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“Oh! Wing sauce.”
Jasper tilted his head toward them, light brown hair falling over his black-framed glasses that covered dark gray eyes. “Sorry your date sucked.”
“Thanks, Jasp. At least I get to come home to this.” She motioned to her two roommates, then the TV. “What are we watching?”
“Our Planet.” Milo sighed.
“Jasper’s choice tonight, huh?”
“This is really interesting,” Jasper said, but as a middle school biology teacher, Jasper’s idea of interesting and Harper’s were two totally different things. But it was his night to choose, so Harper settled in, hoping tomorrow would be a better day.
And if not, at least it would be her night to choose.
Chapter 2
The air was thick with salt and the stench of rotting decay from the bay’s floor, and it was glorious. Milo missed walking outside in nothing more than a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and his favorite pair of flip-flops. His favorite season was quickly approaching, and he couldn’t wait for burgers on the grill with all his friends hanging out around the bonfire on his front lawn.
Every day was a blessing, but there was something about the days of summer that spoke to his soul. He closed his eyes, absorbing the moment. A hard bump to the back threw him off balance, and he lost his footing. His eyes popped open, and he caught himself before falling off the front porch.
“What the—”
“Sorry.” Harper moved past him in a whirl of paint brushes and 16x12 canvases. A bottle of paint tucked under her chin slipped, and Milo’s hand shot out, catching it before it fell.
“What do you have against using a bag?”
She let out a breath, her caramel brown hair blowing up before falling back in her face. “Nothing, but the bag has something against me. The damn strap broke, and we don’t have anything else in this damn house, so here I am balancing a day’s worth of supplies like a circus clown.” A paintbrush escaped her grasp and clattered to the ground. “Son of a bitch!”
Milo picked it up and reached for the rest of the brushes in her hand, and Harper, being the stubborn pain in the ass she was, yanked her hand away.
“I got it.”
“No, you don’t.” He didn’t wait for her to hand them over—he didn’t have all day—so he snatched them from her grasp.
Her hazel eyes flipped up to the sky. “I had them.”
“And I’m Santa Claus.”
Her gaze drifted over his hair. “I mean I have seen a few gray hairs popping through.”
His eyes widened and mouth dropped open. “You know my fear of prematurely graying.”
Her lips curved up in pure smugness. “I know.Santa.”
“You’re lucky you’re heading to the senior center, or I’d take your canvases across the street and toss them in the bay.”
Harper barked out a laugh. “You would never.”
No, he wouldn’t. He knew how hard Harper worked to keep her business afloat and the overhead costs she laid out ahead of time. He’d offered her money—he had a ton thanks to the lawsuit—but she was too proud to accept any capital even in the form of a loan.
Instead, he watched her work her ass off, save her change, and go without, so she could give her clients the best experience for their money.
“What time’s your class?” he asked as he walked toward her car.
“Eleven, but I want to get there early to set up. I have a full house today, and I want to make sure everybody gets supplies.”
He looked down at the paintbrushes in his hand, knowing it wasn’t enough for a full roster. “Is this everything then?” If she needed more, he’d make a run to the store and get her what she needed before he had to pick up Ms. Wheeler.
“I kept a bunch of stuff there when I did my last class. Colleen has it all hidden away under lock and key.”
