Page 2 of More Than Words (Trickle Creek: The Lyons #2)

According to the few people I’d asked, the shop space had been vacant for almost fifteen years. It was good for the town to have the vacant storefronts filled with new businesses, and it spoke to the recent revitalization the town had undergone.

Trickle Creek had once been a mining town, and when the mines shut down and so many people lost their jobs, the town’s future had been uncertain until businessman Michael Carlson had come along and seen the untapped potential for tourism.

Over the span of a few years, the ski hill had been improved, a golf course had opened, and new condo units had been built.

What was once a town on the decline had become a thriving little vacation destination. It was the main reason I’d chosen Trickle Creek to be my new home and the base for my bookshop.

That and it was on the opposite side of the country from anyone who knew me, or my ex.

The door was propped open, so I stepped inside, instantly blinking against the dust and noise.

My shoes crunched over debris as I carefully picked my way through the mess. And then I saw him.

Bent over a pile of wood, muscles flexing under a thin gray T-shirt, he looked up at me through a thick lock of hair that had flopped over his eye.

He stood slowly, wiping his hands on a rag as he turned toward me. The second our eyes met, something sparked deep inside a long-forgotten part of me.

Something hot and entirely unwelcome.

He smiled like he knew me.

“Hey,” he said, his voice deep and easy. “You must be Delaney.”

“Delaney Hart.” I blinked and narrowed my eyes. “How did you know that?”

He shrugged, unbothered. “You own the bookstore next door, right? I’ve seen you around.”

That should have creeped me out, but it didn’t. Instead, it only annoyed me.

“Well, seeing as you know who I am already, I’m surprised you didn’t come introduce yourself before interrupting my day.

” I jutted out my hip and crossed my arms over my chest. “Since you’ve been watching me, you may have noticed that I run a peaceful, quiet business that doesn’t involve a lot of sledgehammers. ”

I shot a look at the offending tool propped up against the wall next to him.

His grin only deepened. “Fair. But I’m on a tight timeline. The work needs to get done. And the noise bylaws prohibit me from doing it in the middle of the night.”

Never mind the fact that my tiny apartment was upstairs from my shop. I’d never sleep again.

I didn’t bother to offer up that little piece of information.

“I have a book club starting in a few minutes.”

“And you want me to shut it down.”

“I want you to be considerate of your neighbors.” I’d been nervous from the moment I heard there was a brewery moving in next door.

Construction noise was one thing. But rowdy patrons who’d been drinking all afternoon were another thing entirely, and not exactly conducive to a peaceful, quiet reading sanctuary.

I really hoped that this wasn’t a precursor to how things were going to be once they opened.

He wiped his hands again and walked toward me slowly—not threatening, just…confident. Like a man who didn’t rattle easily.

Like a man who was used to getting what he wanted.

I knew that type.

“Look,” he said when he was close enough for me to see his rich-chocolate eyes. “I know it’s loud right now. And I really am sorry, but there’s no other way to do demolition and construction. I have permits and like I said, a lot of work to do before I can open my doors.”

“Which I assume will bring even more noise and chaos.” I knew I was in danger of being a bitch, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Something about this man got me off-balance.

“I don’t plan on running a nightclub, Delaney.”

His use of my name reminded me I still didn’t know his.

“I hope not…”

“Ethan.” He held out his dusty hand. “Ethan Lyons. It’s nice to meet you.”

I glanced at his hand, but kept my arms crossed until he withdrew it with a cocky wink.

“Look, Ethan. I like things quiet. Predictable. And so do my customers.”

He tilted his head, his eyes scanning my face as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. “Yeah,” he said softly. “You strike me as the type who likes things in a certain way.”

I stiffened. “And you strike me as someone who thinks he can charm his way out of anything.”

“Guess we’re both observant.” He laughed, full and warm, and for a split second, I hated how good it sounded. “How about this?” he said before I could reply. “Let me know when you have book club meetings and I’ll do my best to keep the noise down during those times.”

It was a good compromise. Probably the best outcome I could hope for. Still, the way he was looking at me as if he expected me to be grateful for his basic decency got my guard up.

Don’t be unreasonable, Delaney. He’s not Ken.

“Thank you.” I uttered the words begrudgingly, completely aware that I had now fully entered bitch mode and needed to calm down. I blew out a breath and tried to soften my voice. “I’d appreciate that.”

He flashed his bright smile in my direction as another man walked out of the back room, an armload of broken plaster in his arms.

“Delaney, right?” The man nodded in my direction. He looked a lot like Ethan, only instead of the overly charming smile, his lips were pressed into a scowl.

“Does everyone know who I am?”

The man shrugged and dumped his load in the corner of the room. “Small town. I’m Reid, Ethan’s brother, who’s been conned into slave labor.”

“More like payback for living in my house and using my shed as your workshop for free until you finally found a woman to fall in love with.”

Reid glared at his brother, but I could see the affection between them through the thick layer of grumpiness. Instead of replying, he turned to me. “Sorry about the noise.”

“We’ve reached a neighborly agreement,” Ethan jumped in. “I’m sure this is only the start of what will be a fabulous relationship.”

I doubted it.

“Don’t try to charm me.”

“Not trying,” he said easily. “Just being friendly.”

Exactly.

That was the problem.