Page 65 of Small Town Firsts
“Guess I’ll have to tell you all about that when you get to my house. I’m assuming you’re staying?”
“Man.” His laugh was goodnatured if a little sadness crept in. Enough that I sat up a little straighter. “Not you too.”
“Everything good, Kain?”
“Yeah. Just miss your face. And I want to see this orchard you moved across the country for.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees to cut some of the street noise so I could hear him. Something seemed off. “Don’t look too hard or you’ll fall in love with it too.”
“Not a chance. Unless there’s a wave I can ride in these big ass lakes.”
“The storms can be pretty epic, so I hear.”
He grunted. “Doubt that one, bud. Text me your actual address.”
“What happened to your other phone?”
“Just needed to cut ties for a bit. Someone always needing something, for fuck’s sake.”
Something was definitely up. “Like old times?”
“Yeah. I could use some old times, man.”
Again, I caught that edge in his voice. “Hungry?”
“Always. And don’t leave me hanging,Boa. I need a lot of that food. I worked up a powerful thirst too. Got any of that bitchy cider for me?”
I groaned. Sounded like another hangover was in my future. Kain N’ai was an epic drinker. “My hard cider is anything but bitchy. Not ready for prime time yet though. But I have some reserve stock you might like.” My first day in town had included a damn good bourbon. Right up my friend’s alley, even if it would probably put me on my ass by the time he was done with me.
“I’ll see you soon,palala.”
And he was gone.
I raked my hands through my hair and winced. Food and a shower would need to be in my life a little faster than I figured. I checked the time and was glad to see it was just about time for the lunch place to open.
My shopping spree would have to wait. Luckily I’d covered the most important people. By the time I got to the counter, Colette was ringing out someone else. While I was waiting, I spotted a weighty fountain pen under the glass where my books were stacked.
The proprietress chatted genially with the customer but wrapped it up quickly. She turned to me with that beaming smile. “Did I see you eyeing something in the case?”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“That’s my job.”
I tapped the glass where the cobalt blue pen was. “Can you add that to my very extensive pile?”
“You have a very good eye, Mr…”
“Just Ronan.”
“Well, just Ronan, it’s a gorgeous pen. We have a selection of inks to go with it if you need some?”
“I’ll let my father handle that end. He’s a pen snob. Wouldn’t want to pick something he didn’t like.”
“What does he do? Assuming he’s not retired.”
“He’ll probably never retire. He manages a gallery in Portland, Oregon.”
“Wow. That’s a long way from here. Would you like me to mail your purchases?” She lifted the stack of books and moved them to the front counter.
