and Flynn felt much more confident than she had the day before. She gave her damp hair one final rub and tossed the towel on the rocking chair, which she’d turned around to face the corner the night before. She was pretty sure the visitation from Esther had been her imagination, but there was nothing wrong with sending a message, was there?
She turned and checked herself out in the big standing mirror in the corner. Her jeans were a bit wrinkly, but her oversized cable-knit sweater hung low enough to cover most of it, and since the professional wardrobe Freya’d ordered wasn’t in yet, it would just have to do.
Flynn worked on pulling a stray piece of ya rn into her sweater as she walked out into the living room. Her eyes registered the two male legs sticking off the edge of Aunt Esther’s prim little love seat, but her brain took a moment to catch up. When it did, she jumped back and screamed, then put her hand over her pounding heart as she gripped the wall for support. Tucker let out a startled bellow of his own and jumped up off the sofa, landing squarely on his feet.
“ Oh, my God,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “How drunk was I last night?”
“ Hmmm?” He looked at her blankly for a moment, then his eyes widened. “Oh. No. Not very. But… um.” He yawned and shook his head quickly. “Yeah. Remember the whole ghost thing?”
Flynn recalled clutching the back of his jacket in her fist like it was a tether rope on a rock wall as she made him open the front door for her.
“Yeah. Little bit.”
“ Well, you seemed kind of freaked. I thought I’d just sit here until you fell asleep. You know. Make sure you were okay.” He ran his hand through his hair. It didn’t do much good. “Guess I must have passed out.”
Flynn watched him standing there with his hair sticking up and couldn ’t help but smile. She lowered her hand from her chest and took a deep breath.
“ Thank you. That was sweet.”
“ What can I say? I’m a sweet guy.” He grimaced, rubbed his neck, and nodded to indicate the tiny sofa. “Wow. I had no idea Nazis made love seats.”
Flynn laughed before she could stop herself, then tried to tighten up her expression when he looked up.
“Can I... uh... make you some coffee?”
“ Yeah,” he said, smiling. “That’d be nice.”
His smile looked better this morning than it had yesterday. So did he, even with the rough shadow that was claiming his jawline, and the fact that he was rumpled from head to foot and his hair was shooting out in a thousand different directions. He was ... cute.
Cute. Good God. She hadn’t thought of a guy as cute since the ninth grade.
She smiled. “I’ll just go make some coffee, then.”
Tucker nodded, but then waved his hand in the air to stop her. “Actually, forget it. Esther didn’t have a coffeemaker.”
Flynn felt a tinge of horror strike her heart. “She didn’t? Oh, how sad.”
“ Well, it’s not the last ten min utes of Old Yeller, but sure.”
Flynn let out a little laugh, which was followed by a toe-scuffing silence. She wasn ’t sure how to deal with Jake Tucker. They were clearly from different worlds. He was her employee, technically, but he was also the closest thing to a friend that she had so far in Scheintown. Still, seeing him this early in the morning was strangely intimate, especially considering she’d known him for less than twenty-four hours.
So many reasons to feel awkward, she thought. How to choose just one?
“ Well,” she said, “I guess they’ll have coffee at the inn, then? Maybe we could go there?”
He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. “Well—”
“ I mean,” she said quickly, holding her hands up to stop him before he could misread her and think she was asking him out, “unless you want to go home and get some real sleep. Which, of course, you do because you’re a bartender and this has to be crazy early for you.”
“ Actually,” he said, the edges of his lips
She turned and checked herself out in the big standing mirror in the corner. Her jeans were a bit wrinkly, but her oversized cable-knit sweater hung low enough to cover most of it, and since the professional wardrobe Freya’d ordered wasn’t in yet, it would just have to do.
Flynn worked on pulling a stray piece of ya rn into her sweater as she walked out into the living room. Her eyes registered the two male legs sticking off the edge of Aunt Esther’s prim little love seat, but her brain took a moment to catch up. When it did, she jumped back and screamed, then put her hand over her pounding heart as she gripped the wall for support. Tucker let out a startled bellow of his own and jumped up off the sofa, landing squarely on his feet.
“ Oh, my God,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “How drunk was I last night?”
“ Hmmm?” He looked at her blankly for a moment, then his eyes widened. “Oh. No. Not very. But… um.” He yawned and shook his head quickly. “Yeah. Remember the whole ghost thing?”
Flynn recalled clutching the back of his jacket in her fist like it was a tether rope on a rock wall as she made him open the front door for her.
“Yeah. Little bit.”
“ Well, you seemed kind of freaked. I thought I’d just sit here until you fell asleep. You know. Make sure you were okay.” He ran his hand through his hair. It didn’t do much good. “Guess I must have passed out.”
Flynn watched him standing there with his hair sticking up and couldn ’t help but smile. She lowered her hand from her chest and took a deep breath.
“ Thank you. That was sweet.”
“ What can I say? I’m a sweet guy.” He grimaced, rubbed his neck, and nodded to indicate the tiny sofa. “Wow. I had no idea Nazis made love seats.”
Flynn laughed before she could stop herself, then tried to tighten up her expression when he looked up.
“Can I... uh... make you some coffee?”
“ Yeah,” he said, smiling. “That’d be nice.”
His smile looked better this morning than it had yesterday. So did he, even with the rough shadow that was claiming his jawline, and the fact that he was rumpled from head to foot and his hair was shooting out in a thousand different directions. He was ... cute.
Cute. Good God. She hadn’t thought of a guy as cute since the ninth grade.
She smiled. “I’ll just go make some coffee, then.”
Tucker nodded, but then waved his hand in the air to stop her. “Actually, forget it. Esther didn’t have a coffeemaker.”
Flynn felt a tinge of horror strike her heart. “She didn’t? Oh, how sad.”
“ Well, it’s not the last ten min utes of Old Yeller, but sure.”
Flynn let out a little laugh, which was followed by a toe-scuffing silence. She wasn ’t sure how to deal with Jake Tucker. They were clearly from different worlds. He was her employee, technically, but he was also the closest thing to a friend that she had so far in Scheintown. Still, seeing him this early in the morning was strangely intimate, especially considering she’d known him for less than twenty-four hours.
So many reasons to feel awkward, she thought. How to choose just one?
“ Well,” she said, “I guess they’ll have coffee at the inn, then? Maybe we could go there?”
He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. “Well—”
“ I mean,” she said quickly, holding her hands up to stop him before he could misread her and think she was asking him out, “unless you want to go home and get some real sleep. Which, of course, you do because you’re a bartender and this has to be crazy early for you.”
“ Actually,” he said, the edges of his lips
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