Chapter 2
JORDAN
Ginger patting my cheek like I’m a harmless idiot and brushing off what I said stings more than I expect.
I mask it with a grin, which is my go-to move, but the disappointment lingers.
She didn’t even pause to consider I could be serious.
Not that I blame her. I’ve earned my reputation—years of flirting and flings will do that.
Still, I wish I could hit reset with her.
Let her see me for once without the baggage and negative expectations. Let her just see… me.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask, already getting to my feet.
She sends me a cautious glance. “I should probably stick with water.”
“You should or you want to?”
She hesitates, and I can practically hear the gears turning in her mind. Ginger doesn’t let loose easily. Being in control is her comfort zone. I’ve seen her nurse one drink for an entire night more times than I can count. Many times, she won’t touch a drop at all.
“I rode with Willow…”
“Did I hear my name?” Willow asks, popping up like she’s been eavesdropping, which she probably has.
“Yeah. You’re my designated driver, so I’m going to have a pumpkin martini.”
“That’s a fabulous idea,” Nina chimes in. “I’ll get one too.”
I nod at Willow. “What would you like?”
“I’ll have a soda, please.”
I head to the bar and order their drinks, plus another round for my brothers and me.
While I wait, I glance back at the table.
Ginger’s laughing at something Willow said, but her posture hasn’t changed.
She’s still too stiff and straight, like she’s posing for a portrait and can’t relax.
I don’t know why it hits me in the chest, but it does.
She always looks like she’s bracing for something.
When I return, Ginger watches me with a coolly assessing gaze as I pass out the drinks and retake my seat.
“Thank you, but you didn’t have to,” she says.
“I know. I wanted to.”
Her eyes flicker with… not surprise exactly, more like suspicion. As if she’s waiting for the catch, like there’s always one with me. But there isn’t.
“Ginger.” Nina calls her name, drawing her attention away from me.
I don’t mind. It allows me to study her beyond the flirty glances I habitually throw around.
There’s a slight crease between her dark-blonde eyebrows, even when she smiles.
Her jaw is set too tightly for someone sitting around a table with friends.
I wonder what it would take to make that tension melt away.
“Are you okay?” Nina asks.
Ginger nods. “Yeah, why?”
“You look like something’s on your mind,” Nina explains, watching her.
“Oh.” Ginger rolls her lips together and gives a slight shrug. “I was thinking about the shelves I need to get hung on the wall in my shop.”
Nina perks up. “Are you talking about the ones for all the awesome merchandise you’re going to sell?”
“I sure am.”
“You got the shipments in and you didn’t tell me?” Nina gasps with mock outrage.
Ginger lets out a soft laugh, but it’s genuine, and the crease between her brows fades. “Relax. They just came in this afternoon.”
Nina rubs her palms together, clearly thrilled. “I can’t wait to see them.”
“Maybe you can help me organize the displays. After all, this was your idea.”
“Don’t give me credit for suggesting something that millions of companies do,” Nina says.
“Still, I wasn’t taking advantage of something that has the potential to make money for me,” Ginger replies.
Across the table, Nina tugs on Travis’ sleeve. “Can you hang up some shelves for Ginger?”
He nods. “I don’t see why not.” He looks at Ginger. “When were you thinking?”
She takes a moment before replying, “How about Sunday night after five? We close early, and you won’t have to worry about customers while you’re working.”
“Sounds good,” Travis agrees.
“You’re the best.” Nina beams at him.
He leans in, tapping her nose. “You are.”
Reed thumps Travis on the back. “I never thought the day would come when my grumpy older brother would turn to mush over a woman—and a city one at that.”
“Right?” Drew, our youngest brother, adds, laughing.
Travis tries to keep a straight face, but the twitching corners of his mouth betray him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I want to know which one of the other brothers is next,” Willow chimes in, drawing laughs from all around.
“Fuck that,” Reed says. “I’m as single as I can be.”
Willow rolls her eyes. “By choice or because no woman can put up with you?”
He wraps an arm around her shoulders. “You put up with me.”
She raises a dark eyebrow. “Barely, and we’re just friends.”
He pulls her closer, resting his cheek on top of her head. “Aw, come on, Will, you know you love me.”
Ginger leans toward me. “One of these days, those two are going to tear each other’s clothes off and screw like wild animals.”
“You think?” I glance over at them skeptically. “Reed and Willow? Nah. She’s like one of the guys to him.”
“She’s still a woman,” Ginger says, sipping her martini. “And he’s still a man. They’ve got chemistry. It may be a slow burn, but I can see it.”
“Hmm.” My gaze bounces between the two of them. “You really think they’re gonna happen?”
Ginger nods slowly. “One hundred percent. I’ll remind you of this conversation when it does.”
“Maybe it already has,” I say, testing the waters.
Her eyebrows lowering, she shakes her head. “Nah, my girl would’ve told me if it did.”
I lean in, my arm brushing hers. “Do you tell each other everything?”
Her amused green eyes meet mine. “Only the important stuff.”
“And who you have sex with qualifies as important?” I ask.
“Duh. Of course.”
I chuckle. “You say that so emphatically, but would you tell Willow if you and I slept together?”
She flinches just enough to catch it. Her eyes squint, as if she’s trying to figure out if I’m messing with her. “I would never sleep with you.”
“Harsh,” I say with a grin, but I don’t back off. “So you say.”
Her face twists into a full-fledged scowl. “I wouldn’t.”
I hold up a hand. “Okay. For argument’s sake only, let’s say we had sex. Would you tell Willow?”
