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No one visited, which I expected. It gave me the chance to sift through Nolan’s social media—rather, all of his social media for N. Bailey, the wolf shifter smut goddess. That was what Nolan’s readers called him. It made me giggle every time someone called him a goddess. If only they knew their wolf-shifter smut goddess was actually a nerdy bookstore owner in his mid-twenties.
God, they’d lose their ever-loving minds… in the best ways.
I’d always told Nolan he should be more open about who he was. Male writers breaking into romance was becoming more and more of a thing. His fans would’ve adored him. The only real issue was his social anxiety, but there had to be a way to manage that without hindering his career.
I scoured the internet for book conventions and information on hosting signings. Cedar Harbor was so small for something like that, even if The Treehouse was a perfect place for it.
My phone buzzed incessantly on the countertop while I scrolled his emails. I ignored it. It was probably the obligatory follow-up call my mother always made after breakfast together. She called every time with a list of improvements for my behavior, my attitude, my appearance, and more. Just this once, I could be busy.
But when the phone went off again, I sighed and resigned myself to hearing everything she had to say to me as I answered.
“Nemo,” Nolan whispered into the phone with a sense of urgency in his voice. Oh no. I stood taller. “Nemo, Nemo, Nemo.”
“Nolan,” I began and chewed on my lip, “I’m not there.”
“Nemo,” he repeated. “There’s a woman running my store like it’s okay to have it open when I’m on vacation.”
I grinned and hung up. Not even two seconds later, the shop door flew open, banging violently off the wall.
“Shit, I really need to get Declan to fix that,” Nolan announced. He wouldn’t. He’d been saying the same thing for years. “Is this enough coffee?”
He set a giant tote bag on the counter. I immediately dragged it close and peeked inside, squealing with excitement at the bags upon bags of my favorite seasonal coffee grounds stacked in it.
“I’m going to assume that’s a yes,” he said. “If it’s not, I have an entire carton in the car as well.”
“Yes, please.” I beamed. I’d have enough coffee for a whole year if he had that much. “Did you drive to Olympia for my favorite coffee?”
“I’d do anything for you,” he replied casually. He dropped into the chair next to me. “That, and I ran away from my brothers and their morning shenanigans by leaving stupid early to drive there instead.”
I laughed quietly. I could only imagine the shenanigans the Byrnes were into so early in the morning, considering most of them were probably still drunk.
“If that’s still not enough, I’m more than willing to take you into Olympia,” he continued. “I’ll buy you all the coffee you want until it’s enough.”
I eyed him for a long moment. He was far too willing to go into Olympia. He hated the city. Getting him to go into the city twice in one day? That was practically unheard of—a miracle in and of itself.
“Everyone’s on their way here for the last leg of the games, aren’t they?” I asked. Escaping chaos was about the only reason I could think of.
“Yeah.” Nolan sighed loudly, his head falling back against the chair. “My brothers are on their way back. The Ironwoods and the Stones will be leaving this evening to head our way. The chaos is coming to Cedar Harbor. Take me away. Beam me up. Nemo, Nemo, Nemo. We aren’t in Kansas.”
“God, you’re dramatic,” I scoffed. I loved that about him. “You only have to get through a few days, and then it’ll be over.”
“But what if they stay?” he demanded. “What if even just Roan stays? God, that man is like six idiots in one when he gets started.”
“I thought you liked Roan?”
“I love Roan like a brother, but even my brothers can act like idiots,” Nolan retorted. “And Roan leads the cavalry with an iron horse.”
“Did you just call his motorcycle an iron horse?” I snorted, giggling at his antics. “Nolan, it’d be made of steel.”
“Steel, iron, copper, bullshit, it’s all the same.” He shrugged while I laughed harder. “What? Roan’s going to ride in here on his bike and be drunk. For days! Weeks if we’re unlucky! What about the summer Roan came to visit for a weekend and stayed for four months?”
“Oh, what if he moves in with you?” I teased. “He could live on your couch. Or maybe cuddle you at night.”
“Stop!” He drew out the word with the utmost drama. “He’d actually do it! My life would come to an end. Call the papers. Put out a notice. End of life. Here I come.”
“You came back feisty,” I noted with a smile. I missed these conversations with him.
“I did.” He sighed and peeked at the laptop screen. “How are my ladies doing?”
