Page 48

I was glad I had my back to her. She’d have seen all ofthatclear as day.

“Or else I get bored,” I said, and I pushed through the swing door into the back.

I stayed in the back for longer than I needed to, fussing with the cookies, traying them up in their clamshells more carefully than anyone cared about, even after I heard the doorbell chime—just pushing it as long as I could until I pulled myself together and went out to face the next customer.

Luckily, I felt like I got the upper ground, because Annabel texted mehey, give me an idea of something nice for dinner,and I got to poke at her about what it was for and watch her dodge the question trying to be cool until I got her to break down and admit to her cute little date thing with Priscilla, andI enjoyed playing dumb and pretending I’d heard nothing about it. I recommended something with the vegetarian sausages Priscilla liked, because I knew how much it had meant for her when Annabel had started keeping them in her house just for Priscilla, and I knew Priscilla was a squishy, sentimental romantic, so, easy enough, really.

But no amount of the work going well and closing up for the day got me really ready for when I was at Honey’s, the cute little loft bar across the street from Paisley’s bookshop. I leaned back against the doorway for the loft, hearing the music playing from upstairs, and I tried to look cool and collected as I checked my phone every two seconds watching the time for when she might show up.

The damn woman was late again. I was on and off a million times whether to text her, opening the chat and closing it over and over and over, and I was about ready to lose my mind when Paisley’s voice came from next to me, clearing her throat.

Turned out I’d seen her coming out of the corner of my eye, I just had not realized it was her. She was wearing fuckingheels.Black sandal heels and a fitted little black dress—I didn’t think I’d ever seen her in a dress before—and smoky-eye makeup with a nude brown lipstick, and… blonde hair.

“Go ahead,” she said, gesturing to herself. “Just spend all day staring.”

“Uh… sorry, I’m waiting for someone.”

She rolled her eyes. She was… taller than me in heels. I’d never in a million years have guessed I’d be into it. “Does being difficult turn you on or something?”

“Is that a wig?”

“Nah. Always wanted to try blonde. What do you think?”

“You bleached your hair? Just like that?”

She put her hands on her hips, scowling. “All this, and you haven’t said a single compliment!”

Paisley Macleod was seriously the most beautiful woman I’d seen in my life. Where the hell had she pulledthisfrom? Not just that it was an objectively stunning look on her—the blonde suited her damn well, too—but that look like she was so damn alive, that slight thrilling under her expression, the light there in her eyes?

“Where did you get that dress?”

“That’s not a compliment, either!” She folded her arms, leaning against the wall next to me, looking away. “I got it ages ago. And never had the guts to wear it.”

My mouth was dry. “Uh… well. Here we are. Do you want to go in?”

She gave me a look that was actually hurt, and it felt like a knife in my chest. “Should I go change?”

“No! Don’t—uh—” I lost the battle. My face was suddenly molten, and I knew I’d gone from zero to a hundred on redness. “I, er… please don’t.”

She settled into a big smile. “Yeah? You like it?”

“It’s, uh…” I cleared my throat, looking away.

“Comeon.Say it.”

“You… you look beautiful. Seriously. Just… I…” I cleared my throat hard enough it hurt. “I like seeing you come into your own.”

She shifted in closer. “Look at me while you say it.”

Dammit. I moved automatically, turning to look at her, my face burning. We had some cover behind the ferns along the building, but… we were still in public. And yet I responded as if it was just the two of us, like she had me on a hook. “You… you look beautiful. Really, really beautiful.”

She stifled a giggle into her hand. “Thanks. You too. I like your blazer.”

I shouldn’t have worn it. This looked like a date now. “Thanks… I, uh, I like your… makeup.”

She batted her eyes. “Yeah? It’s a new mascara.”

“I am… glad you got it.”