Page 7 of All She Wants

“Only because your answer determines whether the third product is relevant. You don’t have to answer.”

The consultation room fell quiet. Claire could hear her heart pounding and her own careful breathing. She could deflect. She had a dozen elegant responses available. She could redirect, reframe, or simply purchase options one and two before leaving, assuming the road ever allowed that.

“My ex-husband started dating before our divorce was finalized,” Claire said instead. She didn’t know why. The words simply arrived, as truth sometimes did after someone had held it at arm’s length too long. “He found someone almost immediately. I remember thinking he’d discovered a door I couldn’t locate. I wished I could be that certain about what I wanted. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped letting myself...” She paused and regrouped. “My preferences aren’t exclusively heterosexual. They never have been.”

Erin accepted the answer without surprise or undue interest. “Then the third option is relevant.”

She opened the box. Inside sat a slimmer device, elegantly contoured and clearly designed for different geometry. “This is designed for two women. One end sits internally for the wearer, and the other rests against her partner. Some women buy it for someone already in their lives. Others like knowing they can use it alone now and it could also become useful later with a partner.”

Chapter Three

Erin watched Claire study the device, turning it once in her long fingers before returning it to the box. The rigid composure she’d carried through the door had eased into quiet concentration. She no longer looked ready to flee. It appeared that curiosity had finally edged embarrassment aside.

“I’ll take this one,” Claire said, touching the second product Erin had shown her earlier. “And this.” Her finger landed on the box she’d just set down.

Erin kept her face neutral, though a warmth had spread across her chest. Claire’s finger remained on the box. Erin had shown that option to hundreds of customers; she had never wanted so badly to ask one what she imagined doing with it.

“Excellent taste.”

“I had excellent guidance. Though the electrolyte warning nearly scared me off.”

There it was again. That ghost of humor Claire kept leashed behind her composure. Erin wanted to chase it. She boxed both products, wrapped them in tissue paper, and slid them into one of the shop’s understated black bags. She rang the total, ran Claire’s card, and handed the receipt across the counter.

“You’re all set.”

Claire accepted the bag and looked toward the front windows. The road had disappeared entirely since they last checked.

“It’s worse.”

Erin joined her at the window. “And it’s still coming down. It’s going to take the plows some time to clear these roads, especially on Christmas.”

Claire nodded, though her hand tightened around the bag handles. She had known she would be staying when they began the consultation. Seeing nothing beyond the glass except blowing snow made that decision feel far more definite.

“Come sit by the stove,” Erin said. “I’ll make the coffee I promised.”

“I’d love that.”

Erin nodded toward the seating area. “And waiting here does not obligate you to buy anything else. You already bought almost everything I recommended.”

“Almost.”

Erin glanced toward the product Claire had left behind. “I admire your restraint.”

“I’m glaringly single. Restraint and I are taking some time apart. Which is exactly why I’m here at your shop on Christmas Eve.”

Erin laughed as she headed toward the back room.

Claire crossed to the seating area and sat on the velvet loveseat near the stove. She placed the black bag beside her boots.

“Cream or sugar?” Erin called from the back room.

“Black, please.”

Erin returned carrying two mugs and offered one to her. “Careful. It’s hot.”

“Thank you.”

They had been sitting near the stove for almost fifteen minutes when suddenly the power failed. The lamps went dark, the register screen went black, and the coffeemaker clicked off in the back room. Firelight from the wood stove flickered across the shop as the wind drove snow against the windows.