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“Good night.”
Then he was gone, and she was staring at a dark empty street that probably would have looked a whole lot scarier if he hadn’t been there a second ago. And Peyton knew that she didn’t mind his protectiveness. In fact, her heart warmed at his affection.
Kinsley was right—it was nice having someone look out for her.
Really nice.
Chapter 7
The following day, after an early morning breakfast with Justin while they caught up on his exciting bachelor life this past month, the workday had been busy, which made time pass quickly. People were still coming in for a look—dark curiosity, no doubt—but then most customers bought an item or two before leaving. Sales over the last two days had never been better, but it was hard to feel good about any of it, considering why the shop gained exposure.
With a sigh, she flipped the closed sign on her shop’s front door while a man in his late thirties glanced through the bras on the hangers. All day she kept thinking about how sweet Boone was, and tough, all wrapped in one delicious package. She’d never been with anyone like him before. This naughty stranger who unexpectedly came into her life and heated it up to lethal levels. Sure, with Adam, things were sweet, and loving, but with Boone, there was lust and needy rawness. Probably on her end more than his. Her body still hummed in satisfaction from Boone’s hot kisses and even hotter sex. God, the way he touched her…kissed her…thrust inside her…She turned away from the door and blew out a long breath, pushing away the heat burning in her blood.
“Would you like this?”
Peyton turned her attention onto the man in her shop, finding him holding up a dark red lace bra. “A gift for your girlfriend or wife?” Peyton asked to understand his needs.
“Wife.”
She moved closer, smelling his citrusy cologne infusing the air. “What color is your wife’s hair?”
“Brown.”
“Skin tone?”
“Fair.”
“Then, yes, I think that would look amazing on her.” From her experience working in Seattle at a lingerie shop, Peyton knew what suited certain body types and skin tones. “There’s panties to match too. What’s her size?”
“Medium,” he said.
Peyton grabbed the matching panties off the table next to her and offered them to him.
He held them up, glancing between the bra and the panties. “So, this will be good, then?”
“Very good.” Peyton fought her smile. She’d seen it a few times now. Men would come into the store wanting to buy their lady something special but had no clue what to buy. Some men bought the sexiest thing they could find, but of course, that was something more for him. Every so often a guy like this came in, who wanted to buy something for her, not for him. Peyton liked real men.
Real like Boone.
“All right then,” the guy said, breaking into her thoughts. “I’ll take them.”
“Wonderful.” Peyton moved behind the counter. When he settled in front of her, his gaze connected with hers and held. There was an edge of confidence in his eyes that was somewhat confusing. Edgy, confident men usually didn’t have trouble picking out lingerie. Especially because the guy had the body, the looks, and apparently the money, since he clearly displayed his wallet full of cash.
Peyton accepted the payment and then folded the panties in tissue paper before placing the items in a small white bag with black rope. Peyton sold lingerie, but she really sold sexiness and confidence—the things she wanted to help women feel—and she liked wrapping everything up in a pretty package. She tucked the receipt into the side of the bag, then handed it to him. “I hope your wife loves your gift.”
He gave her a small smile and a firm nod. “Thanks to you, I’m sure she will.” Then he was off, and she shut the door behind him, locking it.
Peyton moved to the window, staring out at the cars driving by. With the summer upon them, the daylight seemed to last a lifetime lately. She loved this new life she was creating for herself. Helping women feel beautiful brought the exact warmth to the cold places inside she hoped for. She felt playful, beautiful, and sexy again. After Adam passed away, Peyton barely got off the couch, let alone worried about what she looked like. Until one day she looked in the mirror and didn’t even recognize herself. Somehow between wearing the lingerie she once loved again, and with Boone’s constant compliments, she finally found a way back to herself. And while she loved helping people as a nurse, this new, more fun way of helping women gave her the purpose she’d come to Stoney Creek to find. She liked the woman looking back at her in the mirror now, and she loved helping others feel the same.
Maybe she was making it after all. She’d come out the other side of her personal hell, still herself, even if a new version of herself. And that felt so damn good, filling her with so much warmth from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.
When the man vanished around the corner, a sudden coldness brushed across her, making her feel like she wasn’t alone. All the warmth she felt suddenly drained away. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She glanced around, searching for a set of eyes on her. No one appeared, but those little hairs never lowered, her heart never slowed.
Great. Just as she thought she had it all together, she was now losing it.
Reminding herself the murder had nothing to do with her, she set to closing the shop for the night. She put the cash in the safe and tidied up her tables before the new cleaner came in. Who, surprisingly, hadn’t been as hard to get as she thought it would be. The very next night after the murder, a new cleaner from the company came.
Apparently, only Peyton was majorly freaked out about a murder in her shop.
