going to be in her eighties before she figured out what she wanted out of life.
"Are you still drawing?" he mom asked.
This again. She sighed. She thought of the sketchpad she had out on the counter. Sometimes
when it got slow, she worked on designs. "A little bit."
"You're a talented artist, sweetheart. Maybe you should go back to art school. I hear
there are excellent schools in San Francisco."
"And be poor and without means all my life?" She gripped the phone between her ear
and shoulder and lifted a box away to get to the one behind it. "No thanks."
"You're so talented. It's just a shame to waste it."
"You're my mom. You're supposed to think I'm talented." A-ha—found it. She withdrew a stack of burgundy tissue. "Remember how Lottie used to post Grif's
drawings on the refrigerator?"
Mom laughed. "I felt so bad for the poor boy. His drawings were awful."
"He couldn't even draw h angman." Nicole grinned, remembering how much he'd hated art. But he was a genius
with music and had always known what he wanted.
"I think it's fantastic that Grif is visiting you," her mom said. "You two were so
close at one time, it'll be good for you to get to know each other again. I always
thought you two were meant for each other."
Rachel sighed as she kicked a box out of her way. "It's not like that, Mom."
"What is it like, Nicole?"
She had no idea. That kiss, the handholding, the flutter of anticipation in her belly
whenever he walked in the room... It defied reason.
The front door bell chimed, proverbially saving her. "Mom, I have a customer. I have
to go."
"Love you, sweetheart. Your dad sends his love, too. Give Grif a kiss from me."
Her lips weren't going anywhere near Griffin Chase, but she just murmured in assent
and disconnected the call. Taking the stack of tissue paper, she went back out to
the front.
Bull, Ethan's friend, stood at the counter, looking like his namesake in a china shop.
He was big, but his size was magnified when he was surrounded by such femininity. "This is a surprise," she said as she carried the tissue
behind the counter.
"Hey, girl." Bull flipped a page of her sketchpad . "Did you draw these?"
B lus hing, s he quickly confiscated it, closing it and stowing it under the register. "They're
nothing really."
"They don't look like nothing, but, hey, what do I know?" He shrugged and handed her
a thermal to-go cup. "I brought you a smoothie."
"That's so"—she tried to find a word as she accepted the cup—"nice. Thank you."
He laughed, deep from his belly. "At the gym, I'm kind of known for my smoothies.
Try it. You'll like it."
Uncapping it, she took a tentative sip. She blinked in surprise. "This is good."
"Told ya." Grinning, he leaned on the counter and looked around. "Love the digs. If
I knew you worked here, I'd have come sooner."
"You didn't know me sooner. We only met at the wedding." She tipped her head and frowned
at him. "How did you know I worked here?"
"Valentine told me." He shook his head. "She had some crazy idea that you and I would
be good together."
Nicole shook her head. Thank goodness Valentine had decided to stop matchmaking. She
really had no skill for it. "Valentine means well."
Bull pointed a finger at her. "I meant it when I said you're not my type. You're too
young and too scrawny."
"Scrawny?" She couldn't help grinning.
"I like my women with a little meat on them. I like something to hold on to." He looked
around. "I'm not dating anyone right now, but maybe when I am , I can come back and buy her things. That green bra over there rocks."
She looked at where he pointed, to the sassy emerald satin demi and garter. "That's
really nice on."
"Which brings me to the reason I came by. Griffin Chase."
Nicole groaned. "Not you, too."
He held his hands up. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Did I look that disgruntled to see him?"
"No, you looked wary but hopeful, which is why I wanted to check on you." Bull
"Are you still drawing?" he mom asked.
This again. She sighed. She thought of the sketchpad she had out on the counter. Sometimes
when it got slow, she worked on designs. "A little bit."
"You're a talented artist, sweetheart. Maybe you should go back to art school. I hear
there are excellent schools in San Francisco."
"And be poor and without means all my life?" She gripped the phone between her ear
and shoulder and lifted a box away to get to the one behind it. "No thanks."
"You're so talented. It's just a shame to waste it."
"You're my mom. You're supposed to think I'm talented." A-ha—found it. She withdrew a stack of burgundy tissue. "Remember how Lottie used to post Grif's
drawings on the refrigerator?"
Mom laughed. "I felt so bad for the poor boy. His drawings were awful."
"He couldn't even draw h angman." Nicole grinned, remembering how much he'd hated art. But he was a genius
with music and had always known what he wanted.
"I think it's fantastic that Grif is visiting you," her mom said. "You two were so
close at one time, it'll be good for you to get to know each other again. I always
thought you two were meant for each other."
Rachel sighed as she kicked a box out of her way. "It's not like that, Mom."
"What is it like, Nicole?"
She had no idea. That kiss, the handholding, the flutter of anticipation in her belly
whenever he walked in the room... It defied reason.
The front door bell chimed, proverbially saving her. "Mom, I have a customer. I have
to go."
"Love you, sweetheart. Your dad sends his love, too. Give Grif a kiss from me."
Her lips weren't going anywhere near Griffin Chase, but she just murmured in assent
and disconnected the call. Taking the stack of tissue paper, she went back out to
the front.
Bull, Ethan's friend, stood at the counter, looking like his namesake in a china shop.
He was big, but his size was magnified when he was surrounded by such femininity. "This is a surprise," she said as she carried the tissue
behind the counter.
"Hey, girl." Bull flipped a page of her sketchpad . "Did you draw these?"
B lus hing, s he quickly confiscated it, closing it and stowing it under the register. "They're
nothing really."
"They don't look like nothing, but, hey, what do I know?" He shrugged and handed her
a thermal to-go cup. "I brought you a smoothie."
"That's so"—she tried to find a word as she accepted the cup—"nice. Thank you."
He laughed, deep from his belly. "At the gym, I'm kind of known for my smoothies.
Try it. You'll like it."
Uncapping it, she took a tentative sip. She blinked in surprise. "This is good."
"Told ya." Grinning, he leaned on the counter and looked around. "Love the digs. If
I knew you worked here, I'd have come sooner."
"You didn't know me sooner. We only met at the wedding." She tipped her head and frowned
at him. "How did you know I worked here?"
"Valentine told me." He shook his head. "She had some crazy idea that you and I would
be good together."
Nicole shook her head. Thank goodness Valentine had decided to stop matchmaking. She
really had no skill for it. "Valentine means well."
Bull pointed a finger at her. "I meant it when I said you're not my type. You're too
young and too scrawny."
"Scrawny?" She couldn't help grinning.
"I like my women with a little meat on them. I like something to hold on to." He looked
around. "I'm not dating anyone right now, but maybe when I am , I can come back and buy her things. That green bra over there rocks."
She looked at where he pointed, to the sassy emerald satin demi and garter. "That's
really nice on."
"Which brings me to the reason I came by. Griffin Chase."
Nicole groaned. "Not you, too."
He held his hands up. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Did I look that disgruntled to see him?"
"No, you looked wary but hopeful, which is why I wanted to check on you." Bull
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