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The exposed bricks that should look worn and dirty instead seemed raw and unflinching. The unapologetic simplicity of the open–space design offered up a what–you–see–is–what–you–get vibe. Add to it the slate–gray, dusty–red, and wrought–iron color palette that didn’t have even a dab of compromise. All of it together was a testosterone palace screaming out at Natalie that she didn’t belong here.
Like she didn’t know that already.
She needed to ignore the giddy feeling in her stomach that started whenever she was near Sean and finish what she came here to do. Then she could get the hell away from Sean, his dude’s dude house, and his sinfully lick–o–licious abs.
Grabbing her red pen and her notebook, she blocked off a three–column chart, making the first column half the size of the other two. That felt better. Nothing like a little organization to ease the uncertainty of life. Across the top she wrote Date, Problem and Those Present. The knot at the base of her neck loosened, and she rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder.
Next, she took her green pen and filled in the appropriate information to the best of her knowledge. She’d need to wait for Sean to double–check the complete listing of who was present when each event took place, but she could at least get the basics down. Humming to herself, she filling in the orderly columns with her neat handwriting. Her blood pressure settled back into its normal level—right in time for Sean’s reappearance.
He hesitated at the base of the steps and her pulse did a quick jig. She tightened her grip on the green pen.
He’d put on a black Sweet Salvation Brewery shirt, covering up the miles of sinewy muscles—the memory of which would take an atom–splitting blast to dislodge from her brain.
“Sorry.” He ran his hands through his thick hair, pushing the waves away from his face and exposing the small scar above his eye—the same one that reminded her of something she couldn’t remember. The more she tried to bring the shimmery recollection into the light, the further it faded into the background.
“Sorry for what?” Being uber hot and utterly frustrating?
He shrugged. “I overreacted about the beer.”
“Don’t sweat it. The floors look amazing. If it was my house, I’d have probably taken off my shirt to save them too.” Oh my God! What was she saying? Change the subject, now, Natalie. “Soooo…” She drew out the word into several syllables while she fumbled for something to say. The notebook on the coffee table snagged her attention. “I made a chart so we could see if there was any overlap on people at each accident site.”
“Of course you did.” Sean crossed the room in a few long–legged strides and sat down beside her on the couch.
Having him so near turned her brain to mush again and she reached up for the comfort of her pearl necklace.
He wrapped his fingers around her hand, stopping her before her fingers reached their destination. “What’s the story with the necklace?”
“It’s a boring story.” She gulped over the lump that had formed in her throat. “You don’t want to hear it.”
“I do.” He squeezed her hand, his thumb grazing the top in a circular motion that eased the tension eating away at her.
Part of her wanted to touch each pearl twelve times. The other part wanted nothing more than to steal a little of Sean’s strength by continuing to hold his hand. Instead, she opted for sanity and slid her fingers from between his. She clasped her hands together in her lap, anchoring herself to reality. “So you know about my family, right?”
He nodded his head.
“Yeah, they aren’t your typical family. Running moonshine, stealing cattle, drunk and disorderly, public protests, and, according to rumor, my grandmother burned down the local Department of Motor Vehicles.” MeMaw had sworn six ways to Sunday that she hadn’t done it. The fire marshal determined an electrical short had started the blaze, but the good people of Salvation rarely remembered that part. “Plus my Uncle Julian lobbied Ruby Sue for years to add pot to her pecan pie. He said it was the only thing that could make it better. Like I said, not typical.”
“I’d call it…” Sean stared at the ceiling while he no doubt searched for the right euphemism for crazy. “Unique.”
“That’s one word for it.” She chuckled. “But if you were the kind of kid who made her first organizational chart in Crayola in pre–school, you’d understand how off–putting that kind of chaotic life could be. I had my first anxiety attack in middle school. I hyperventilated during the science fair when my dad got into a fight with the principal about the school canceling the drama program. Olivia was big into that and it wasn’t fair that they’d cut funding for no good reason.”
That night was seared into her brain. The embarrassment. The panic. The weight of all those judgmental eyes staring right at her. The incident had exposed a crack in her foundation that would only get worse.
Sean reached out and covered her white–knuckled hands. So grateful for the understanding, she almost broke apart but pulled back just in time.
Taking a deep breath, she continued. “My anxiety got worse from then on, but I had my sisters with me all the time. We were like the Three Musketeers, standing together against a town that didn’t much like our family and, by association, us.” It hadn’t been a fun time, but she’d survived. Foolishly, she’d thought the anxiety would disappear as soon as she left Salvation. “Then I went to college, far away from home and my sisters. Halfway through the first semester, I had an anxiety attack so bad I couldn’t leave my dorm room for two weeks. Long story short, Miranda found a therapist who came to see me. Without Dr. Kenning, I’m not sure I would have ever left that room on my own power.”
She slid a hand free of Sean’s comfort and ran her fingers across the necklace. “Dr. Kenning gave me the necklace at the end of my intensive therapy, as a sort of graduation gift. So now you know, I’m just as kooky as the rest of the Sweets.”
He squeezed her hand and leaned in close, resting his forehead against hers. “Normal is overrated.”
“Oh, but wouldn’t it be nice for a change?” She laughed, breaking the spell. An awkwardness seeped into her bones. Only a few people knew the story behind the necklace, and now Sean was one of them. That she’d opened up to him…well, it scared her. Maybe there really was more to him than she’d first thought.
She offered him a strained smile. “Enough about my mysterious necklace. We have a brewery to save.”
He raised an eyebrow at her forced cheer but seemed to play along. Her heart hiccuped in her chest. Damn.
