Page 11 of The Last Key (Baker Girls #2)

CHAPTER NINE

KENNEDY

Thursday

“Hey, you busy now?” I ask Claire over the phone as I sit in Devon’s car outside the local coffee shop, Busta Brew, blowing on my latte.

“No, I’m just driving. How was the store today?”

“It was good. Better than I thought it would be, honestly. I think I’ve figured out a couple of your issues.”

“Hit me.”

“First, people seem unaware that it’s there—or what it is.

One person said they hadn’t realized until recently there was one in Brighton and they were going to one in San Fran.

Another didn’t realize what the store was, and it was her first time visiting.

She’d been shopping at the place next door and decided to stop in.

She was thrilled to find so many makeup and skin care products locally and loved that you offered free samples.

She left with a huge bag of stuff. I think getting word out about what your business is and that it’s there in Brighton are the most essential things.

And typical stuff won’t work here—online ads or whatever else.

People here rely on word of mouth for so much.

Which got me thinking. You definitely have a market here, so what if we hosted an event to get people in the door? ”

“What kind of event?” she asks, her voice echoey.

“I’m thinking some kind of girls’ night in.

We could have wine, facials, maybe even makeup tutorials.

If we mention it at some of the local businesses or even offer to let them have some products there, word of mouth will spread.

Also—and I can’t believe Devon or Gladys never thought of this—you should have your skincare products at the inn.

People love free samples and knowing they could get more right in Brighton if they love them would be huge.

Devon said they’re booking more and more weddings there, so you could even negotiate something to have some products in welcome baskets or favors. ”

“Jesus, Kend. You sure you didn’t major in marketing? I have an entire team for that, and none of them have suggested it.”

“Because they’re good at marketing. What you need is someone good at Brighton. Or the people here, at least.”

“And that’s you. You fit there. Always have. Unlike me.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“It’s true. Speaking of, did you make a move on Devon last night?”

“No,” I say nonchalantly. “It was late.”

“And guys are never horny late at night. Grow some ovaries. Honestly, I’m getting blue balls for you. This is ridiculous. Your hooha was meant to be used and abused, babe. You’re treating it like a fancy restaurant you have to have reservations for.”

“And you treat yours like a McDonalds. That’s not my fault. It’s quality over quantity.”

“Rude. It’s not a McDonalds. It’s a Burger King, if anything. You can have it your way.” She laughs, the sound reverberating around her car and echoing through my phone. “And by the way, if you think Devon wouldn’t be a quality lay, you’re kidding yourself. ”

“I’m sure it would be… fucking amazing, okay? But I’m not having him my way until I know how he wants me.”

“You know a good way to find that out?”

I sigh dramatically. “I’m sure this is going to involve me getting naked.”

“It wouldn’t hurt, Kend. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Happy to help. And thanks for your advice. I’ll think it through and come up with a plan. Talk later.”

“Yeah. Oh, hey, any chance you want to join us for karaoke tomorrow night?”

She makes a weird wheezy sound, and it takes me a minute to realize she’s trying not to laugh. Finally, she can’t hold it back anymore and bursts out laughing.

“Karaoke? No fucking way. I’d rather stick something sharp in my ear than go to karaoke. Actually, same effect.”

“I told Devon he was crazy to think you’d come, but he thought you might get enjoyment out of watching drunk people make idiots of themselves.”

“Even that is not worth bleeding from the ears.”

“Noted.”

“Okay, I gotta go, babe. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

She hangs up, and after a sip of my latte, I pull out of the parking lot and head for the inn.

“What do you think?” I ask Devon and Gladys after I’ve told them about my idea to have some of Claire’s skin care products at the inn.

“It’s smart,” Gladys says. “And I’ll be sure to add her to the list of shops we recommend people check out. Since it’s not right downtown, I didn’t have it on there before.”

“I agree. It’s a good idea. And we can mention it to any brides who come through. Maybe if Claire has someone on staff who does makeup, we could recommend them as a wedding day option. At the very least, we could offer a discount to brides who purchase through Bloom Beauty.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that, but that’s perfect. And if the bride and bridesmaids wear the products and like them, we can direct them to Bloom. If they’re local, they can buy more at the Brighton store, and if not, it’s still new customers for her.”

“Well, maybe you should forget about writing and go into marketing,” Gladys says.

“I don’t know about that,” I say with a laugh. “Social media is the bane of my existence. I only use it for book groups and keeping up with my family. But I’m a good people person, and I think that’s what she needs.”

“Working here at the inn, helping Claire. Before you know it, you’re going to be like Kirk from Gilmore Girls with all the jobs in town,” Gladys says with a grin.

