right.
“Naomi’s brother.”
“Ian?” My roommate had been in and out, but we hadn’t talked much. He kept to himself and spent a lot of time outside, taking inventory of the property, I guessed.
“The one and only,” Dakota replied. “You made him sound like an ogre that first night he showed up. You failed to mention he looked like that.”
“He seemed like an ogre when he was drunk,” I said. “So you talked to him?”
“I did. I tried to convince him not to sell.”
I’d told everyone who’d shown up at the studio Tuesday about Ian and his plans. Though not a surprise, the news didn’t go over well.
“A lot of people depend on the studio,” I explained to Cambria. “Dakota more than most.”
“Naomi’s kilns are good ones. I can’t exactly put one in an apartment,” Dakota said, “even if I could afford one.”
“You know, you could probably make your candles there too,” I said. “Have you been there before?”
Cambria shook her head. “I’ve always meant to check it out, but I never needed it until now. I’ve been spoiled having a workspace in my backyard.”
“What did Ian say?” I asked Dakota. “Did you convince him?”
She shrugged with a little laugh. “I got him thinking about it.”
My brows shot up. “How’d you manage that? The one time I brought it up, he didn’t really listen, just insisted he wasn’t sticking around.”
“I’ve got some feminine wiles.” Dakota’s smile went smug, but she kept her eyes on her task.
“So you flirted, and grumpy Ian is moving to Dragonfly Lake now?” I teased.