Page 14 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls (Kissing At Work #2)

“ W here’d you send Big J this time?” Elise asked, pouring from the bottom portion of Celene’s French press.

Mornings in Yielding came with some bite. Celene draped on a gray cardigan she found in the primary suite, deciding not to gripe about her sister taking the rest of her coffee without asking. A fair exchange for borrowing Ajay again. “He’s cleaning out the shed.”

“That old haunted shed? The shed with the bats?!”

Celene sipped at her dark roast, then added a dab more simple syrup she bought from a cute café on Main Street. “We saw a bat fly out once when you were nine. If Ajay runs into one, I trust he has the common sense to avoid it.”

Elise grumbled, but didn’t run to his rescue. She reached for the single cereal box in the cabinet, shaking it to check how empty. “I swear if you indirectly kill my husband...”

“He can outrun a bat.”

“No, he can’t! He has a bad knee.”

“A bad knee from what? Producing tracks on his laptop?”

“A skiing accident, thank you kindly.” She angled her chin high, as if that were some manly badge of honor. “You kill this husband, it’s your responsibility to find me a new one.”

They shared a laugh. Celene’s standards would knock out most of the male population, and Elise would be too big of a weeping widow to notice.

“I’m going by Gertrude’s today to see if they can replace this—” Celene spread her fingers on the aged Formica bar counter. “With marble. Or granite. Quartz. Anything that won’t peel at the edges like this garbage.”

Elise shook at her hair, trotting to the window doors. “No need. They’re here.”

“Who?” Celene peered at a van from Gertrude’s Home Improvement parked on the street lining their yard. “Wait, did you call them?”

“Yo, welcome to our crib,” Elise shouted from the door opening, voice congested and way too loud. June and a wide-set man in matching green flannel trudged over the yard, laughing at the reference. “Come on in!”

Celene cringed at their work boots sinking into carpet she surely wanted to remove. “Hello again, June,” she greeted, then to the young guy, “Are you related to Gertrude, too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Vale,” he replied, immediately backtracking when Celene flinched at the formal and inaccurate title. Sure, the gray-free facial hair on his deep skin hinted at a person in his early twenties, but damn. “Uh, I mean. Former Missus?”

“We’re tied by marriage,” June filled in for him, hugging his shoulders with a proud arm. “This here is Tariq. He and my sister April are happy newlyweds.”

Celene could overlook the month-based names because someone being married before thirty surprised her. Even Donovan and Briana had been a shock. “Okay, cong?—”

“Newlyweds! Oh my god, I’m a newlywed, too,” Elise gushed, aiming her mug to the air in congrats. “Elise Vale Mehta, of the Hell’s Kitchen Mehtas. My husband’s in the backyard, warding off bats.”

“He’s sweeping the shed,” Celene deadpanned.

Tariq rubbed fingers into the side of his beard. “Aren’t bats out during the day rabid?”

“What?!” Coffee sloshed to the carpet at Elise’s full-body stomp in place. “Celene, shit! I don’t want to be a widow.”

“We’ll go check on him,” June announced, patting Tariq to follow her. He hesitated, like he wanted to help wipe the floor. Celene dismissed him with a wave.

Elise blotted a handful of used tissues on the spill. Celene could let her deal with it on her own, but the satisfaction wouldn’t endure, and she’d be left irritated by the stain on their tan carpeting until it’s ripped out entirely. At least the bedrooms had hardwood floors.

While Celene dabbed it with a wet hand towel, Elise ran her mouth. “First name basis with the home improvement lady. Have you met all five lesbians in Yielding already?”

“You don’t know her sexuality,” Celene commented.

Her sister mumbled a “true, true” and a few minutes later, they’d effectively removed the coffee. Celene went back to the bar with no stools, bringing her mug to her mouth.

Yesterday, at Luce’s shop, she began reevaluating Skye’s relationship with June.

Seeing them together once stoked a tepid curiosity; a second time inclined her to assess their comfort.

June moved like she’d spent many afternoons there, yukking it up as a regular.

And while Celene browsed through mosaic samples too splashy and themes outside her taste, she tried to read any chemistry between them.

Visiting Skye had been both a blessing and a mistake. A blessing since it resulted in exclusive fine art, a gift to herself for this house nonsense. A mistake because of Skye.

In her oversized pullover and jeans roughly sheared mid-calf, Skye might fool an inattentive woman into thinking her no-frills, indifferent to her appearance.

