Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
I wish I could cut my heart out, place it in a box, and shelve it until I’m ready to deal with the side effects it causes.
Korren’s face remains etched on the backs of my eyelids.
That accident woke a deep-seated fear in his soul.
I need to see for myself that he’s up and functioning normally.
Losing my job caused debilitating anxiety that brought me to my knees for weeks.
Enough that I can recognize that experience in others.
Questions that had no answers crushed me like the wheels of a train.
I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Which Korren isn’t.
I ignore the angel on my shoulder scolding me for unfriendly behavior.
People should know what they’re getting into from the start.
There’s nothing worse than being expected to remain the same when life has drawn and quartered you.
Some days, I feel held together with gum and tape. Admittedly, I felt stronger every day. Being with people whose support never wanes or flags is a special brand of healing.
Balancing the small paint cans in one hand and the stepladder in the other, I walked down to Reel Haven.
Setting up shop, I mentally block the window into smaller squares.
The lack of festive cheer in their front window is noticeable, and that gives me a reason to check in. Recently, it’s like he’s avoiding me.
I want to make sure he doesn’t think I’m judging him.
That’s not who I am. Arranging my tools, I pull the brushes and mason jar of water from my bib.
Unscrewing the lid, I set it on the ground and tap my lips with the wooden handle of a small brush.
Dreaming up a conversational piece, I start with a leaf-littered sidewalk.
“Nice to see you helping a fellow shop owner out,” someone says as they walk by. I smile at the older woman.
“I’m happy to share my skills.”
She nods. “Best way to show appreciation for our gifts. Working together always makes things go smoother.”
I swear I can feel the approval pouring in as I continue to work. I came in early to give myself a chance to design without the peanut gallery in the front row.
“You really don’t have to keep doing things for me.
” The rich timber makes my stomach flip.
I am not eager to see his stupidly handsome face.
The mossy green zip-up brings out the insane color of his peridot eyes.
The turned-up collar gives him an edge I like more than I want to see. He scans the drawing with appreciation.
He’d caught the brunt of a pain he didn’t cause when we first met. It makes me feel a bit embarrassed.
Besides, the projects help. I forgot how much I enjoyed working with my hands.
The downfall of project management is that my other skills get rusty. My brain obsesses. The tunnel vision served me well in college and during big jobs, but now I have to unlearn it.
“Hey, I’m serious,” he prompts.
“What?” I snap out of my creative haze.
“We’re more than even.”
“I’ll know when I’m done. This is as much for me as it is for you. I am helping you upgrade your store, am I not?”
“Yes, but this is too much.”
“Oh, you’re going to pay me. We’re just adding this to the package,” I promise with a laugh.
He exhales. “Okay. Good. But I thought the gumball machine was a part of that.”
“No. That was an actual gift.” I pause. “An experiment. How’s it going so far?”
“Lots of interest and visitors coming in.”
A flicker of pride warms my chest. I can create things that people enjoy. “I’m assuming you filled it?”
He nods. “Yeah. I’m working on picking more things to put in there, though.”
“Stick with the classics. Don’t go over PG-13, since you have no way of knowing who’ll use the machine.
Of course, you could expand and have a few machines for different genres,” I mutter as I build up the tree lines on either side of the painted street in front of me.
The gears in my brain turn, and I think of color themes for potential additional gumball machines.
“What?”
“Huh? I said nothing.”
He snorts. “Not out loud. But your eyes did a sparkly thing.” He wiggles his digits like jazz hands.
Raising an eyebrow, I wait for further explanation. What is he talking about?
“When you’re thinking, you get this look.” He makes a dreamy face, holds his hands together under his chin and bats his eyelashes.
My jaw drops in surprise. “What in this Disney Princess is that?” I splutter.
“You.” He points at me.
“No.” I clench my jaw.
“Yes.” He bobs his head.
“Just the two people I was hoping to see.” Mayor Branch walks up behind us with a smile.
She’s dressed smartly in a chic black pantsuit with a polka-dot blouse underneath that ties at the collar.
“Because our meeting got cut short the other night, I was hoping to talk over coffee—my treat.” Her hopeful expression is impossible to resist.
“I think I can swing that. Korren?”
“Sure. What time’s good?”
Mayor Branch beams. “How does 12:30 sound at the Honey Moon?”
Free coffee is what I’m excited for, not more time with Korren.
A few hours later, we’re strolling into one of my favorite places.
The earthy aroma of freshly ground coffee and spices greets us as we walk through the door.
The white brick contrasts beautifully with the slate chalkboards and round tables with black tablecloths.
Small crystal vases with fresh flowers rest in the center, a nice touch that brings the outdoors inside.
Creeping vines of greenery climb the walls. How they keep the pothos so happy all year round is beyond me. Tall white dwarf monstera and palm fronds add pops of green to the space. Black-and-white checkered-pattern floors add more personality.
We hang out by the entrance until Mayor Branch comes in with a phone to her ear. “You two go ahead; I have to finish this call.” She gestures to the cashier, showing us that the order will be on her.
