and she’s motivating me to get out on the field for a winning touchdown.
“Don’t get all worked up. Today’s a day off. You can’t keep pushing me into every man we meet.”
“But—” Liv protests, so I stop her before she can go any further.
“Liv, I’ll talk to him because it’s rude to just leave, but this is not happening today. After last night, I need a break from saying yes.”
Liv gives me an exaggerated pout and rolls her eyes.
I turn around to see the man who must be Chloe’s dad. He’s leaning over an account ledger, running his finger down the page, engaged enough that he doesn’t notice me taking him in. He’s around six foot two with a strong, sturdy build, a man that works with his hands. His complexion is darker than Chloe’s. The simple aqua colored shirt he’s wearing makes his skin appear luminescent. Liv wasn’t wrong when she called him a hunk. But, wait. Hold on. I recognize this guy. “Oh my God,” I mutter under my breath.
I turn back to face Liv, who’s watching me with that knowing smirk of hers, but she doesn’t know the half of it. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, okay? I want to check out a few things. You’re gonna talk to him, right? You can say yes to that, can’t you?” Liv practically skips away, waving to Chloe as she disappears out of sight.
I look over to Chloe and then to her dad again. Yep, there is no mistaking it. Chloe is a little older than the Café du Monde photo, but it’s obviously them. When I swiped left on him earlier this week, I felt like I had lost a real opportunity. I didn’t get to read his whole bio, but there was something about him. Something in his eyes and smile. Seeing him now, in the flesh, there’s a calmness about him, like he’s never rushed in his life, yet is never late. He exudes an air of powerful serenity, a stillness in this whirlwind of weekend deal-seekers and looky-loos. When I saw the Eastlake from afar, I’d expected a woman to be the mastermind of these beautifully restored pieces, but now that I see this man, it makes perfect sense. The wood sings at his pitch and frequency. I look around the stall, immersing myself in the energy of this song.
“Bex?”
I’m startled out of my reverie, gearing myself up to speak but suddenly feeling very nervous.
“I’m Devon. Nice to meet you.” He reaches his hand out to me in greeting and with my eyes never leaving his warm smile, I reach out to shake his hand. This guy must think I’m an idiot because I’m moving so slowly, like a snail crawling through a bowl of Jell-O.
I start talking without realizing what I’m saying. Words tumble off my tongue.
“Hi, I’m Bex but you already know that ha ha I just love your stuff I’m a big fan of all things vintage and antique and I love that sign.” I point to the wooden plaque and continue my ramble. “I mean If You’re Gonna Paint It Don’t Buy it—why ruin a good thing, right?” I’m sure my face looks like it’s been painted bright red. I’m so hot and discombobulated I feel like I just drank a bottle of wine in a sauna.
Devon responds with an open and friendly laugh that realigns my senses and puts me at ease, bringing me back down to earth. With a twinkle in his eye and the lines around them slightly scrunched, he says, “Nothing brings me more pleasure than uncovering a hidden treasure.”
I blink twice. Damn. He is hot. And cool.
“I know what you mean,” I say, my nerves settling. “And the adventure leading to the treasure is just as rewarding, don’t you think?”
“The journey, not the destination.” He nods knowingly and taps his fingers on the teak table next to him. “You sound like a regular Indiana Jones.”
My laugh comes easily and honestly. “I almost named my daughter Indiana, but my ex-husband was against it.” I inwardly chastise myself for bringing up Patrick, The Weeper must have rubbed off on me with this ex-talk! I shake it off and get back on topic. “I took my daughter to Belize two years ago, and we did this crazy cave swim excursion thing where you end up in this big cavern and there is—”
“A Crystal Maiden?”
“Yes! Have you been there?” I say, eager to build on a connection.
“I have. Chloe