Move the Sun (Signal Bend #1)(69)

She agreed, and Isaac got up and helped her to her feet. He was still hard as granite, and she cast a sardonic look at his crotch. He chuckled. “What can I say? You’re hot even when you’re a hot mess. But I’m a big boy; I’ll survive without getting off.”

She looked exponentially better when she came back from the showers, but she was still moving slowly.

And now Isaac saw that she had a sizable bruise on her upper arm, as if she’d been grabbed hard. Had he done that? He took her arm and gave it a close look—no; his hand was bigger. “Where’d you get this?”

Lilli looked down, evidently confused. “I don’t know. Random drunk bruise, I guess.” She grazed her right hand over the bruise, and Isaac saw that her knuckles were red, too. She’d punched someone. She didn’t seem to notice her hand, so Isaac didn’t say anything more. But he was going to be on the lookout for somebody with a bruised face today. And he had an idea where to start.

For now, though, breakfast.

He gestured toward the picnic table at their site. “Have a seat.” He’d laid the table, and fixed her scrambled eggs and toast with honey. A glass of tomato juice. And four ibuprofen. “Start with the juice and pills, then the toast. Eggs last.”

She looked up at him, amused. “Kinda bossy.”

“Hey, trust me. The juice and bread will help. Work up to the eggs. You’ll feel ready for ‘em by then.”

She smiled and did as he suggested. Isaac made himself a plate and sat next to her, his hand on her thigh.

oOo

The show was extra busy this year, and Isaac and Lilli had little time to talk during the day. She was a great booth babe. She’d learned a lot about his work in the weeks they’d been together, and she spoke enthusiastically about it. She wasn’t much for haggling, so he took over that part. People liked to haggle at these things.

When he took a bathroom break during a lull, he walked by Cin’s booth. She was wearing a pair of big sunglasses, even though the day had gone overcast. She was alone in her booth, so he went in, walked right up to her, and took the glasses off her face. Black eye. Really good shiner, too. Lilli didn’t go in for half measures.

“You stirring up shit, Cin?”

She snatched her sunglasses back and put them on. “Fuck you, Isaac. You two can have each other.

Little b—.” She stopped, thought better of her choice, and continued, “girl has no sense of humor.”

That filled in the blanks enough for Isaac. Cin had said something bitchy—probably grabbing Lilli’s arm to get her attention—and Lilli had . . . expressed her displeasure at what Cin said, or at Cin putting hands on her. He could see it clearly. He put his elbows on her little display counter and leaned in close. “I know it came as a shock to you, and I’m sorry for that. But, Lucinda, hear me when I say that you need to settle your shit down, and right now. We had good times, but you had no claim. You know that.”

She pouted. “If I’d thought you were claimable, I would have.”

“I wasn’t, Cin. That’s what I’m sayin’. Let’s leave it on good terms. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Too late, *.” She walked to the other end of the counter, and Isaac left.

oOo

The first day of the show really went well. The weather was good—hovering between sunny and overcast, but no threat of rain, so it was cool for midsummer—and the crowds were thick. Isaac sold several expensive art pieces, got some promising queries about furniture, and talked to a guy who seemed pretty serious about commissioning a piece. Time would tell if that panned out, but he couldn’t help but be a little excited at the possibility.

The usual craftsy stuff that always sold well at these shows was flying out of the booth. Isaac was beginning to get a bit concerned that he’d have sufficient stock for the second day. Not a bad problem to have, though. When a small gaggle of elderly women left the booth carrying carved flowers and birds and one fancy little wren house he’d made on a whim, he turned to see Lilli smiling at him as if she’d caught him doing something cute.

“What?”

She walked up to him and pushed her hands under his black t-shirt until she grazed his nipples, heedless of the people browsing the booth. “My big, macho biker is a totally sweet flirt with the little old ladies. Quite the Lothario—had them all giggling. Shameless, really.”

He grinned. Also ignoring the browsers, he put his hands around her ribs, his thumbs just skimming the undersides of her breasts. She took in a sharp breath, and her eyes fluttered shut for a second. “What can I say?” he whispered, “I appreciate a woman who can appreciate my charms.”

“Then you must appreciate the f*ck out of me.”

“Oh, I do, Sport. Literally.” He kissed the corner of her mouth and let her go.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


When the first day of the show wrapped up, Lilli helped Isaac fill in the rest of his stock and then close up his booth. It had floored her at first that he didn’t pack everything away and lock it back up at night, but he explained that the grounds were guarded, and the tents were too difficult for anyone to get into before one of the guards came around. So they closed up the sides and walked back to the camper.

She’d thoroughly enjoyed watching Isaac work this fair, or show, or whatever it was. She’d loved helping him do it, too. She loved his work, and she loved to hear and see him talk about it. He was so much more than a biker or an outlaw. She felt proud and protective of him, which turned out to get in his way a little. Within a couple of hours, he’d stepped in and suggested that he complete the sales. She wanted to punch people who tried to dicker his pricing down. Fuck them for trying to cheap out on the fruits of his talent and skill.