My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

“If they can keep my shop safe, good enough for me.”

He jammed his hands into his hair. “Not really. Let me take you home. It’s not that far.”

Then he’d want to come in. And I wasn’t entirely sure I would say no. I shook my head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Kin, it’s not even midnight. You’re going to miss the ball drop.”

Well, that wasn’t unusual for me. A few times I’d been able to party with my friends, but there had been a lot of lonely New Year’s Eve’s in my life.

What was one more?

I booked it across the street before he could change my mind. Right now with a bridal kitten in my arms and memories of just how good he felt around me, I really didn’t have any strength to say no.

And that was dangerous as hell.

I turned at the door to my shop and took a look over my shoulder to see him watching me. Then I closed the door behind me, throwing both the deadbolt and the regular locks. The familiar scent of lemons and spice immediately put me at ease.

The shop was what mattered. That and making sure I didn’t screw things up with Ivy.

She was my family. The closest person to me in the world. She was the important thing. Not this weird connection with August Beck that couldn’t ever go anywhere.

Six

I’d given her long enough. At least I was pretty sure.

I twisted my Crescent Cove softball hat around backwards for the third time in an hour. Then again, the sun was bouncing off the snow like a damn spotlight to the eyeballs today. We’d gotten a good dumping the day before, and I’d spent the better part of my early morning plowing.

It was nice side money in a lake town because we surely didn’t lack for the white stuff.

Unfortunately, my pickup and I were loaned out for a lot of moving too. A nice couple had hired me to plow them out on moving day—bad idea in mid-January—but it had actually given me a reason to bug Kinleigh.

I smoothed my hand down the Art Deco-style sideboard. It needed a little Kin TLC, but it was exactly the kind of thing she loved. Usually, she

would drag me upstairs to help her refinish something like this. She was determined to show me the finer side of rehabbing furniture.

I was usually more interested in creating from scratch, but I had to admit this was a beautiful piece. The cutouts in the front needed a few sections replaced. I traced my thumb over the maze design. I could make an easy template to match that up.

Knowing Kin, she’d have some crazy material stretched behind it to give it…what did she call it? Visual interest. Everything about Kinleigh was visual interest.

She’d probably put some weird pattern behind it and sell it for seven hundred dollars on her website.

Whatever she did would be amazing, but my goal was to actually see her and not watch her perfect backside escaping up the stairs before I could get out of my shop to talk to her. Not that I minded the view, but she was driving me crazy.

Ever since I’d gotten my hands on her New Year’s Eve, I couldn’t get my mind off her. The sounds she made, the way she kissed, even the way she dug her heeled boots into my ass. I wanted all of it again. And fucking again.

I raked my fingers through my hair then shoved my hat back on my head. Enough stalling.

I grabbed the smaller sack of goodies I’d gotten from the moving couple. Evidently, they liked Art Deco everything. And I knew that was Kinleigh’s catnip.

I tucked a larger box under my arm. I’d landed a few cool switch plate covers and three pendant lights that she’d love.

“Pathetic,” I muttered to myself. But I headed up the stairs to her shop anyway.

She’d added new photos to the stairwell. That was Kin—forever finding ways to sell stuff. Tiny price tag stickers in matching designs were artfully tucked in the corners. Obvious but not intrusive to those who wanted to just enjoy her style.

I knew plenty of people took day trips into Crescent Cove to look around our endless little shops, mine included. A lot of us store owners—at least the younger owners who were determined to make our shops successful—did most of our sales online. We had plenty of foot traffic in the summer months, thanks to the lake and the vacation cabins dotted all around Crescent Cove. But the winter was a little rougher. Especially now that Christmas was over.

At least I had enough special orders to keep me busy until April, thank God.