Part 3 (2/2)
She also needed coffee.
Dreams of her misdeed with Bryce had interfered with all her good sleep. Leaving bad sleep. And bad feelings. She covered a yawn with her hand.
Someone waving his arm caught her attention above her fingertips.
There was a G.o.d.
She moved toward the front of the line, saying h.e.l.lo to everyone she pa.s.sed, pausing for a second to give white-haired Mr. Case, owner of the building housing her new shop, a kiss on the cheek. She reached her favorite old guy right after that. ”Uncle Tuck, hi.”
”h.e.l.lo, Suns.h.i.+ne. Thought I'd buy you breakfast.” He wrapped her in a hug that made her feel six years old all over again. She hung on a little longer than necessary.
”Thank you. Good surf this morning?” His board shorts were damp and his hair smelled like salt.w.a.ter. Tucker Mitch.e.l.l had been one of the best pro surfers once upon a time.
”Not bad. Kicked a few of the young guys' keesters.”
”I'm sure you did.” Her great uncle still did aerial maneuvers that drew gasps from beachgoers.
They stepped to the counter where she ordered large everything. Seemed like a good idea considering the full day ahead. Sophie's parents and extended family were arriving later this morning, and Honor had offered to make sure everyone got settled into the White Strand Cove Inn. Then the bridesmaids had a date to pick up their dresses before everyone gathered for the rehearsal dinner.
”I hear there's a wedding this weekend,” Tuck said, handing over a bag of fritters and her mountain roast coffee as they stepped away from the counter. ”You still aiming to dodge that bullet?”
”You know how I feel about those bullets.” Tuck wore bachelor like a badge of honor. He'd been engaged once, but the morning of the big day he'd called it off. Blamed his fickle heart and thought his fiancee deserved better. Honor understood the feeling.
He pulled on her ponytail. ”Don't let your mother hear that.”
”You're the only one who hears it.” She took a sip from her cup. ”This is perfect. Thank you.”
”You're the only chick I know who drinks her coffee black.”
”Why mess with a good thing?”
”Nicely said, Padawan. You got time to sit?” He nodded to a table in the corner.
Honor opened her white paper bag and breathed in the sweet perfection. ”I wish I did, but I've got to run to the shop and then do a bunch of wedding stuff.”
”h.e.l.lo, Tucker,” Mrs. Landry said with a saucy ring in her voice. She gave a kind, genuine smile to Honor as she scooted past them.
”Morning, Evie.” He reached out with his arm and...
”You did not just pinch Widow Landry's b.u.t.t,” Honor said, wis.h.i.+ng she could unsee the deed. Everyone in town knew the two of them had a thing for each other, but jeez....
”You're right, I didn't. More like squeezed.” The corners of his thin, weathered lips lifted high enough to reach his pale blue eyes.
”TMI, Uncle Tuck.” She kissed his cheek. ”Thanks for breakfast. Love you.”
”Don't be a stranger,” he called as she hurried out the door of the cafe and down the palm tree lined street.
She slowed her steps to enjoy the quiet morning and pulled her first fritter from the bag. Still early, the shops were silent, and she gazed into the windows as she walked and ate. She crossed over Bluff, glancing south to the sea, dustings of suns.h.i.+ne sparkling off the water a few blocks away.
Two more fritters, another block. The sun grew more insistent. A car horn sounded, drawing her attention to the street. Dylan, Cooper's best friend, waved from his beat-up convertible and shouted, ”Hey, Honorlicious.”
”Hey, Dylan. Keep your eyes on the road.”
He saluted and she turned to watch him drive off. Duct tape covered his right taillight and a black and white ”Be Excellent to Each Other” b.u.mper sticker with a picture of Abe Lincoln helped hide chipped paint. She smiled, dug out another fritter, this one loaded with powdered sugar, and whirled back around.
Where she collided with a hard chest, inhaled the powdered sugar, and proceeded to cough in a fit of chokehold proportions.
One big, warm hand wrapped around her upper arm. A second hand patted her back. He said something, but she couldn't make it out since she was about to hack up a lung. She knew his voice, though. And his delicious smell. His hands stayed put until she finally quieted down.
Through watery eyes, she glanced up at her roadblock. His gray T-s.h.i.+rt had coffee stains splattered across it. And... she sucked in her bottom lip... fan-fritter-tastic, she'd spit up on him, too.
She moved her almost-empty coffee cup to her other hand and wiped away the evidence of her spew. Mortified and at a loss for words, she kept right on rubbing his chest like a total lunatic.
And because he had a really nice chest. It distracted her from the apology that finally landed on the tip of her tongue.
”You done?” Bryce's deep, s.e.xy voice brought her back to her senses. What the heck was she doing?
”I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. I'll buy you a new s.h.i.+rt, or clean this one.” She finally met his amused, and also very amiable, eyes. ”Fritter?” She held up the bag.
”No, I'm the one who's sorry. I was reading a text and not watching where I was walking. You okay?”
”Yes.”
They stared at each other for several super-charged seconds before he took the bag and looked inside. ”There's only one left.”
”It's all yours.” No way did she plan to put any more fritter near her mouth.
He pulled the baked treat out and took a bite. She watched him like he'd been coated in powdered sugar, too, and she wanted to lick it off him. Not good. Sooo not good. She looked away, reminding herself she was behaving like the worst kind of friend.
He finished it off, crinkled the bag into a ball, and said, ”Thanks.”
”Sure. I, uh, guess I'll see you later at the rehearsal dinner.” She stepped around him. ”Have a good day.”
She'd pa.s.sed three stores when she felt him come up beside her. He'd either taken the minute to watch her backside or decide if he wanted more of her company. Both could only lead to trouble.
”Where you headed?” he asked.
She cringed and thought about changing directions. Unpacked boxes and a mess of inventory cluttered the antique store, and besides that, Honor liked to keep quiet about it. But since Bryce already knew about the list, she said. ”To my antique store.”
”Does it have something to do with Payton's list?”
Her heart hurried its beat. ”Yes, but here's the thing.” She tossed her coffee cup into a trashcan. ”No one knows about the list. People in town know Pay and I wanted to go into business together, and I've told everyone this is to honor that dream. But if you could keep the whole list thing to yourself, I'd really appreciate it.”
”My lips are sealed.”
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