Real Men Knit(25)

He turned to her and nodded, a half smile making his already beautiful face just that much more so. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it. I get exactly what you are saying. All I was trying to let you know was that Erika isn’t anything serious. My mind is where I said it was yesterday: on doing what I have to do to keep this shop open and afloat. You won’t see Erika, or anyone else for that matter, again.”

Kerry felt her brows tighten. “And once again, Erika or any other women you get on with are none of my business and it’s not like I care. Are we clear?”

There was a knock immediately followed by the door chime. In that moment Kerry didn’t think she could welcome an interruption more. Though the air had been turned on, she was starting to break out in a sweat with this conversation. Thank goodness for Tracy and the UPS delivery, she thought. But just that fast her mind went awash with grief. Tracy? The delivery? Oh hell. There hadn’t been any deliveries since Mama Joy passed, though Tracy was kind enough to stop by the day after and give condolences as soon as he’d heard the news from the other shopkeepers in the neighborhood.

He was a nice guy, quick and efficient, and always had a kind word, but Kerry could barely find her voice this morning thinking of what must be in the package he was holding. It was most likely the long-overdue yarns Mama Joy had been waiting for from the weavers in Oregon. She’d so been looking forward to it and now here it was and she wasn’t here to open it. Dammit. “Hey, Tracy,” Kerry finally said, giving the big guy with the soft brown eyes a weak smile.

“Morning, Kerry. Once again, I’m so sorry for your loss. Ms. Strong will truly be missed.” He cleared his throat and looked at her earnestly. “You both will.” Jesse shifted, drawing Tracy’s attention his way. “I mean you all will. The neighborhood won’t be the same without this shop here.”

Jesse frowned. “The shop is here and will be here.”

Tracy gave him a look for a few seconds, then nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. Well then, I have a delivery for you all.” He turned back Kerry’s way. “You are still taking deliveries for her, right?” Kerry felt her brows furrow. Tracy was friendly, but this was starting to feel like friendly with three ellipses hanging out on the back end. He was sweet, but not that sweet.

“Yeah, you can give that to me,” Jesse suddenly blurted out from over her shoulder. “I can take it. I’ll be accepting on behalf of my mother.”

Tracy looked over Kerry’s shoulder, and his eyes narrowed into a “What’s up with him?” look. But Kerry quickly took the package from his hands and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll sign for it,” she said quickly, scrolling the electronic pen across the little keypad. “This is one of Ms. Joy’s sons, Jesse. He, along with his brothers, will be running the business.”

Tracy’s eyes narrowed further, showing signs of skepticism. But he nodded his head. Then, out of respect, he immediately said to Jesse, “I’m sorry for your loss. Like I said, your mother will be missed.”

Jesse’s eyes were sharp, and his voice was clipped. “That she will be.” He took the box from Kerry’s hands. “Thanks. We won’t hold you up any longer. I’m sure you have a schedule to keep.”

Kerry frowned. Damn, rude much? It wasn’t like Jesse at all, and Tracy was just being nice. But she kept that to herself and smiled Tracy’s way. “Thanks, Tracy. You have a good day. We’ll be seeing you.”

At the sound of the door closing again, she turned to Jesse. “What was that all about?”

Jesse looked up from where he was opening the box, softly fingering the beautiful gradated yarn. “What? I was just letting him know that we’d be open and that I would be here when he came with deliveries.”

Kerry frowned, walking over to inspect the delivery. They each reached for a skein of the pretty blush-colored wool blend at the same time, their fingers brushing across one another; crap if a current didn’t go from Kerry’s two pinky fingers right down to her toes. She pulled back and looked at Jesse. His expression was cool and unaffected as he fingered the yarn, inspecting it carefully, twisting it under the harsh beams of morning sunlight streaming through the front window. “Sure you were,” she said. “Sure you were.”



* * *





After refreshing her coffee, Kerry came back out to the front of the shop and caught sight of the back of Jesse as he stood behind the large oak counter, leaning on Mama Joy’s stool. He was looking out onto the street beyond the store’s paned glass. She had to admit he looked somehow right, but at the same time out of place, in the spot Mama Joy frequented. Kerry looked closer, catching the hint of worry in his eyes and the tight set of his lips. Did he feel the same displacement that she was seeing?

She cleared her throat. “So what are you thinking, boss?” Kerry frowned. The “boss” moniker definitely didn’t fit Jesse.

He shook his head. “Don’t call me ‘boss,’ Kerry.” Jesse looked her up and down in a way that probably should have been more distasteful than seductive, so she pushed it to a back corner of her mind, chalking it up to her imagination. “It’s . . . weird,” he finally said. “It’s easier to think of us more like coworkers. I’m not your boss. Besides, you’re helping me out here. Now, what I’m thinking—well, hoping—is that it won’t take us too much time to reopen. The faster the better. The quicker we get some revenue flowing back in here, the better for me with keeping my brothers quiet.”