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I flipped the sheet back. “And she knows I fall asleep at the shop all the time.”
“August, we’ve talked about this.”
“No, you talked and I—you know what? Never mind. I’m exhausted.” I pulled on my jeans and shoved my feet into my boots. It was my own fault. I knew she wasn’t ready.
I just had to throttle back.
She was twisting my shirt into a mangled mess. I stepped in front of her. The little low watt string lights that framed her bookcase were the only light. “It’s fine, Kin.” I eased my shirt out of her hand and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. August?”
“Yeah?” I stopped in the doorway, but I didn’t turn back to her.
“Thanks for the pizza and the flowers.”
“You’re welcome.” I flashed a smile over my shoulder.
At least that was something.
Sixteen
I ran to the back room. I had a special internet order for pickup, and the wind chimes on my front door jangled again.
It was a busy day. And I was grateful for it.
So very much. Even if my shirt was now sticking to my back and my Spotify playlist had run out and the app was picking music for me.
Unfortunately, it still hadn’t learned what I loved. It definitely wasn’t Justin Bieber. But I was too busy to even check my phone and choose another playlist.
My shop phone rang as I was heading back into the front of the store.
I blew out a breath as I skidded to a stop. A trio of women were holding up different pairs of jeans against them. The ones I’d spent umpteen hours on hand-embroidering—and that I loved with all my heart. Finally, someone had found them.
I’d posted pictures to my Facebook group and website, as well as my Instagram. While I had tons of social proof—and who didn’t enjoy likes and hearts on their posts—I still hadn’t sold a single pair of them.
In fact, I was ready to bring down the price for the Spring Walk in town.
Almost ready.
I was being stubborn, but for once, I wanted to see if I could get a good profit off something I was upselling. Most of the time, I didn’t mind making only a little of the proceeds on my markups. I turned over a lot of items to make up for the narrow margin of profit, but these were special.
My poor pricked fingers said so, anyway. That and my lower back pain from sitting cross-legged and hunched over to embroider for hours on end.
On the brighter side, August was good at massaging away my aches. Depending on angles, he also caused some too.
Whoosh. Not thinking about that right now. Or how amazing his strong hands were.
“These are perfect for your trip. I bet they’d make your ass look amazing.” The blond’s voice was sweet and surprisingly husky. She was wearing an armful of bracelets and had three of my most expensive crystals in one of the wicker baskets I’d found at a flea market over her arm.
Sales. Yes!
“Let me know if you ladies need anything,” I said as I ran past them to the back of the store. Another two customers came in and I felt a headache brewing.
Did I eat?
Was I pregnant?
Get a hold of yourself, Kinleigh.