“It’s just temporary,” I say with a laugh, causing Devon’s eyes to darken. “At some point, I’ll need an actual job.” Even if what I’ve been doing here is a lot more fun.

I’m getting comfortable in bed when Devon walks into the room shirtless, in gray mother effing sweats.

Why are they sexier than other colors? Seriously, I was shopping for sweatpants the other day and saw some unisex ones.

I flicked through all the colors and stopped to ogle the male model in the gray ones only.

Exact same picture and I couldn’t see any peen outlines, but still, the gray was sexier .

At this point, he might know how women feel about a man in gray sweats and he’s doing this on purpose. Every day our teasing reaches a new level. I’m not complaining. It’s fun seeing how he’ll react and getting that little thrill every time he says or does something I’m not expecting.

“You okay?” he asks, and I realize I’m ogling him like I did the sweatpants model.

“Fine. Just thinking you should be a sweatpants model.”

He stops in his tracks and looks down. Then he grins. “Oh? Why? Do they look good on me?”

Why bother pretending? Claire made a good point that I won’t know if I don’t try.

I might not be as brazen as her, but I can keep having fun with this.

Eventually, there will be a moment, right?

Or one of us will break. Maybe we’ll both break at the same time in a super-hot moment where we rip each other’s clothes off, and then—oh god. Claire’s right. I do need to get laid.

“Kennedy,” Devon rumbles, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to me, his eyes burning into me. If I wasn’t horny before…

“Hm?”

“I asked if you thought I look good in these. Then you spaced out.” He raises his eyebrows.

Clearing my throat, I lean forward and run my hand along his waistband. “You look hot in these.” His eyes widen as I lean closer, and he swallows hard. “So hot you should probably take them off.” Then I pull on the waistband and snap it against his stomach before leaning back as I laugh.

“Oh, you think you’re funny?”

He stands up as I continue laughing. Then, the smile slides right off my face as he pulls the waistband away and rolls his hips while slowly pulling them down, leaving him in tight boxer briefs.

Don’t look at his penis. Don’t. Do not. No peen.

I force my eyes up to the ceiling, and now he’s laughing. He drops the pants on the floor and climbs onto the bed, purposely climbing over me to get to his side. “Now who’s hot? ”

I smack his chest as he sits down beside me.

“Hey, Dev?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever thought about modeling again?”

He tosses the covers up and slides underneath them, flipping his lamp off as he does, so mine is the only one illuminating the room.

“I still model sometimes.”

“For charity and local stuff, but I mean get back into it. Maybe not what Justin does, but…”

“Honestly? Not really. Sometimes I think about it. There were parts of it that were fun for sure. When Justin and I did that underwear campaign in our early twenties, we had so much fun. But as social media became a fixture in everyone’s lives, it just got harder for me to enjoy it.

I’m not like Justin. I don’t want to take pictures with fans at every Starbucks I walk into. Why do you ask?”

I shrug. “Just curious what you see for your future.”

“Oh. This… I guess.”

“Sound more excited,” I tease.

“It’s not that I’m not excited. I guess I just feel like I’m already living my future. Or rather, that what comes next isn’t about a job.”

“That makes sense.”

“What about you? What does your future look like?”

I groan. “You weren’t supposed to ask me. I barely know what next week looks like, other than the reunion.”

“Okay, what would the dream be?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Thus far, it’s always been to build a career at a long-lasting online magazine or news site, and hopefully writing more meaningful pieces as I go. Right now though… I don’t know. Maybe I’m chasing the wrong dream.”

“Or maybe you’re burned out and need a break. Have you considered leaving New York? Trying to find a job in a different city?”

I nod slowly. “A little.” I’ve been considering it a lot more these last few days. “Right now, I’m trying to figure out what I want most of all, then I’ll figure out where. Until then, I’m enjoying being here. With you.”

He searches my face for a moment, then smiles softly. “I’m enjoying it, too.”

Flipping my light off, I slide under the covers. My stomach ablaze, I snuggle against him, curling my body around his.

I have no idea what we’re doing anymore. It’s terrifying, but I like it.

“Hey, what are you thinking about for your future if it’s not your career?”

“Oh. Um, personal stuff, I guess. Falling in love, having kids.”

I lift my head to look at him, only to find him staring back at me. Desire wraps around me as heat fills the space between my legs. I could kiss him right now, but at that thought, I can’t breathe. My chest tightens, and I’m not sure if it’s out of fear or excitement.

“Anyway,” he continues, “that’s further down the line. Like you said, I’m just enjoying where I am right now.”

His lips graze my forehead, and he pulls me closer. As I rest my head on his shoulder again, he gently strokes his fingers down my arm, over and over, as my eyes grow heavy and I slowly drift off to sleep.