Alice
I lean against the countertop, waiting for the coffee to brew.
It’s cold beneath my palms, but four nights ago, this slab of granite was the hottest place in Texas.
I can still feel Colt’s hands on me. The way he’d laid me down carefully, then ground against me, that breathy growl in my ear that makes my skin burn to remember it.
I’d felt how hard he was. How desperately he wanted me. That fact wasn’t open to interpretation. So why, then, did he pull away? Did he stop because of our past? Or because he’s planning to leave in a few weeks?
The last thought twists my stomach.
I wonder if I’ll ever get the answer. Not anytime soon if my brother has anything to do with it. Because for the last four days, he has been everywhere we are. The ultimate cockblock. A constant reminder that we only know each other because of him.
I’ve got you, baby.
Colt’s words—words I’d imagined verbatim in my fantasies—had rolled off his tongue and into my mouth. I’m replaying that line when Grant strides into the kitchen, hair disheveled, scratching at his chest. He looks like a bear woken mid-hibernation, none too happy about where he finds himself.
That makes two of us.
I’ve just poured my coffee and am about to take a sip when Grant yanks it from my hands.
“You’re too kind,” he mutters.
“Grant!”
“Alice,” he deadpans before drinking from my coffee mug.
Not the one Colt and I broke the other night when we were—
I reach into the cupboard and pull out another one—a Christmas mug with Snoopy on it, because it’s never too early for Christmas, especially in Holly River.
Pouring myself a fresh cup, I nod toward the couch.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t get you a room at the inn?
I really do worry about all the construction dust you’re breathing in. ”
Grant snorts, leaning against the fridge. “I spend half my time at ranches. I’d breathe in less dust on the daily if I huffed a vacuum bag. I think I’ll survive your little hobby project.”
My jaw tightens, because there it is. He may pretend that he came to visit his old friend, but I know who really sent him, and why.
“It’s not a hobby. It’s a business.” I take another sip of coffee before setting it aside and digging through the cabinets for breakfast. What I’m saying would hold more weight if what I had in here amounted to more than Cap’n Crunch and S’mores Pop-Tarts.
“And you can let Mom and Dad know that when you scurry back to Shreveport with your formal report.”
Grant reaches past me to grab the Pop-Tart box. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A knock at the front door makes my heart somersault, because I recognize that efficient one-two rap.
I hurry to the door, pulling it open to find exactly who I expected.
Colt stands on the porch wearing a fitted white shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap.
Behind him is June, a ray of sunshine in her yellow cardigan.
She’s holding a large, parchment-lined box that she lifts a few inches, acknowledging my request.
“Morning, Alice.” Colt’s greeting is a deep rumble that shivers through my body.
“Colt,” I manage.
Colt’s eyes drop to my lips before raising again. It’s subtle, quick. But it broadcasts: I remember. I’m thinking about it too.
Colt passes by me, and when I catch the scent of soap on his freshly showered skin, my knees go weak.
“I brought reinforcements!” June exclaims as she steps inside. “And by reinforcements, I mean sugar. Lots of sugar.”
Grant wanders over. “Finally. A real breakfast.” He reaches into the box and grabs two cookies, shoving one into his mouth immediately.
June slaps his hand. “Alice asked me to bring these for her meeting. They’re not your breakfast.”
“Mmph,” Grant grunts around a mouthful. “If not breakfast, why breakfast-shaped?”
June leans over the box, face contorting with confusion as she tries to piece together his meaning. “Because they’re round?”
Grant raises his fingers, counting off evidence. “Pancakes, fried eggs, doughnuts…bowls…of things.”
June waves Grant’s arm away when he reaches for more, but she’s looking at me. “Why did you want three different types of cookies at eight in the morning? Not that I’m complaining about the business. Stop, Grant!”
I catch Colt looking at me from the main room, where he’s already getting to work taping off baseboards. My face heats beneath his gaze. I pull in a steadying breath and say to June, my eyes still on Colt, “I’ll explain everything when Maggie gets here.”
“Speak of the devil,” a voice rings out.
Maggie bursts through the front door, her arms flying up to do jazz hands.
Grant groans and moves to the couch, flopping down and yanking the blanket over his head. “It’s too early."
Maggie stops in front of Grant’s blanketed form and shoves her hands on her hips.
Bending at the waist, she says to Grant.
“It is early, isn’t it? So early that if you got on the road now, you’d be to Shreveport by lunch.
” She claps her hands together, and Grant jerks at the sound.
