My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

It was far too soon to know if there was a baby on the horizon. And oh my goddess, there were another two people at the jeans display.

“I saw these on Instagram and had to come in,” my new customer said.

I pressed my lips together to hide a goofy smile as I climbed the few steps into the clothing-heavy zone of my shop. It was the only place I could keep clear to do photo shoots for my website. “Hey, Cathy. I found your order.”

The customer in question had her arms full of a lamp and was pointing at a chandelier hung in the corner over one of my boudoir setups. Her sweet round face was lit with excitement. “Is that for sale?”

“Everything in here is for sale—well, except for my big pink couch in the dressing area. I know a guy who could make one for you though.”

“Oh, that nice young man downstairs maybe?”

“That’s the one. August Beck’s furniture is beyond compare.”

As were some of his other attributes. Which I was not focusing on right now.

“I have been thinking about a new bedroom set for my twenty-fifth anniversary.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. When is it?”

“November.”

“I’d definitely talk to him. I have one of his beds over here if you want to take a look.” I set her box with her online order on the settee I’d moved out of storage yesterday. I’d been stuffing the shop full of items for the last few weeks, hoping to capitalize on the town-wide sidewalk sale.

“Oh, I’d love to.”

“Let me take these.” I added her finds to the pile.

“Thank you, dear. I just love your shop.”

“I’m so glad. I love to go treasure hunting, as you can probably tell.”

“Oh, I can. Each time I come in there’s something–several somethings—new.”

I beamed at her. “One of a kind items are just waiting for the right buyer to find them in my attic.”

That sounded a little woo woo, but so what? I truly believed it.

She patted my arm. “I just love that. I could spend all day looking around.”

I tucked my arm through hers. “Wait until you see the bed. Maitland Enterprises was tearing down one of the old mansions on the lake. I dragged August over there to gather some reclaimed wood off the beach and what they left behind in the demolition. We ended up with three truckbeds full of prime pieces.”

Cathy breathed out a happy sigh as we stopped at the foot of the bed. “Oh, it looks like it belongs on that Joanna Gaines program.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Shiplap!” We both said together.

She immediately went to the oversized pillows and linen duvet I’d repurposed.

The four poster bed had been entirely built with the reclaimed wood. The headboard was a simple design of slatted pieces August and I had painstakingly picked out to match. I swallowed at the memory of how long it had taken for us to get the warped wood to straighten out. We’d put it together last fall—before the kiss.

He’d grumbled the entire time about using imperfect wood until the final project came together. The mix of old, weathered ash and August’s modern style made for a perfect piece. The posts were simple, but I’d prettied it up with gray muslin and fairy lights to make it even more magical.

Cathy traced her fingers along the little bench I’d convinced August to make out of the last of the scrap wood. “I will definitely talk to your young man.”

I opened my mouth to say he wasn’t mine, but she was on a roll.

“But I think I need this today.” She tapped the bench.