Chapter 16 Ronan
SIXTEEN
RONAN
OLD TIMES
It was a little early to stop and get fried chicken from Crescent Cove, but the hangover gods were still playing havoc with my gut.
Wine wasn’t my usual drink of choice, and the two bottles plus lack of sleep equaled a desperate need for grease.
So much so, I was tempted to land at the diner near the gazebo.
With a name like The Rusty Spoon, it seemed a no brainer for what I needed.
However, a lack of sleep added to my urge for a full reset. Bucket of Love was my only hope. And the joint was my happy place ever since I found it.
Unfortunately, that meant I had some time to kill before it opened. Some fresh air and exercise helped blow out some of the cobwebs, especially after an exceptional cup of coffee from a place called Brewed Awakening.
I ended up in front of a catchall book and craft store on the main drag.
The inviting window was decorated with canvas bags full of books perfect to bring to the nearby beach.
Handmade wearables were cleverly draped over a vintage metal beach chair in candy apple red.
A rack of more mesh-styled bathing suit coverups was discreetly tucked behind it.
Surprisingly, a basket of cotton yarn exploded with summer colors beside the chair and a half finished project was set in the chair as if someone had just gotten up and left it to go in the water.
Damn good marketing since I planted my boots outside the window for a full minute looking around.
Every Word A Story was scrawled across the top of the window, hand painted on an old school wooden sign.
Seemed like the perfect place to find something to send to my mother and sisters to remind them I was their favorite.
Five minutes later, I had to grab one of the cotton shopping bags to hold the collection of gifts I’d found.
A pewter dust catcher for my mother—she loved anything to do with turtles.
A leather bound sketchbook for my brother-in-law and fancy watercolors in an array of stormy grays and blues, also for my mom.
I wandered to the second floor and found some ridiculously expensive yarn for my sister Norah.
She was as creative as my mother but preferred textiles.
I was helped by the colorful yarn saleswoman who definitely saw a target on my forehead.
She even offered to package up and mail my purchase off for a fee.
I suppose it was the least she could do considering the triple digits I spent on cashmere yarn.
But Norah would love it, and it would make up for me missing her birthday party thanks to my move to New York.
Before I could do any more damage in the yarn section, I returned to the first floor.
For my little sister, Maeve, I ended up with a stack of books.
Most of them were from the used shelves and were lovingly thumbed through.
She was the thrifter in my family and appreciated upcycling in its many forms. I paused over the Yeats Irish folklore hardcover with little notes scribbled in the margins.
I snapped a photo of the page and put the book on top of the stack. I sent a text off to her with the photo and noticed three others waiting for me. One from an unknown number. I almost ignored it—probably a spam text.
Unknown
Hey Boa—new number for now. I’m road tripping your way. Got time for a beer? Maybe seven.
“Kain,” I muttered out loud. Surprise and confusion warred inside of me.
“Were you talking to me?”
I blinked up from my phone. “Sorry?”
The dark haired woman smiled as she toyed with the curling ends of her ponytail. “I wouldn’t mind if you called me Kain.”
I laughed. “Old friend texted me.” I noticed her tag and relaxed.
The idea of a woman flirting with me generally wouldn’t cause me to put my back up, but I was working on little sleep and a dash of credit card shock.
I waggled my phone before stuffing it in my pocket.
“I have to answer this, but is there somewhere I could set this down?”
“Sure. Follow me.”
She was a little bit of a thing, but she moved fast, winding around the maze-like shop.
As I was speed walking behind her, I grabbed two more dust catchers and tucked them into my bag.
One more for my mom and a piece of stained glass—that one was for me.
Since most things seemed to be one of a kind, I would rather hold onto it and decide if it was really for me when I could pay attention again.
She pointed toward the checkout counter. “You can set it on the side counter there. Sure hope you’re buying all of it.” She winked. “Since I’m the owner.”
“Oh, really? This place is great. I’ll definitely be back for all my gift buying.”
“What I like to hear. I’m Colette, if you need anything. And I do mean anything.”
“Um, thanks.” Why was it that women were the most flirtatious when I was less than available?
Not that I had any pull toward her other than noticing the fact that she was attractive.
Big hazel eyes, creamy skin, and dark chocolate hair would have had me lingering to chat her up, once upon a time.
