Page 4 of Any Girl But You
A moment later, Caleb pops into the kitchen through the swinging door. “Hey, Zoey? Quinn Lee is here to grab her items. Need some help carrying them up front?”
I could probably manage, but I’m getting used to the new boot, and the last thing I need is to trip and spill the contents of these pink boxes. “Yes, that’d be great.”
When I step out to the front, I take all of five seconds to scan the small crowd in front of the large display case and pick out the woman I’ve never seen before. Because had she ever been inmy shop, I definitely would’ve noticed.Wow. Red curly hair that reaches just below her shoulders with coils that seem to spring with reckless abandon. Freckles that I can see all the way from across the room. Short, ripped denim shorts and an off-the-shoulder summer knit sweater holds in curves that I’d give just about anything for.
Quinn Lee isbeautiful.
THREE
ZOEY
Wow.
I stare at Quinn Lee in front of my counter, looking at her for the first time, and try to recall everything Frankie and Morgan told me about her this past year. Smart, yes. Funny, yes. Moved back from New York, yes. Setting up the farm, yes. But both of them failed to warn me that Quinn isstunning. Like gut-wrenchingly, from-a-different-era, pinup-worthy, stunning.
I set a box of her cookies at the edge of the counter and fumble with the stack. I really hope she likes these cookies, but it’d surprise me if she didn’t. There are many things in my life that I’m not confident about, but my baked goods are on point.
Be cool. I clear my throat. “Quinn?”
She looks up, and uff da. That smile. It’s so wide and beautiful it takes up almost her entire face. Maybe it’s the way the sunlight is hitting the room, bouncing off the gold strip on the display case, and ricocheting to her, but everything about Quinn Lee darn near glows.
“Hey! Zoey.Finally, my sister can get off my ass. We’re actually meeting,” she says, her hair bouncing like a drumbeat with her as she hops closer to the counter. “I’m telling you now, I’ll absolutely not live up to any expectation you may haveabout me. Frankie likes to lie and exaggerate and is never to be trusted.”
Her voice is fun, lively, and raspier than I would’ve expected for someone so…springy.
“I won’t tell her you said that.” I smile and breathe my bangs out of my eyes. “Your sister is great. So is Morgan. I think I see Morgan more than my own family sometimes.”
“Morgan is the best. But don’t cover for Frankie.” She leans closer like she’s about to tell me a secret and hikes an eyebrow. “We all know she’s in here more than she lets on.”
Quinn grins. I really, really like her grin. It’s warm and bright, like a citrus cookie. Her lips are dark pink, highlighted by her heavy dusting of freckles, and maybe…just maybe…Frankie and Morgan were on to something when they said me and Quinn should meet. “I will not confirm or deny her consumer habits,” I say. “But I will say since she moved to town, I go through product quicker than before. Might just be a coincidence, though.”
When Quinn shakes her head, a few of her beautiful red coils smack her in the face. “Frankie is a sugar addict, and the more we can support her, the better her health journey will be. But…I’ll let her know that you’re not a narc. That’ll score you some points.”
I giggle. What is happening, here? I am a serious businesswoman who is polite and kind, definitely not a giggler. And yet, here I am, yep,giggling, like I’m a teenager. It’s like I’ve never been around a pretty woman before. I swear, this is what happens when you live in a small town your whole life, you know everyone, and there’s only a handful of queer folks.Pull it together. I grip the edge of the display case as I shuffle over to the side, away from the other customers.
Quinn dips her head around the corner and looks at my feet with a twisted mouth. “Ouch. That looks like it hurts like hell.”
“Well, I’m finally off crutches, so I’ve officially entered my ‘winning phase.’” I reach out my hand and give Quinn’s a shake. Her hand is warm, firm, and I very much try to ignore the tiny tingle that flies up to my elbow. “I’m glad I get to meet you in person. Frankie and Morgan have tried their darndest to set up a time for us to hang out, but it’s just been so bananas around here. I promise I’m not as antisocial as I may appear.”
Quinn waves away the words. “Ah. No sweat at all. Frankie has big ideas, but I haven’t had a day off since February, so we’re probably in the same boat.”
I really want to ask her how it’s going revamping the tree farm, but the line is steadily growing, and Caleb is fumbling to both fill orders and do the register. “Sorry I wasn’t here the other day when you stopped in to order these. Had a follow-up doctor appointment for my mangled foot.”
“No worries. Foot definitely takes precedence.” She loops her thumb under her purse strap and bounces back on her heels. “Your employee, Luna, I think, helped me out.”
I rarely get nervous around women. Mostly because I’m not interested in anyone, so there’s no need for sweaty palms and a dry mouth. But here I am, my heartbeat kicking up, and words fumbling from my tongue. In all fairness, Frankie mentioned us all getting together at least a half dozen times, so there’s a little bit of pressure for me to perform. I really like Frankie and don’t want to let her down, which means I want her sister to like me.
Which must explain the nerves.
I carefully tuck the boxes into two large bags and drag them up to the counter, gripping the counter to not slip.
Quinn’s fingertips eagerly tap together, her stacked rings tinkling like a chime. “Oh, I’msoexcited for these cookies. Legit, Frankie doesn’t shut the hell up about the stuff you make.”
My cheeks grow warm. I hate that I’m such a blusher. Every emotion displays on my face like a neon sign, and the only way tohide what I’m feeling is by burying my head in my hands. “That’s reallysweetof her to say, a heavy amount of pun intended.” Oh gosh, that was an epic level of cheese. So embarrassing. Am I trying to flirt here? It’s been a decade since I last flirted with anyone, so my rustiness is probably justified. But this is painful.
“Not sure if Frankie or Morgan told you, but I’m doing the huge Christmas in August event in Duluth tomorrow.” Quinn tugs her credit card from the wallet and hands it over. “I’m so freaking nervous. I’ve held a few weddings at the farm this past spring, but this is my first big event. Trying to get the word out that the Christmas tree farm is back and better than ever.”
I definitely know about the vendor event. In fact, a few times in the past, I sold treats there. But it was so much work that I prefer to stay in the safety and comfort of my shop. Besides—and I’m picturing myself knocking on wood—I don’t really need that event to garner more business. The community is great, and my shop is usually full.
