“Everyone in town is looking you up. You get one chance to tell your story before they fill in the details.”
“And how many details are you filling in for them?”
She pulls her soapy hands out of the water and looks me dead in the eye. “Only what they need to know.”
“What you need them to know.”
“Same thing.”
“Like that I know about Mr. Shredded Wheat and his two girlfriends?”
She doesn’t blink at that either.
Because she’s that good?
Or because she lied about the gossip in Hawaii?
“I’m not threatening you,” she says quietly. “I’m explaining to you how this town works. I can help you or I can stand in your way. Happy to do either. But I need to know what you want if you want my help.”
For a split second, I’m back in Hawaii. Carefree. Light. Hustling to keep up with the whirlwind that was my temporary Duchess as she tried to make the world a better place.
I want that.
I crave that.
But it’s not why I’m here.
“You left,” I grit out.
She looks up at me for a moment longer, then nods slowly. “Got it. Good luck to you then.”
That sounds ominous.
Worse, though?
It does nothing to cure the overwhelming curiosity about how different the next few weeks would be if I just kissed her.
Right here.
Right now.
“Sabrina?” Willa sticks her head into the kitchen. “Shirlene’s here.”
Sabrina smiles. “Jitter and I will be right out.”
Moment over.
She’s gone.
And I think I just lost her.
Again.
10
Sabrina
After work, Jitter and I take a hike, visit Grandpa for a few minutes, and then head back downtown to meet Laney and a few other friends at House of Curry for a low-key engagement party for one of the owner’s grandsons. The restaurant is on the next block down from Bean & Nugget, but it feels seven thousand worlds away.
Nani Parvati’s restaurant isn’t in danger of being taken over by someone who wants to gut the Tooth’s favorite Indian restaurant. Her kids and grandkids are all ready to keep running it into eternity. Unlike Chandler, whose favorite part of his job was driving around to the various locations and telling people what they were doing wrong, Nani Parvati’s family is always in the kitchen or working the dining room, laughing and joking and teasing each other in the best way.
Jitter shakes it all out outside, and then we join the party.
The restaurant’s about two-thirds full and still open to the public, so it feels like half the community is wandering through tonight.
I get asked a few dozen times how the new Bean & Nugget owner is.
I smile and report things are great at every opportunity. Whatever Grey’s issues with Chandler, they’re separate from my own desire to make sure my cousin doesn’t get to think he’s hurting me too.
Is that petty? Or is it self-protective?
I don’t even know these days.
Laney’s parked at a table in the corner of the red-walled building, and Jitter and I finally make our way to her. Devi, the owner of the gallery next to Bean & Nugget and one of Nani Parvati’s grandkids who isn’t going into the family business, is sitting with her.
“How’s the new boss?” Devi asks me when I slide into the booth next to her. She’s in overalls that are speckled with all colors of paint, as are her brown cheeks and her thick black hair that’s tied up in a messy bun.
“Grumpy,” I reply cheerfully.
Laney makes a what’s wrong with you? face, and I realize I’m doing it here too.
I’m faking the cheerful.
Necessary outside of this booth.
Inside the booth, probably not so much.
“Grumpy and hot?” Devi prompts.
Ugh. Unfortunately.
The look on his face when I almost fell while doing dishes—that intense focus—was exactly the same as it was our night in Hawaii. And then the way he watched me while he helped me finish the dishes—someone pass me an ice bath.
I can tell you why he made me feel good.
It was because the minute that hotel door closed behind us, the world ceased to exist, and Duke—Grey—made me feel like I was the entire world.
I’m not surprised he’s a researcher or that he’d hold a patent for something amazing. He’s intense when he focuses. That likely serves him well in the lab.
Laney hides a smile behind a bite of veggie korma.
I clear my throat. “I think he’s overwhelmed at the change in climate from the West Coast and the pace that things move in small mountain towns.”