However, Kira had me locked down, even if she didn’t know it yet.
I slipped outside and was glad to see a bench a few doors down so I could get out of the late morning foot traffic. I took a seat, quickly added his contact into my phone, then texted Kain back.
Ronan
Where are you?
Kain
Aloha to you too. Think I’m someplace called Dewitt. You somewhere you can take a call?
Yeah.
My phone buzzed and I lifted it to my ear. Before I could say hello, he was talking.
“What’s up, Boa? Long time no talk.”
I laughed. “What the hell are you doing in New York?”
“This and that. I needed to get away. Got on my bike.”
“You rode your Harley out from California?” My ass immediately had sympathy pains at the thought.
“I spent a week at Shane’s and realized your new digs were pretty close.”
“Really? Huh. I didn’t realize Winchester Falls was upstate.”
“Yeah. A bit more east coast, but just a handful of hours. After driving the PCH, seems like a blink.”
Memories slapped into me hard. Me and Kain on our bikes in our twenties when we were both running from responsibilities.
Him running from the N’ai name and his father’s insane moneyed reach in Hawaii, and me from college that never quite fit.
We spent a year doing shit jobs along the coast to cover the cost of campsites and beer in between good surfing spots.
Sometimes his best friend, Shane Justice, would meet up with us for a week or two before he had to get back to work with his father. We were wild and free and more than young and dumb, but that year had solidified our friendship.
“And my ass remembers the chafing.”
Kain’s booming laugh crackled through the phone. “Not so bad when you find a warm and willing nani.”
I shook my head and relaxed against the bench, kicking out my long legs. Kain’s deep baritone gave me an instant boost. “And how many did you find on this trip?”
“Not nearly enough. I was more about the scenery on my bike than the stops. I found myself heading east. I went to see Shane first. He and his woman are settled and disgusting with it. Hell, they’re even doing the kid thing. Tell me you aren’t the same.”
“Guess I’ll have to tell you all about that when you get to my house. I’m assuming you’re staying?”
“Man.” His laugh was goodnatured if a little sadness crept in. Enough that I sat up a little straighter. “Not you too.”
“Everything good, Kain?”
“Yeah. Just miss your face. And I want to see this orchard you moved across the country for.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees to cut some of the street noise so I could hear him. Something seemed off. “Don’t look too hard or you’ll fall in love with it too.”
“Not a chance. Unless there’s a wave I can ride in these big ass lakes.”
“The storms can be pretty epic, so I hear.”
He grunted. “Doubt that one, bud. Text me your actual address.”
“What happened to your other phone?”
“Just needed to cut ties for a bit. Someone always needing something, for fuck’s sake.”
Something was definitely up. “Like old times?”
“Yeah. I could use some old times, man.”
Again, I caught that edge in his voice. “Hungry?”
“Always. And don’t leave me hanging, Boa. I need a lot of that food. I worked up a powerful thirst too. Got any of that bitchy cider for me?”
I groaned. Sounded like another hangover was in my future.
Kain N’ai was an epic drinker. “My hard cider is anything but bitchy. Not ready for prime time yet though. But I have some reserve stock you might like.” My first day in town had included a damn good bourbon.
Right up my friend’s alley, even if it would probably put me on my ass by the time he was done with me.
“I’ll see you soon, palala.”
And he was gone.
I raked my hands through my hair and winced. Food and a shower would need to be in my life a little faster than I figured. I checked the time and was glad to see it was just about time for the lunch place to open.
My shopping spree would have to wait. Luckily I’d covered the most important people. By the time I got to the counter, Colette was ringing out someone else. While I was waiting, I spotted a weighty fountain pen under the glass where my books were stacked.
The proprietress chatted genially with the customer but wrapped it up quickly. She turned to me with that beaming smile. “Did I see you eyeing something in the case?”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“That’s my job.”
I tapped the glass where the cobalt blue pen was. “Can you add that to my very extensive pile?”
“You have a very good eye, Mr…”
“Just Ronan.”
“Well, just Ronan, it’s a gorgeous pen. We have a selection of inks to go with it if you need some?”
“I’ll let my father handle that end. He’s a pen snob. Wouldn’t want to pick something he didn’t like.”
“What does he do? Assuming he’s not retired.”