Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

Returning his nod, I walked away, hoping for their sake I was right.

* * *

The parade, thankfully, went off without any mishaps. I was needed only once to sew a tear in the shoulder of Cinderella’s costume. I’d hurried to the market where Bailey was manning my stall only to find she wasn’t alone. Vaughn, Cooper, Jess, and Emery were with her.

They whistled and catcalled as I strode up in my Snow White costume and I rolled my eyes. “Oh yeah, my puffy sleeves are so sexy.” I slid in behind the stall and squeezed Bailey’s shoulder. “Thanks, babe.”

“Anytime. I sold a ring with peridot.”

“Great.” I glared up at our friends. “You guys will put people off hanging around like this. You’re intimidating in a group.”

“Gee, thanks.” Jess snorted. “And here we came over to ask if you’d like anything to eat or drink.”

“Hot chocolate,” I said without hesitation. “And a churro would not go amiss.”

“Ooh, ditto,” Bailey added, reaching for her purse.

“No, I got it.” I opened my cash box.

“Neither of you has it,” Vaughn said. He followed Jess, Coop, and Emery, strolling off to get our order.

“Does he let you pay for anything?” I watched the tall, stupidly handsome hotelier walk away. He had a strong swimmer’s build beneath his wool coat and suit pants. I had Bailey’s description and a good imagination, so I knew he was drool-worthy model perfect beneath his expensive clothing.

“Are you ogling my fiancé?”

I released a weary exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m …” Sexually frustrated, horny, turned on all the time and have been since Michael Sullivan screwed me in my workshop.

Not that I’d told Bailey about the incident. She would use it as an excuse to make me talk about my feelings.

“You’re …?”

“Exhausted,” I lied. “I’ll be glad when the carnival is over.”

“Sacrilege!”

I jumped in my seat as Kell Summers appeared out of nowhere. He was dressed like a very short but handsome Prince Charming.

He glowered down at me. “Just for saying that, I am no longer asking you to do what I was about to ask you to do. I’m telling you.”

Oh no. What was I about to get roped into now? “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Speed dating. We’re hosting it in Bailey’s fiancé’s hotel.”

“His name is Vaughn,” Bailey offered.

Kell grinned. “But calling him your fiancé sounds so much better, doesn’t it?”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Which reminds me”—he leaned on my stall—“I’d like to talk to you about letting me do a reading at your wedding. It’s a little homage to your history here as a descendant of a founding family.”

I could almost feel Bailey’s need to scream, so I cut in, “Uh, Kell, speed dating?”

“Oh, right. We’re trying it out. Next weekend. I’m roping all of our singles into it, and you do count as a single despite a rumor or two about you and a certain detective.” He winked at me.

Oh, kill me now.

Goddamn small towns and their running mouths.