She gave him a small smile. “That’s a different kind of social.”
“I’ll say it is.” He turned off Lake Street into the downtown.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, peering through the rain-spattered window.
“Right here,” he said, pulling into a parking space and pointing at the storefront with gray cedar shakes. “Kinship Mercantile,” she read from the sign above the door. “I hate it already. You should give me your money now.” But he saw the way her eyes lit up when they locked on the cheerfully jumbled window display. Cloud-thin throws and overstuffed pillows with sayings like LAKE LIFE IS THE BEST LIFE perched on a whitewashed oak pedestal table.
“Let’s give it a few minutes. Let a man have a fighting chance,” he said, reaching over her and opening her door.
It smelled like sage and lemons when he pushed open the glass door of the shop. The swift rush of pride hit him, just like every other time he stepped foot in the Mercantile.
“Nope,” Maggie said, shaking her head. “I don’t see anything that interests me. I’ll wait in the truck.” But she was already picking up a stoneware dish glazed the exact color of Payette Lake on a sunny summer day. “Oh. Look at that.” She put the dish down and was drawn farther into the store to a rustic curio cabinet showcasing handwoven table linens.
He let her browse and headed toward the register.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in—your dead-to-me uncle.” Nirina, his baby sister, took after Mama B in the high cheekbones, big smile, and hair-styling creativity departments. She had the Wright eyes, and her skin was exactly halfway between Mama B’s dark and Emmett Wright’s Irish pale. She was rubbing a ringed hand smugly over her rounded belly.
“Niri, have a heart. I come bearing gifts,” he said, stepping behind the counter to give his half-sister a hug.
“I don’t want any gift from you unless it’s—”
He cut her off and jerked a thumb in Maggie’s direction. “I kidnapped my new boss. Thought you might like to meet her.”
Niri’s eyes widened. The beads of her bracelets clicked when she interlaced her fingers under her chin. “Is that?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded.
“You’re the best brother in the universe!” she hissed. Then threw her arms around him for a quick, hard hug. “Holy shit. Okay. I’m gonna get Kayla. Do not let that woman leave.”
That was high up on his agenda.
Nirina dashed off toward the back office, nimble on her feet for five months pregnant.
He headed back to Maggie. She had one of the airy, featherweight throws tossed over her shoulder, the blue serving dish was tucked under her arm, and she was studying a smaller version of the pedestal table at the front of the store. “Find anything you like?”
“Nope. Not a thing,” she said, then looked up at him guiltily. “Ugh. Fine. Here. Hold this. And this.” She unloaded everything into his arms and dug into her purse. “Here’s your dumb five dollars. Now, go buy me a coffee and leave me to explore every inch of this place.”
“You like it?” he asked.
“I want to die here. My headstone will say ‘She bought everything.’”
“This is my sister’s place,” he said with pride.
Maggie tore her gaze away from the table. “Why do you keep introducing me to your family, Sy?”
“Because despite your inherent rudeness, I like you. And I like them.”
“You know, I’m worried enough about you managing your expectations about us. I refuse to take responsibility for any misconceptions your family develops,” she warned him.
“I take full responsibility,” he promised. “Now, come meet my sister Niri. She and her best friend started this place two years ago. At first, we all thought it was just so they could continue spending every second of their lives together. But they’ve really got a knack for it.”
“You can say that again. Sy!” The wonder in her voice had him stopping in his tracks. “Look at that bed.” With something close to reverence, she stroked a hand over the rich finish of the bed’s carved headboard. It looked almost like a picture frame, with dramatically carved edges around a rattan-looking insert. It managed to look both tropical and French country at the same time.
“Now, that’s a step up from a cot,” he observed.
“I want it,” she breathed.
“Get it. I can think of more than a few reasons to have a big, comfortable bed in that room of yours. Namely, the fact that your cot is gonna get awful crowded when Kevin and I spend the night.”