“Go on, boy!” Maggie's voice rings out. “Go on home. You can do it, boy! Find home!”
Maggie spots June’s cookies and rushes over to grab one.
“Look what I’ve got here!” Maggie waves the cookie directly above where Grant’s nose would be.
June and I start laughing, and from the corner of my eye, I note that even Colt is cracking a smile.
Grant throws the covers back.
“Come on,” Maggie coaxes, backing up.
Grant sits straight up, perking, his eyebrows shooting up.
Maggie wiggles the cookie and then tosses it out the front door. “Go on! Get!”
“Hey,” June protests, right as Grant flops back down on the couch and recovers his head.
Maggie strides over and hugs June tight. “I’ll pay you back.”
June laughs. “You will not.”
“In flowers,” Maggie finishes.
“Now that I believe.” June looks at me. “Alright, we’re all here, and I have to be back at the bakery by nine. What’ve you got?” June glances around the place. “You guys are crushing it, by the way. It’s starting to look like an actual bookstore.”
“It’s getting there,” I agree. “We’ve built most of the shelves, but we still need to do the electrical, replace the front window, build the counter, and…” I pause, thinking.
“Install the crown molding,” Colt supplies, finishing my thought.
I point at him, grateful once again to have a partner in this, especially someone as competent as him.
“Right, and that. From there, it’s the fun stuff.
Painting. Wallpaper. Decor.” I pause, plucking one of June’s cookies from the box and shaking it.
“Speaking of fun stuff, I want to pitch you guys an idea.”
Maggie slides onto a barstool with an I’m all ears face.
At the same time, in the main room, Colt nudges the couch with his boot. “Come on, man. If you’re going to be here, you might as well help your sister out. Let’s get these floating shelves up.”
Grant grunts.
Colt pulls the blanket off him and tosses it away. “Get up.”
Grant groans, but manages to get to his feet, slumping over dramatically. Colt starts walking him through the task as I turn back to Maggie and June, pouring them each a cup of coffee. After I hand their mugs over, I take a deep breath and begin.
“The thing is, I’m hoping for a favor.” I pause, my eyes drifting over to Colt as he measures and then marks the brackets, preparing to screw them in. I summon his confidence and start anew. “Actually, this is a business opportunity. One I hope you’ll both consider.”
I look at Maggie. “Mag, I want to buy fresh flowers from you every Monday morning. I’ll put one arrangement on the coffee table, and another by the register.
Beside the register arrangement, I’ll leave a stack of your business cards so people know where to buy them.
Then, out front, I’d like a silk flower arch at the porch entrance.
If you’re up for it, we’ll change out the flowers seasonally.
The goal is to create a spot where customers take photos, and because my bookshop name will be directly behind the arch, it’ll be captured in every pic.
” I swallow, nervous for reasons I can’t articulate.
“I’ll pay you for all of this, obviously. And—”
Maggie grabs my hands. “Alice, say no more. You’re asking to become my best customer and promote my work. Yes, I want to do this. Absolutely, yes. I’m going to build you a silk arch so hot you’ll strip every time you see it.”
I laugh, relief whooshing out of me that she’s onboard.
“Good! Oh, I’m so happy. I really want the shop to have a fall feel.
I’ve been so busy with the inside, I haven’t had time to properly decorate outside.
” I wave toward the front. “My parents used to buy fifty or sixty pumpkins from their ranchers as a show of support. I’ve got like… five.”
Maggie waves away the concern. “You keep focusing on the inside. Once the arch is up, your porch will become a fall mecca.”
I smile gratefully and grip Maggie’s forearms. “Thank you, friend.” I turn my attention to June.
“June,” I begin.
“Ooh, it’s my turn! This is so fun!” June settles onto her barstool, her hands in a prayer position beneath her chin. “I am rapt with attention.”
“From you, I’d like to buy cookies. I’m guessing two or three dozen each morning.
I want to offer a promotion where if a customer purchases a book, they’ll receive a free cookie.
I’ll purchase a toaster oven and reheat them so they’re served warm in the fall and winter.
One cookie per transaction, and again, we’d keep the flavors seasonal.
On the counter, I’ll keep a glass cookie jar and include your Humble Pie logo. ”
June raises her arms into the air, her head bowed and swaying side to side as if worshiping the idea.
Encouraged by their excitement, I share the other idea I had.
“Oh! And my favorite part. I’m going to print bookmarks with the bookshop’s logo, and on the back I’ll include a cute cookie illustration. ”