other store owners are getting their faces painted too. Kael has a few of his employees painting as well, but they aren’t as good. So make sure you get in his line.” Bella gave me a final nudge while Amie eyed me with a shit-eating grin on her face.
There was no way I was getting in his line. I grabbed my coat and purse and dragged my reluctant ass out the door. All the shops would be closing in another hour so the snowman competition could be judged while the band played until midnight for the slew of ice skaters.
“Great night.”
I glanced behind me as I wormed my way into Kael’s store. “Hi. Yeah. It couldn’t be more perfect,” I replied to Mike Holmes, the banker, one of the two eligible men in Epperly. Three … but not according to my daughter.
“How’s business?”
Dead.
“Good. ’Tis the season to be grateful for every customer.” As I pulled off my mittens and slipped them into my pockets, Kael glanced up from the table covered in a palate of paints, brush in his hand, white paint smudge on his nose and smeared along his beard.
He gave me two seconds, maybe three. Without so much as a smile, he returned his focus to the young girl on the stool next to him getting her face painted.
“Well, I’m definitely stopping by tomorrow to grab all my favorites from your store. One-stop Christmas shopping,” Mike continued the small talk, saying all the right things.
“That sounds great. I’m not placing another order this year, so early shopping is a good idea.”
“I bet you’re running pretty ragged … you know … kids, work, Craig’s parents. I don’t know how you do it.”
Apparently, I’m a pack mule.
The lines moved forward, and I veered into the shorter line that wasn’t Kael’s. “Yeah. It’s been a crazy year, but I’m doing fine. The kids are doing well. And I can’t do much about Craig’s parents’ situation, but every day I can help them stay in their home is a good day. How are your parents? I heard your dad had heart surgery a few weeks ago.”
“He did. But he’s recovering really well.”
I nodded. “That’s good.”
“Yeah.” Mike had a look. It was different and yet familiar. Before I could place the familiarity, he spoke again with a nervous demeanor. “Say … how would you feel about getting a drink sometime? Or if you don’t drink, we could share some nachos at the bar and grill.”
A date.
Almost a year after Craig’s death … a guy asked me out on a date. I wondered how long he’d been thinking about it. Or maybe he just asked it on the fly out of nowhere. I actually liked that scenario better.
“Um …” I thought of the rumors. Drinks or nachos at the bar and grill was different than screwing Kael in private. I was ready for sex, but was I ready for a small town to plan my next wedding? That was what would’ve happened.
Marry Mike or move to a different zip code.
“Maybe. Let me think on it until you come by the shop tomorrow.”
He chuckled. “That’s fine. No pressure. I honestly wasn’t sure if I should ask or what the appropriate time to wait should be.”
My nose wrinkled. “It’s not that. It’s…” I lowered my voice “…small-town gossip.”
“Ah …” He nodded. “Gotcha. Well, you can always have dinner with me at my house if privacy is what you need. Just…” he held up his hands and smiled “…throwing that out there. Again, no pressure.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you need to get back to your store, Mrs. Smith?”
I pivoted toward Kael’s slightly gravelly voice as he cleaned his brushes. “My daughter is watching the store. It’s fine.”
He jerked his head toward the empty stool next to him. “I’m sure she wants to do something besides watch the store. I’ll squeeze you in now so you can get back. I don’t think anyone would care.” He winked at the next person in line.
Tillie.
Tillie was next in his line. She gave him a flirty grin and shook her head. “Elsie can go next. That’s fine.”
“No. Really.” I pointed to the other employee whose line I was in. “I can wait.”
“Get over here.” Kael patted the stool with his hand.
I gulped and started sweating in all the embarrassing places. My body cheered at the opportunity to be closer to him. My head wasn’t as excited. Wearing a sheepish grin for cutting in line, I weaved my way through the congestion to his stool,