The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(46)

For the first time in a long time, our finances were in the black. I still wasn’t paying myself a salary but I was saving the equivalent funds for the mural.

“Hey, Hannah?”

“Mm?”

Liya tilted her head. “How come you never post photos of yourself on the store’s social media?”

I hesitated. “Um. I don’t know. I’m not very photogenic.”

She set a box on the counter and sliced it open. “Well, I think you are, and you should post pictures of yourself as well. You’re the heart of this place.”

I didn’t know what to do with that information. I wasn’t the heart of this place, my mom was. It was her store.

“When are you meeting with Naya?” Liya asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“Next week. Tuesday night.” I straightened up. “You should come with me. You’re part of this store too.”

She gave me an apologetic expression. “My sister’s in town next week so I’m going to show her around. We’re going to a comedy show that night. Show me what Naya comes up with, though.”

“Of course.” Excitement rolled through me and I gave a little squeal of delight and clapped my hands. “Liya. It’s going to look so good.” I beamed at her. “I can’t wait to take a picture of you under the new mural.”

She beamed back at me and pulled a handful of books out of the box. Her eyes widened at the covers and she laughed. “More hockey player romances?”

I shrugged. “People love them.”

Liya studied the shirtless man on the cover. “I can see the appeal.”

I snorted. “Pervert.”

“You’re a pervert, too.” Her shoulder shook with laughter.

“We’re both perverts,” I agreed before gesturing around at the store. “Two perverts working in a store with perverted books. My dream come true.”

She laughed again and headed over to the Sports Romance section to shelve the books. I thought about the mural again as my gaze swept around the shop.

In three weeks, we’d have a beautiful new mural outside the store, and the inside would still look like this. Dusty faded wallpaper. Shelves held together with duct tape. Frayed carpet at the door to the stockroom. Peeling sign out front, barely legible.

When coming up with ideas for social media content, Liya and I had been getting more and more creative. I was hesitant to show our store in the images so we either did close ups of the books, ourselves, or an image of us near the window. I tried to get as little of the store in the shot as possible.

A sharp, expanding feeling flickered in my chest. I didn’t want to be ashamed of the store anymore.

A cascade of soft thumps came from the book stacks.

“Shifter romance just gave up on life,” Liya called over before emerging from the shelves with a handful of books in her arms. She dumped them on the desk. “Wyatt can fix that one next.”

“What?” My eyebrows shot up.

She nodded. “Him and Holden were in yesterday. They fixed Mafia Romance.”

I wandered over to the mafia romance shelf and peered under the plank of wood. Shiny brackets now held the shelf up. “Huh.”

“Somebody likes you,” Liya sang as she passed.

The kiss, the wetsuit, and now the shelf.

A delicious warmth spread through my chest and I grinned. “No, he doesn’t.”

She cocked her head. “Oh? He goes around to local businesses fixing shelves with his hot brother?”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t know what to say. Wyatt fixing the shelf had made my entire day. My shoulders lifted in a shrug and I returned to the desk to clear the remaining books.

The stupid wallpaper caught my eye again. Liya cut the bottom of the box to flatten it and the knife caught the light from the window.

There it was again, the same boldness that made my buy the swimsuit. Same as when I kissed Wyatt. It filled my chest and raced through my blood. My chest rose and fell with a deep breath.

“Can I borrow that for a second?” I held my hand out for the knife and Liya handed it over. I turned to the wallpaper panel behind the desk, reached up, and dragged a long slice through it.

Liya stared in delighted shock. “Oh, she really did that,” she whispered, nodding with wide eyes.

I stared at the giant cut. There. Now we had to change it. A maniacal giggle bubbled out of me.

I handed the knife back to Liya. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Spice Girls played in the background as we stared at the damage. There was no turning back now. My dad would hate it, but he wasn’t here and I had a business to run.

“After lunch, let’s look at wallpaper samples online.” My voice sounded stronger than I felt.

Liya took her lunch and in between customers, I reviewed more old surfing footage of Wyatt’s in case I could pull anything for his social media.

On my laptop screen, Wyatt carved and glided over the water, harnessing it like he was a god. He made it look so easy, like walking or breathing.

In the footage from last year, Wyatt paddled hard to catch a big wave. He hopped up and turned, carving into the surf—

And then he kicked his back foot out and fell off the board.

In the video, the crowd let out a collective groan of disappointment.

My eyes narrowed and I replayed the last ten seconds. Wyatt paddling hard, Wyatt snapping up, Wyatt carving into the surf, and then that weird kick.