Fortunately, Celene was wise in women. That hair had been professionally cut, lending to why, when tousled with strands sticking to her lips and lashes, a photographer could get a centerfold-ready shot at any angle.

And she smelled like muffins and flowers and fucking honey .

Skye wasn’t anyone’s condescending idea of a “small town ten;” she was a ten ten.

Ugh, Celene needed to get out of Yielding.

As she scrolled for new text messages, June reappeared, partner-less. Hiking a thumb, she informed them, “Tariq’s sticking around to finish the shed, free of charge. Big J’s tired of killing spiders.”

Big J, seriously? Recentering herself with a deep breath, Celene asked, “What brings you here?”

“Uh,” June’s eyes swung from Celene to Elise. “Someone here called, requesting a color stain sampler and an estimate.”

Celene’s recentering flew right out the window. “Elise, what the hell?”

“You told me to help,” Elise spat back, indignantly yanking on her faded NYU sweatshirt. “I’m being proactive.”

“Making choices without consulting me?”

“Let’s slap anything on this bitch and call it a day. Purple, vomit green.” Her dry eyes squared in challenge. “Why would you care? You don’t even like it here.”

“Well.” Juneshoved her hands into her pockets, plainly uncomfortable. “There are regulations in this community about house colors. So...”

Celene shut her eyes, conjuring herself at a lake in Maine last year, before wedding prep took over the whole family’s life. Peace. When she could hear herself think. “Elise, could you, without a doubt, look Dad in the eye after doing a negligent job on this?”

“Your Type-A personality will give you a heart attack,” Elise droned as infuriatingly as a stuffy, allergic sister could, spinning to June, who’d wandered further on the deck to squint up at their house. Through the open door, she yelled, “You’re the expert, June. Pick at your discretion.”

“Like hell you’ll leave that to someone else.” Celene strode to Elise with purpose, determined to reel this situation in before it completely slipped from her grasp. “This is the opposite of making my life easier. She’s already here, so I’ll look at the colors.”

“ This is a time suck. Get her to choose anything. We email the realtor. We go back to New York. Done and done.”

Calling the shots uninvited. Celene swore Elise hadn’t come down from her two-day bride-tacular. “I said no.”

“I’m the one with the credentials,” June supplied.

With surprising audacity, she permeated their private conversation, flexing a rose bicep tattoo as she waved upward.

“You’ll need a sanding and a treatment. That alone can take a few days.

” She clomped her boots to unnecessarily demonstrate shaking a flimsy post of their front deck.

“Both your decks are goners, too.” Returning to the sisters, she made direct eye contact with Elise only.

“We could hire contractors to fix those, but we’ll attend to the house first. My team can pinpoint the most cost-efficient stain that’ll fit in with the rest of the neighborhood.

I’ve lived in Yielding forever, so I’ll oversee everything. ”

Any semblance of placid lakes and blue skies had been overtaken by red. Celene fought a snarl when she ground out, “And if I think it’s fucking ugly, then what? Would you fix your mistake, free of charge?”

June whipped her head to face Celene, cheeks pink from the weather or embarrassment. “I—I, um?—”

Elise muttered like she’d been the mature one all along. “Celene, jesus christ.”

“You brought samples. I demand to see them all in a test and I’ll make that final choice, hm?

” Celene stared June dead in her eyes. “I don’t give a damn how it fits the rest of the community.

The neighbors across the street propped twenty creepy garden gnomes outside, and I don’t complain.

Yielding’s regulations aren’t my concern. ”

June, to her credit, held her ground, hedging on her height advantage. “You have some loose siding out back. I’ll use one of the boards to sample six stains.”

“We leave on Wednesday, and only I’ll be back two weeks after. Will that be long enough for the sanding, treatment, stain?—”

“And to get a quote on your deck, yes.”

“I have particulars about that, too. Please don’t jump the gun without my explicit directions.” Her brows hitched like they did in contentious meetings. “Will I be using your aunt’s business, or should you refer me to a competitor?”

An outwardly strong June glanced at Elise for help she wouldn’t get. Elise already checked out as she did when things got intense, entranced by her tablet.

Shoulders sagging, June said, “Gertrude’s is the best in town.”

“We’ll see.”

Uninterested in wasting more of her breath, Celene retraced her steps to the counter.

She smirked, hearing June’s heavy boots scrambling to get those samples started.

And her smirk spread to a true smile at messages from Skye blinking onto her phone.

Skye proposed an impressively competitive rate—expected of someone who probably handled her grandmother’s books.

Celene – 10:12 am

I accept. Please provide a contract.