Stepping into the small line, we wait our turn.
“Any suggestions?” Korren’s arm brushes mine. It’s like touching a live wire. I move away, ignoring the tingles.
“Since this is your first time here. You have to try the Honey Moon mood mystery.”
His eyebrows arch. “Why is the drink a mystery?”
“If I tell you, it’ll ruin the experience.” I mock zipping my lips.
“Well, now I need to know.”
I laugh. “It’s a tradition that newbies try this.”
“Okay, I’m trusting you, just this once.” He winks.
The pulse point in my neck throbs. Traitor. Don’t let sweet words and a set of pretty eyes tempt you.
He grins.
Or those perfect lips fool you. I hyper-focus on the menu I already know by heart. This man is dangerous. With his easy-going personality, humor, and handsome face, he’s waking things that’ve been offline for over a year.
My last ex, Carry, was always more uptight.
Concerned about appearance and opinions, he had a hard time relaxing.
His harshness had led to a break up. I couldn’t handle the negative outlook and constant catastrophizing every situation.
The short-lived dalliance was my last real attempt at dating seriously. Everything else had been more casual.
No, I will not compare the two. Because I’m not considering dating Korren. Which makes this kind of thinking a moot point. I smile at the young brunette behind the counter. Hair pulled into a bun; she has a Honey Moon visor on. Her almond-shaped, amber-colored eyes dance with merriment.
“Nice job,” she mouths, giving me a covert thumb-up.
My cheeks heat. “Oh, we’re not.”
He grins, picking up on the girls’ approval. Winking at me, he turns his attention to the barista. “Phil says I have to try the Moon Mystery drink.”
“Ahhh. First timer?” The girl, Jasmine, according to her name tag, taps her fingers together. “Let me work.”
“Work?” Korren mouths, eyes the size of soda bottle bottoms.
“Just watch.” I can barely contain the giggle, struggling to free myself.
I love watching people experience new things.
It was one of my favorite parts of being a project manager.
Discovering exactly what they’re looking for, assembling all the capable players, and guiding them through a build is peak joy.
For me, it’s art on a larger scale. Functional art.
Seeing clients watch their vision come to life is exhilarating.
“Hmm. You like sweet things in moderation.” Jasmine holds up a finger and wags it. “But nothing too rich.”
He turns to me, mouth agape. “What the hell?”
I laugh. “Wait. She’s just getting warmed up.”
“You had a tough year, but the chaos is over. Choppy waters will continue to smooth over. You’re exactly where you need to be.” She grins, showing a deep set of dimples. “And with whom you need to be with.”
Did she just look at me?
Jasmine snaps her fingers. “I got it. Shortbread latte.”
He blinks. “A what now?”
“You’ll love it. It’s guaranteed to be your new favorite, or it’s on the house. The usual for you? An iced lavender honey, right?”
“That’s right.” I’m still mystified by how they read people so well or remember every order. Must be why their hiring process is so strenuous. I know plenty of people who’d been turned away in high school.
“How did she know all that?” Crowding my personal space, he whispers in my ear.
I shiver at the warm breath caressing my skin. The woodsy, cedar, and leather scent is intoxicating. “I have no idea.” I hope I don’t sound as breathless as I feel.
“That’s uncanny,” he whispers.
I nod. “It always is.”
“Do they read everyone?”
I laugh. “Depends on what you order.”
“This place is incredible.”
Seeing it through fresh eyes shows me how much I take for granted here. “It is, isn’t it?”
A few minutes later, Jasmine and I watch as Korren takes his first sip. His lids lower, and he moans. I feel that vibration to the core of my being. Pure pleasure turns his face into a canvas of want. I lick my lips, admiring the muscles working in his throat.
“We can go to the table now if you like. I’ve already had enough caffeine this morning.
” Mayor Branch keeps me from embarrassing myself by drooling.
I smother the flames trying to flicker up from the man beside me.
Taking a long, cooling drink of the lavender honey latte, I nod my agreement.
It’s better if I don’t try to talk right now.
We follow her to a corner booth where we sit side by side across from her.
The heat coming from his body generates cozy emotions I do not need to feel toward him. Setting the black briefcase on the table, she pops the case open.
“I came with a list of dates and correlating events.” She pulls crisp sheets from her briefcase and slides them across the table to us. According to the Excel sheet, I’ll be spending two days a week with Korren Stormbourne for the next month.
My emotions fluctuate between fear and excitement.
“I also gave you interview questions. We want to run a little spread in the paper.”
Korren tenses beside me. “I’m not good at that sort of thing.”
“It’s nothing serious, just a fluff piece about where you went to college and your interests. Pick four or five questions to answer and email them to the editorial staff at the paper.”
“Okay.” Korren leans back into his seat.
Are you hiding something, Mr. Sunshine? That gives me more reason not to trust his cheerful act. Keep an eye on him. Since we’ll be together anyway, it makes sense that I observe him. Piecing together his past will give my brain something to fixate on.