Page 14 of Blame it on the Kiss
“I’m curious, is all.” He fell right back in step beside her. His interest in Payton cut to the quick, reminding her where his heart had once lay. Maybe still lay.
“When I’m interested in something I don’t include stipulations. I’ll be sure to mention this tactic of yours to my brother.”
He flinched. “Point taken, but I thought no one else knew about the list.”
She inwardly fumed because dammit, he was right. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be this morning?”
He looked at the silver manly-man watch on his wrist. “Not for another half hour. And thanks to you I had a fritter and coffee, so I’m good.”
She slid a glance his way. His boyish simper made her forget herself, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from giggling. From wet clothes last night to dirty ones this morning, for a serious guy, he didn’t let flubs bother him.
His good humor was insanely attractive.
Honor had a feeling no matter what she said he’d find a way to stick around, so she kept quiet. She waved to Jules rounding the corner of her flower shop.
“Hi, Honor,” Jules said, a big white bucket filled with bright colored flowers in her hands.
“Need help with that?” Bryce asked, his body leaning in Jules’ direction.
“Nope. Thanks, though.” She disappeared inside an open glass door.
Honor knelt and retrieved the key from the plastic rock in the flowerbed under the wooden stairs. Jules had been nice enough to plant some roses and maintain a small garden for her since Honor killed even fake plants.
“Honor?” Bryce said.
Key in hand, she turned. He stood really close. Too close. Her knees reacted by wobbling a little. She held herself steady with a hand to the white staircase. “Yes?”
“Tell me you don’t keep the key to your store in a rock.”
“Where else would I keep it?” She scooted around him and started up the stairs.
He followed. “On your person. In your purse. Somewhere it’s safe?”
“I hate carrying a purse and if I put the key in my pocket, I’d lose it.” She wore a striped black and white cotton-blend dress today that fell to her ankles and hugged her body in the most comfortable way. Two small pockets sat on each hip, one held a ten for the breakfast she’d been treated to, the other held lip balm. Not the end of the world if she lost either one.
“What about a car key?”
“It’s under the front seat.” She tossed a quick smile over her shoulder. “There are no key thieves in White Strand. The only crime that happens here is during bingo night when someone uses a black Sharpie to change a number.”
She stopped at the top of the stairs and put the key in the lock. “Umm…” She turned and looked down at Bryce. He stood two steps from the top of the landing. “Thanks for the company but I’ll see you later.”
“I don’t get to come in?”
“It’s still a work in progress.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you I’d really like to see what you and Payton wanted to create?” A swallow worked its way down his throat. She hadn’t considered how hard it might be for him, too, to have lost Payton. Twice actually. Without any sort of conclusion but silence.
Her shoulders sagged. He deserved some breathing room and consideration. “I sometimes forget she’s not here. Is that weird?”
“No.” He took a step up. “I think that’s perfectly normal. I remember when my grandfather passed away and my dad telling me he still expected him to walk through the door. And on several occasions my dad even picked up the phone to call him before remembering he was gone.”
“How old were you?”
“Eleven.”
“I’m sorry. Do you remember him?”
“A few things here and there.”
