Page 86 of Falling for the Bad Boy
Isla rolled her eyes. “So what if I have? If you love this woman you need to fight for her. No matter what you’ve done, she’ll have to forgive you.”
“And why is that?” For a heartbeat I wondered if Isla’s words could possibly be true.
“Because love is all that matters.”
I wrenched my arm away. My sister was still the same stars-in-her-eyes dreamer she’d always been. “Not this time.”
CHAPTER 41
Trinity
I checked my watch again. I’d received a text message that my delivery was due to arrive between one and two in the afternoon. I didn’t know how the supplier in Australia had done it, but as long as I got half of what I’d ordered, I still ought to be okay with inventory, at least for the initial grand opening. Next time I’d make sure to source my stash from multiple vendors, so I didn’t run into the same kind of issue in the future. Oliver probably would have given me that advice if I’d bothered to ask him.
A dull ache pounded in my chest at the thought of my dark-haired neighbor. I hadn’t seen him around over the past week and finally got up the nerve to ask about him at the bar. One of the part-time bartenders told me he’d gone back to New Zealand. I’d been angry at him—okay, more like livid—but I never thought he’d pack up and leave before his visa ran out.
As much as I hated what he’d done to me and blamed him for my current predicament, a tiny part of me wasn’t over him yet. I’d probably never be over him. A man like Oliver came along once in a lifetime. At least, a man like Oliver was before he admitted to trying to ruin me. I pushed down any tender feelings that might remain and reminded myself of how he’d used me and almost run me out of business.
“Will you settle down?” Macy examined her French-tipped manicure as she sat behind the huge antique counter. “You’re giving me anxiety.”
“Fine.” I huffed out a breath and took the stool next to Macy. “Do you think they’ll be here closer to one or closer to two?”
“Does it matter?” Macy asked.
“I suppose not. I’ll be sitting here waiting no matter what.” I spun around on the stool like I was five again and sitting on one of my grandma’s kitchen chairs. My siblings used to dare each other to see who could spin the fastest and still walk across the kitchen in a straight line. “Want to do the spin challenge?”
Macy shook her head. “And end up puking my egg white omelet all over your floor? No thanks.”
I continued to propel myself around in circles, spinning faster and faster in an effort to distract myself and try to see if I was still capable of feeling. Since Oliver left, I’d been numb. Like my body had absorbed all of the white noise in the world and it filled me up, leaving no room for anything else but static.
“What the hell?” Macy gripped the counter and stood. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” I used my feet to stop my momentum. My head continued to spin, making it impossible to focus.
Macy stepped toward the front window. “Do you see what I see?”
“Pretty sure I don’t.” I tried to focus on the blurry shape on the sidewalk. It had to be a person. “Is my delivery here?”
“I’d say so.” The door creaked open as Macy pulled on the handle of the front door.
I tried to shake off the dizziness. I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of Oliver on the front sidewalk. My eyes must really be playing tricks on me. I closed them, willing my vision to clear.
“What are you doing here?” Macy asked.
“Delivery for Trinity Ryan.”
My eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. I grabbed for the edge of the counter to steady myself as my vision cleared and I focused on Oliver. My lungs seized, making it impossible to breathe. Then he shifted his attention from the papers he held in his hand, and his gaze met mine.
“Trinity.” The word escaped his lips as his brow furrowed. He took a step toward me, but I put up my hand in an effort to stop his advance.
It was like all of the air in the room had been sucked out. I couldn’t breathe.
Macy let the door close and rushed to my side. “You okay?”
I nodded, trying to find my voice. When I did, it came out in a hoarse croak. “You.” I cleared my throat, not willing to show any weakness. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling under the long sleeve shirt. I watched the ripple of muscle pull his shirt taut, wanting nothing more than to bury myself in his arms. My body gravitated toward his like the tide being pulled by the moon. Invisible forces were at play, and though I kept my feet firmly planted, I couldn’t help but feel as if my whole body struggled to move closer to him.
“It was my fault your yarn didn’t arrive. I needed to fix it.” He pulled on the handle of the suitcase behind him and yanked it to his side. “I went home and got yarn for you. Mostly hand-dyed merino but there are some other varieties as well. Enough to fill your pre-order bags and then some.”
