Page 97 of Small Town Firsts
She frowned and tucked a dark curl behind her ear. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. But you guys have been working your butts off. And I don’t think you’ll mind going solo with him…”
Annette’s ears pinked up. “Maybe.” She snatched the card. “He does love Chester’s.”
“Best pizza in Turnbull.”
“Only pizza, you mean.”
I snickered. “That too. Handily, they make one helluva pie.”
“Okay. But I’ll be in early tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll need your eye to hang all those freaking paintings.”
“You got it.” She stuffed the card in her back pocket and hustled over to Matt.
She might be still in the wonder-if-he-likes-me stage, but I was pretty sure Matt was already there. Part of me wanted to dissuade them. Workplace romance was a headache waiting to happen. But the heart wanted what it wanted and Matt was a good guy. He stepped closer to her as she tugged on his arm until they were just a breath away from touching.
Yep, he was definitely into her.
I turned away from them and zeroed in on the crates against the wall. No doubt, I’d need help with them tomorrow. Now, I just needed a screwdriver or a crowbar to get them open so I could take a peek.
I’d bartered with an artist in Turnbull who did paintings and sculptures. He said he’d make the display cases for the dining room if I hung his paintings in the dining area for the first month with no commission. I couldn’t fault the guy for the hustle and it saved my budget for the first month. Win-win for everyone.
I glanced over at the guys who were currently glugging down bottles of water. Dear God, Ronan was distracting. That long throat worked as he swallowed, and I flashed back to the night on my couch. When he was drinking wine with the sameabandon, but at least then I’d been able to nibble my way along his neck. I could still taste the salt on my tongue.
Good grief. My breasts felt heavy and my nipples were tight with stupid memories clogging up my brain. There was no way I could go out to the guys to ask for a tool.
I was too wound up to talk to Ronan. There had to be something in the junk drawer behind the bar. I’d ordered a multi-tool to have on hand, but who knew if it had actually made it into the correct spot.
The chaos around me was getting to me, but I knew it meant we were getting close to the end. We were in good standing for employees, and while a few of them probably wouldn’t work out past the first week—it was to be expected. A startup required a lot of work, and not everyone was ready for that. Especially those from the young and partying age group who thought they’d get free drinks.
I dug around and found a rusty flat head screwdriver that had probably been in the first taproom. I went over to pry open the first crate and found a trio of paintings that would look good in the main dining room. One of those triptychs where the separate paintings made up a larger picture.
“Wow,” I said softly. It was of the orchard. I hadn’t commissioned him to do anything specific to the Brothers Three or Happy Acres, but it looked like he’d taken it upon himself.
I pulled the pallet wood off the front and set it against the wall, then dug into the packing paper so I could get a good look at them. I knew right where it should go—the main dining room near the windows. It would be protected from the elements when the large glass doors were open, but it would be a feature for photos as well as enjoyment.
I muscled the springtime one out of the crate and duck walked my way over to where I wanted it.
“Why didn’t you call for help?”
My shoulders stiffened at Ronan’s voice. “I can handle it.”
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to. That’s why we’re here helping.” His big hand slid across mine to get to the center of the tin painting for a good grip.
He looked down at me, and for the first time his dark eyes flickered with something more than the genial, helpful Ronan I’d been dealing with for the last eleven damn days.
I backed up. “Thanks. Over in the alcove.”
He glanced over to the cut in section of the dining room. “Perfect spot.”
I nodded. “There’s two more.”
He whistled sharply and Kain’s head whipped around from where he was standing outside. He hustled up the patio’s steps.
“Hina, you trying to do everything again?”
