Page 17 of Stunner (Whiskey Dolls 3)

“I’m not,” I insisted with a sniff, my ire rising at having been called out, because the truth was, she was right, not that I’d ever admit that to her. God, I’d never live that down. But I was feeling a bit melancholy and had been for the past three days. Specifically, since I last saw Owen. And wasn’t that as pathetic as hell?

As though she were reading my thoughts, a knowing smile tugged at my mother’s face as she used a box cutter to open a new shipment of scarves and beaded bracelets she’d just gottenin. “That Owen Shields, what a gentleman, right? And quite the looker, if I do say so myself.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Mom, will you knock it off?” I whined like a child. However, in my defense, she’d managed to bring up Owen and his superior looks at least once a day for the past three days, even going so far as randomly texting me the day before while I was at my yoga class. “There’s nothing going on between us, so feel free to stop randomly bringing him up at any time.”

Just as she’d done every time I’d protested, she pasted on innocent doe eyes and shrugged. “What? I wasn’t insinuating anything. Just stating facts.”

“Sure you were,” I deadpanned.

After the world’s most awkward pizza party with him, my say-it-like-it-is best friend, and my parents, we’d finally managed to finish packing up the rest of my belongings—and one stolen espresso machine. Despite my claim that he’d already done too much, Owen had insisted on helping cart my stuff across town to my condo and unload everything before finally saying he had to get home to Gus. The offer for him to get his dog and bring him back so I could treat him to takeout as a thank-you had been on the very tip of my tongue before I’d come to my senses and realized what a huge mistake that would have been. It had taken biting the inside of my cheek to keep from spitting those words out.

I had no business, truthfully. It wasn’t like we were friends... right? I mean, he was just being nice because he felt sorry for me after what Jackson had done.

At least that was what I’d spent the past three days telling myself to keep from doing something completely irrational and seeking the man out.

It was on that thought that I let out a sigh and resumed my earlier position.

My mom let out a huff and rolled her eyes as dramatically as I had seconds ago. I might not have inherited her hippie vibe, but there were definitely pieces of her personality thoroughly engrained in me. “Well if you insist on sitting here where everyone can see you, can you at least try and look welcoming so you don’t run off all my customers?”

“You know, you could show a little more appreciation,” I called after her as she started for the back room. “I didn’thaveto come in here to help you out.”

My mom let out a laugh like tinkling bells. “Oh please. Don’t pretend like you’re doing me any favors. You came in here because you’re still on vacation from work and you’ve been bored out of your mind.”

“Hey!” I cried in offense. “I’ll have you know this wassupposedto be my honeymoon. I could be doing a million other things right now, but I thought I’d be a good daughter and give you a hand.”

There was no way in hell I’d admit she was right, even though she probably already knew that I was, in fact, hunkered down in her shop because I’d nearly bored myself stupid on daytime television at home. I mean, there were only so many times I could hear, “You arenotthe father,” before my braincells started dying. I had trouble functioning when I didn’t have something to do. I could have cut my time off short and gone back to work, but I still caught a few whispers and sidelong looks when I ventured out of my condo and into daylight a couple times the past few days. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to go back to the club yet. I figured a few more days, and my drama would die down enough for me to show my face.

Mom shot me a finger wave over her shoulder without looking back at me. “Uh-huh, sure thing, sugar pie. Do me a favor and paste on a smile so you can handle the next customer.”

“There’s no—” My protest was cut off, my mouth dropping open at the serene sound emitted by the chimes above the door dancing through the air as it was pushed open. If I actually believed in things like psychic powers, I would have sworn my mother had them. Sometimes her timing was just uncanny. It went hand and hand with her annoying habit of being able to read my mind at the most inopportune times, such as when I was thinking about a certain tattooed broodster I had no business thinking about.

I wiped the shock off my face and did exactly as she’d said, pinning on my most welcoming grin as I turned to face the customer who’d just come through the door. The striking woman heading in my direction looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly how I knew her.

“Hello. Welcome to The Modern Bohemian.”

“Hi,” she said with a smile just as bright as mine as she stopped in front of the counter across from me. “You’re Asher, right?”

My chin jerked back in surprise, my head canting to the side as I tried even harder to place where I’d seen this woman. “Yeah, I am. Sorry, do we know each other? I’m not sure—”

“Oh, no.” She let out a smoky, throaty laugh. “I’m sorry. I bet that sounded kind of creepy. I’m Hardin Shields, Owen’s sister.”

Ading, ding, dingwent off in my head.

She was even more gorgeous in real life than she’d been in the photos stuck to Owen’s fridge.

The green of her eyes wasn’t quite as bright as her brother’s, but where Owen’s looked like leaves or freshly cut grass in the heart of springtime, hers were flecked with gold and russet, making them look like cat’s eyes, unique and just as beautiful as she was. She wasn’t as tall as Owen but stood about two inches taller than my five seven, drawing even more attention in her direction, and making it so I had to tip my head back slightly tolook up at her, thanks to the stylish ankle boots with a chunky heel she was wearing.

“Yes!” I cried, snapping my finger as recognition dawned. “Of course. I saw your picture on Owen’s fridge the other morning when he was making me breakfast.” I knew how that sounded the instant that last word passed my lips. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean it likethat, like I slept over there or something. I mean, Idid, but I’d gotten pretty drunk the night before.” My eyes rounded so wide I feared my eyeballs would fall right out of my skull. I waved my hands in front of me frantically, praying she didn’t get the wrong idea. “But itwasn’ta drunken hookup.” For the love of God, why couldn’t I stop making this interaction worse?

She decided to take mercy on me just then and interrupted my bout of word vomit. “I know, don’t worry. Owen told me what went down.”

“Oh, okay, good. Wait... he did?” I did my best to ignore the fizzy sensation in my belly at the knowledge that Owen had been talking about me to his sister, but it was as though a bottle of champagne had been shaken up and the cork had popped.

“Yeah.” Sympathy washed over her delicately feminine features. “I’m really sorry about everything that went down last weekend.” She leaned in close and lowered her voice like she was about to share a secret, even though we were currently the only two people in the front of the shop. “Although, if you ask me, that silver-spoon sucking asshole did you a favor.”

A bewildered snort bubbled up my throat, followed closely by a belly laugh so deep it made the muscles in my stomach ache and tremble.

“Sorry if that was a bit too forward for our first meeting,” she said once I’d gotten a handle on my laughter. However, her grin didn’t look the least bit repentant. She knew she spoke the truth and wasn’t afraid of how anyone took it.

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