Page 20 of Some Sort of Happy (Happy Crazy Love 1)
He smiled at me, a slow, sly grin that made my knees go weak. “I won’t tell.”
“Thanks.” I waited for him to tell me why he was there but he said nothing for a moment, his eyes running over my hair and face, lingering on my mouth.
but your beauty is gravity
I licked my lips. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to drink? The kitchen just closed, or I’d offer you something to eat.”
“I’m sure. I’m not hungry. I just came in to talk to you.”
and terrestrial bodies will always fall
“You did?” I rocked forward onto the balls of my feet.
“Yes. I owe you an apology.”
A blush warmed my cheeks. “It’s OK.”
“No, it isn’t. I shouldn’t have rushed off yesterday. I feel bad about it.”
“Well, I shouldn’t have come in here screaming like a banshee either.”
He shrugged. “It’s all right.”
God, he was so damn cute, all wet and sheepish. “Sure I can’t get you some coffee? I hate to send you back out into the rain so fast. I’ll sit with you.” Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes.
His lips tipped up again, and my heart ka-banged like a sixth grader’s with her first crush. I loved how one of his eyebrows sort of cocked up higher than the other when he smiled. “No, thank you. I should go.” He turned and pushed the door open, then looked back over his shoulder. “But it’s good to see you again.”
When he was gone, I stood there staring out the window at the rain for a solid five minutes, suddenly wide awake and more curious about him than ever.
• • •
Coffee Darling was only open until mid-afternoon, so I had plenty of time left over in the following weeks to help my mother finish the guest houses. I’d get up at five, work at the shop until the lunch crowd left, and then head back home to paint, put up window treatments and light fixtures, and make up beds with beautiful linens in soft, neutral colors. On my days off, I’d go hunting at antique shops for old chairs I could recover, tables my dad could help me refinish, or just pretty things that would look nice hanging on the walls or sitting on a shelf.
In the evenings, I helped my mother tweak their website, which was dated and busy. I also convinced her to hire a photographer to take some professional photos of the houses and grounds, and found a graphic designer to work on a new logo.
I can’t say I was any closer to figuring what to do with my life, but I felt good about helping out my family, and staying busy made it easy to put off worrying about the future. My most immediate concern was that damn reunion—could I show my humiliated face? My final episode of Save a Horse had aired, (no, I did not watch) but I still felt the disgusted stares and heard the angry whispers of locals here and there. Perhaps if I hadn’t thrown that cosmo in fan favorite Whiney Whitney’s face, I’d have come off a bit more sympathetic, but I just couldn’t take one more of her tearful meltdowns. Besides, I let her push me in the ranch’s pool in an evening gown and stilettos. Ratings for that episode were sky high!
If only I had someone to go to the reunion with. But my two closest girlfriends from school lived out of town and weren’t attending, and Natalie said showing up with her as my date would be worse than going alone. If Sebastian had come into the shop again, I would’ve asked him about it, but he never did. I asked Natalie about him once, and she said he was kind of like that—he might come in every day for a week and then not at all for two. Then she teased me about the crestfallen look on my face so much that I didn’t ask again.
I was starting to think I’d imagined his poetic words about me when I ran into him at the hardware store one night in late May.
I was in aisle four looking for screws for these cool cast iron bin pulls I’d just bought at an old barn-turned-antiques store, and I was having trouble finding the right size. Frowning again at the vast selection in front of me, I was thinking of asking for help when I heard a voice behind me.
“Skylar?”
I turned, and there he was. “Oh! Hi.” Suddenly I remembered my hair was in a ponytail and quickly tugged the elastic out before he could notice my Nixon ears. Slipping it over one wrist, I tried to shake out my hair, fluff it a little.
“Hi.” He smiled and my heart thumped hard at the slow stretch of those full lips and the arched brow. Why on earth had he hidden that face for so long? “How are you?”
“Good. I’m just looking for a screw.” My eyes went panicky wide as I realized what I said. “For some screws, I mean. Not a screw.”
He laughed then, a warm, genuine chuckle that sent joy spiraling up inside me. “Do you need some help?”
“I do, actually.” I held up one bin pull. “I bought this antique hardware but I can’t find the right fit for the hole.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“I hate when the fit is wrong for the hole.” With an easy grin on his face, Sebastian took the pull from me and examined it. “Hmm. Let’s see.” He hunted around for a moment, during which I covertly studied him from the corner of my eye. He was tall and trim, with a nice round ass which I may or may not have leaned backward to check out while he tested a few different size screws. “Aha.” He faced me and held one out. “This should work.”