She hesitates to give an immediate answer, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth before she finally shakes her head. “I don’t know if I would. I’m leaning toward probably not.”
A sharp pang of disappointment hits me in the chest, fast and unexpected. The idea of her keeping me a secret bothers me. A lot. I have to remind myself this is a hypothetical situation we’re discussing.
I press my thigh against Ginger’s, and she doesn’t move away. That shouldn’t feel like a win, but it does since she often acts like a skittish kitten around me. I lower my voice so only she can hear. “Want to have sex and find out for sure?”
Her head snaps toward me, eyes wide like saucers. “Oh, totally.”
“When?” I press, smiling.
She whacks my upper arm with the back of her hand. “I was joking.”
I laugh. “Well, it wasn’t a no.”
She bites her lip again, but this time there’s a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “It wasn’t a yes either.”
I enter Laugh A Latte a little before five o’clock. The smell of coffee and baked goods greets me as soon as the door swings open. Ginger’s at the counter with her back to me, and when she hears the door close, she spins around, her eyes going wide.
“We’re about to—” she starts, her mouth falling open with surprise before she can say the word “close.” Her gaze flicks down to the toolbox in my hand. “I take it Travis couldn’t make it?”
I flash her a grin, walking farther into the shop. “Yeah, he asked me to fill in. I hope that’s okay.”
She quirks a brow, then shrugs one shoulder. “It’s fine, as long as you don’t mind getting dirty.”
“Not at all.” I set the toolbox on a nearby table and meet her gaze. “Tell me your vision, and I’ll make it happen.”
She steps out from behind the counter, purposefully walking toward the center of the floor. Her hands gesture around the space as she speaks. “I’m thinking this wall would work best for the shelves.”
I look at the spot she’s pointed to and nod, mentally measuring the dimensions. “How many shelves are we talking?”
“Four,” she replies, a note of eagerness in her voice.
“How long are they?”
“Seventy-two inches.”
“Depth?”
“Twelve inches.”
I look at the wall again. It’s an excellent spot for shelves, but there’s something about the flow of the space that bugs me. Customers tend to crowd near the door, and I don’t want to block traffic.
“Hear me out for a second,” I begin, moving across the floor to the opposite side.
I point to the wall in front of me where there’s more open space.
“I think they’d work better over here. If you put them on that wall as you wanted, people will walk in and out, and they’ll end up bumping into the shelves.
But over here? Plenty of room for the tables and chairs to shift around, and no one will feel cramped. ”
She tilts her head, considering my suggestion. “Hmm. Good point.”
I flash her a grin. “Come on, G. You know I’m more than just a pretty face.”
Her eyes roll, and I can see she’s fighting a smile. “It’s good to see you can use your head for more than flirting.”
Oh, baby, if you only knew.
I bite back a chuckle, knowing this playful back and forth is a kind of dance we’ve done before. “Where are the shelves?”
“In the back,” she replies, stepping to the side to lead the way.
I follow her behind the counter, through the door that leads into the spotless kitchen. It’s a little quieter back here, the hum of the espresso machines fading to a dull murmur. She walks briskly, clearly familiar with every inch of the space.
She leads me to the back corner, where four neatly stacked boxes sit. “I ordered them from a company that specializes in shelving for businesses. Everything needed to hang them is supposed to be included.”
“Perfect.” I nod, walking up to the stack and eyeing the boxes. They’re long but manageable. “All right, I’ll move these out and get started. You can keep me company, but don’t feel like you have to lift anything unless you want to.”
She raises an eyebrow in challenge. “You don’t think I can handle it?”
I chuckle. “I’m sure you can, but I don’t want you to strain yourself. You’ve got a lot of other things to focus on.”
She comes toward me, determination flashing in her eyes. “I’ll help. Besides, if I let you do everything, who’ll make sure you don’t mess it up?”
“Ah, good point.” I grin at her, stepping back to give her space. “Between the two of us, this shouldn’t take too long.”
We each take one end of a box, gingerly lifting it between us. She’s got surprising strength for someone who I know, avoids exercise like it’s the plague. We carry it out to the front, setting it down with a soft thunk near the wall I’d suggested. Then we head back for the second box.
The rhythm of our movements becomes smooth. We carry the next one out, then another, the sound of our footsteps and the soft shifting of the boxes filling the air. Every time I glance at her, I notice how comfortable she is here. Like this shop is the one place she can let down her guard.
Finally, the fourth and final box makes its way out, and we set it on the floor. I wipe my hands on my jeans and look over at her. “So, I’m gonna measure and then remeasure before I begin.”
She crosses her arms and steps back, taking a moment to survey the area. “I trust you to handle it. Just don’t screw it up.”
“Oh, I won’t.” I wink. “You’ll be impressed.”
She smiles, but it’s a guarded one. I catch the way her gaze flickers from me to the boxes, and I can’t help but feel like she’s doubting my ability, which isn’t the best feeling.
But all I can do is prove how capable I am.
Gathering what I need from the toolbox, I set to work.
Ginger stays close, observing, though I can’t help but notice she’s more at ease than before.
As I measure the height of the wall and calculate the distance between the shelves, I feel her attention on me.
After a few moments of silence, she steps closer, voice quieter than usual. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
I glance at her, my lips curving into a slow smile. “Yeah, at the dispensary. I’ve had my share of shelf-hanging experience.”
“I should’ve thought of that,” she mutters, her tone playful, but there’s a hint of something softer in it. “You’re full of surprises.”
I focus on the task at hand, but I can’t help the thrill that runs through me at her words.