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“I should be the one saying that to you,” he growls near my ear, and I know he’s referring to my, uh, vocalizations this morning in bed.
We kiss, right there on Cove Boulevard in view of every Tom, Dick, and Dorothy, and I fall in love with him all over again. I can’t believe I’m wearing a diamond ring on my left hand again. I can’t believe I’m Sebastian Finch’s wife.
“Better stop now,” Seb says, not pulling away from me at all. “Otherwise I won’t be able to fix the wobbly stair tread in your gallery without spending some time locked in your office together first.” He pulls me tighter, grinning that roguish grin. “But on second thought, being locked in the office with you for an hour sounds like a mighty fine idea.”
“I have to open the gallery,” I protest weakly.
Sebastian makes a big show of glancing up and down the street. “I don’t see any customers waiting to come in.”
“Stop it.” I laugh, extricating myself from his hold. I unlock the door to my gallery and when we’re both inside, I see none other than Desmond Thomas getting out of his car and heading into Four Cups.
Sebastian sees me watching him and frowns. “Don’t like that guy,” he states.
“Join the club.”
My husband’s brows jump. “When did that change? I thought you were best friends. Dinner dates and everything.” His voice is rough by the end of the last sentence.
I can’t help the smile stealing over my lips. “Are you talking about that evening at Taqueria? It wasn’t a dinner date, and you know it. He only sat down at my table because he could see it pissed you off. Plus, how could it be a date when my sister was there with her kids, and Trina and Mac had joined too?”
“Still don’t like him.”
Glancing at the empty street outside, I reach over and flick the lock on my door. Then I turn to face Sebastian. “Maybe you should take me to the office and show me how you feel, precisely,” I tell him, voice husky.
I squeal when he hauls me over his shoulder, cowboy boots stomping on the hardwood floors. “You shouldn’t ask for trouble, Sweet Peach,” he says, depositing me on the edge of my desk. His eyes are very, very dark, glittering under the fluorescent lights in my office. “You know what happens when you get in trouble.”
I sure do. Must be why I like trouble so much.
An hour or so later,after I’ve pulled myself together and scrambled around to find what’s left of my brain, I make my way to Four Cups and order two coffees.
Fiona glances at my order and arches her brows. “Recon mission? Have you spoken to Mia yet?”
“I ran into her quickly,” I admit. “She seems shaken up.”
“Hmm.” Fiona purses her lips, then nods to the barista, who starts my order. “Let me know if you need anything.”
With my fresh coffees in hand, I make my way across Cove Boulevard, under the canopy of red, orange, and yellow leaves, and over to the barbershop.
Mia is poring over her computer, pen poised over a notebook, brows drawn. She looks up when I push the door open with my hip.
“Hello, hello!” I call out.
Her shoulders drop, and she lets out a sigh. “Hey.”
“Ready to tell me what happened?”
“No. Yes.” She pauses, accepting her coffee. “No.”
Laughing, I sit down in one of the spinning barber’s chairs and give Mia a few moments to begin her tale of woe. And—whoa. When she gets to the kiss, I nearly fall out of my chair. When she tells me what Desmond proposed on her doorstep, I have to use an industrial-strength winch to haul my jaw up off the floor.
“And the worst part is, I could actually use the rent reduction really, really badly.” She angles her head to the now-dark laptop screen. “I was just balancing my books, and honestly Georgia, things are grim.”
“How much do you need?” I answer. “I can lend you money if you’re in a bind.” Lord knows I have enough of it.
Mia shakes her head. “Nothing. I don’t want to owe anyone anything.”
“It could be a gift.”
My new friend just looks at me with sad, proud eyes. “Thank you, Georgia. It’s fine. It’s not as bad as it could be. I’ll manage this month, but I might have to talk to Bailey’s after-school basketball program about putting me on a payment plan. And I can trim some fat off the grocery budget, cancel a subscription or two. It’ll be fine.” She sips her coffee and scowls at the door leading to the apartment. “One thing I willnotbe doing is going to the Thomas family Thanksgiving. They’re probably all awful.”
