Rockstar Baby (Crescent Cove 6)

He tapped the low brim of my hood. “Maybe.”

I went on my tiptoes and gave him a kiss, then tugged on the worn brim of his ever-present baseball hat. “Thanks, Aug.”

“Where you headed?”

“Kinleigh’s.”

“Oh. Tell her I said hi.”

“Sure. I might drag her back here for pizza later. Want?”

“Nah, you guys have fun. I have a sub from Robbie’s.”

“Okay, text me if you change your mind. Maybe I’ll stay at Kin’s.” I shrugged. “Depends on my mood.”

“Well, if you get home before ten tomorrow, I can help you paint.”

“I’ll be here.”

“Bye, brat.”

I waved at him and rushed over to my car. Finally, I was getting something done on my truck. Summer was right around the corner. I didn’t really want to drive it all around town, but finding a spot to set up in was tricky.

Licenses and town ordinances were hard to navigate for mobile food businesses. I’d been going blind looking over all the paperwork, but it did keep my mind occupied. I itched to get to work on the truck again, but the rain was definitely putting a damper on that.

I could work on the inside, but I was still waiting on the custom freezer I’d ordered. It was stupid to do too much when I’d have workmen tromping through it, getting it all muddy.

Doing a running tally of my to-do list made short work of my trip into town. I parked a few doors down from Brewed Awakening. I’d worked the sunrise shift at the diner, so it was still fairly early in the day. The sun—when it was actually in the damn sky and not covered by the eternal mist from the lake—was making for longer days as May was quickly dissolving away.

I’d wanted to get the truck done by Memorial Day, but that didn’t look like it was going to happen even if I had a fleet of fairies to help me. Maybe the Fourth of July would be a good stretch goal.

I waved to Kinleigh as I shook off the rain and stomped my boots on the scatter of rugs just inside the doorway. I tossed my bag into the empty chair across from my bestie. “Hey, girl.”

She gave me an arched brow. “What’s going on there?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not everyone can be put together all the time like you.” I dug into my bag for my project notebook.

“Yes, but at least I look like I didn’t pull my clothes off the floor.”

“Shut up.”

“Jeez, Ive.”

“I was working.” These jeans had been on the end of my bed when I’d dragged them on after work. Not exactly on the floor.

“Right, vanilla.”

Just the word made my stomach roll. “Yeah, I’m about to admit defeat. I’m switching to sorbet recipes. That and gelato.”

“Okay, call me for that part.”

I laughed and sat down. “August picked up my paint sprayer.”

“I know.”

I looked up from my checklist. “You do?”

“Yeah.” She twirled one of her strawberry curls around her finger. “He keeps bugging me about the busted lock on my front door. He made me come with him so I could pick out a new one.”