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Jared glances around my store and I take the moment to study him in profile. God, he’s attractive. I might be off men, but I’m not blind. He has this rugged, sexy thing going for him that I have to admit, I like.
“How’d you get into antiques?”
I tear my eyes from staring at him just as he brings his gaze to me. I shrug, picking up an ornament and giving it my full attention. “I was always interested in old stuff. I didn’t expect to have my own store at twenty-eight, though.”
“I guess life has a way of dealing out the unexpected.”
The way he says this makes me think we’re no longer talking about me—or anything positive. He looks suddenly distant and sad.
“It does,” I murmur, not sure what else to say.
“We should probably get back,” Slider says, breaking through the growing cloud of tension—a tension I don’t really understand.
“Do you need help with anything else?” he asks.
I shake my head. “The rest are light things. I can manage. Thank you both.”
“Anytime, Nia.”
I’m not sure why, but hearing my name on Jared’s lips has my stomach fluttering.
You can look, but no touching, Nee.
I repeat this over and over in my head as I watch Jared’s back retreat across the street, and I wonder if I can keep that promise.
