A Guide to Being Just Friends(9)

She didn’t want to be distracted right now. She wasn’t bitter about love, no matter how poorly it had turned out the last time around, but she and her store came first.

“Hey, Siri,” she called, going with her gut.

“What can I help you with?”

“Text Piper.”

“Would you like me to text Piper?”

“Yes.”

“What would you like to say to Piper?”

“We need a girls’ night. I’m thinking rom-com, wine, and pretzel sticks. What time do the kids go to bed?”

“Your message to Piper says, ‘We need a girls’ night. I’m thinking rom-com, wine, and pencil dicks. What time do the kids go to bed?’”

The knife sliced the edge of her thumb, distracting her from anything else. “Shit.” She grabbed a napkin.

“Would you like to send this message to Piper?”

“Yes.” She groaned the word. She hated blood.

“Your message is sent.”

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a bandage from the first aid box by the sink. “Now can you stop blood?”

“Here are some articles I found on the internet on how to stop blood.”

A low, irritated growl left her throat. Okay, Siri. Thanks for nothing. The cut was tinier than an eyelash. She was such a wimp. After she wrapped it, she cleaned the prep area, mad at herself but letting Taylor Swift’s brand of calm work its magic.

When her phone rang, she was still cleaning so she swiped accept, moved down the counter.

“Hey. You okay?” Piper’s voice came through the Bluetooth speaker loudly.

The bell over the door jingled. Hailey locked eyes with Wes.

“Hailey,” Piper called.

“I’m fine. I have to call you back.”

“Okay. But I don’t know where to buy pencil dicks. So, you get those and I’ll get the wine.”

Like she’d fallen into a vat of quicksand mixed with honey, everything slowed. Piper’s laughter sounded like it was coming from a tunnel far, far away. Wes’s brows nearly disappeared into the hair that fell over his forehead. A snort of laughter broke through her humiliation. What the hell was wrong with her cousin? She raced to the phone, picked it up, fumbled it, turned off the speaker at the same time she put the phone to her ear and turned her back on Wes.

“Are you day drinking?” she whispered into the phone.

“I’m not the one sending dirty texts,” Piper said, still laughing.

Hailey pulled her phone away from her ear, looked at the text to see what the hell was so dirty about pretzel sticks. Holy shit. She put the phone back to her ear. “I have to go.”

“Okay. See you later.”

She hung up, gave herself the time to take a few deep, cleansing breaths. When she turned around, shoving her phone in her back pocket, Wes was watching her carefully.

Her heart was beating in her ears. The only other sound she heard was her own attempt to swallow the dryness in her throat.

“What…” she started, and the word disappeared. Hailey cleared her throat, grabbed her water bottle, took a long drink, very aware of Wes’s gaze. She set it down and tried again. “What can I get for you?”

His smile was so slight that it could have been a twitch. It was his eyes though that said everything for him. They were blue the color of the California ocean. The deep blue sort that pulled you in and made you want to swim a little deeper. Until a wave comes up out of nowhere and drowns you.

As though he needed time, he strolled along the display counter, his gaze moving over the fresh ingredients below the plexiglass divider. When he stopped, he was closer, near to where she’d been sitting.

It was then he pinned his eyes on hers. “I don’t suppose you have an apology salad? Though, then I guess I’d be making it for you.” He sighed. “I should have brought you cake from Tara’s. It’s delicious.”

Her brows scrunched, her embarrassment over the phone call slowly fading.

Wes shook his head. “I’m rambling. I’m not very good at this.”

“Apologizing?”

She watched his Adam’s apple move up and down. “To being out of line. Being a complete jackass. I try not to be.”

She leaned against the counter, overwhelmingly grateful they were focusing on his failings and not on pencil dicks. “There’s no such thing as an apology salad but you could just say the words.”

He nodded, like she’d scolded him even though she’d kept her tone even. “I am sorry. Very sorry, Hailey. And incredibly embarrassed.”

Hailey hadn’t expected him to be so forthright. So genuine. “Thank you.”

Shifting in his spot, he continued to stare at her. She was curious to see if he’d add anything. When he didn’t, she couldn’t stand the quiet.

“I take it your date didn’t go well?”

The twitch of a smile turned into a real one and the impact on her system was concerning. He moved to the stool she’d sat on earlier and eased into it, glancing down at her list, then up at her. No suit today but his jeans and light, long-sleeved shirt looked every bit as good.

He seemed to be weighing his words carefully. “It didn’t go at all. She never showed.”

Hailey grabbed the pen, paper, and her calendar from where they lay in front of him, storing them behind the counter.