Page 70 of Big Dill

“Brody,” I whine and smack a cushion.

“You can pay me back.”

My heart squeezes tight at his thoughtfulness. “Why would you do this?”

“I just really saw the need for fish couture,” he says and I whack him. Catching me by surprise, he grabs my hand, brings it to his mouth and kisses it. “You can pay me back,” he says.

“How can I accept this?”

“The sewing machine is about me, this social, not you.” I eye him and he continues, giving me a look full of disgust. “Did you see the outfits your clients were wearing?” He mock shivers. “Hideous plaid patterns, and that one guy, wearing MC Hammer pants. Uh, hello. The 1990’s called and want their pants back. Just no.” That makes me laugh. “I can’t have people coming to this social looking like they just…ugh, I don’t know…come from the mainland. This is Churchill Falls. We have standards to upkeep, fashion trends to set.”

I swallow, push to my feet and walk up to my new sewing machine. A Brothers professional. “How did you even know what kind to get?

“Did a bit of research. Went down a rabbit hole. It’s a good one?”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“I know you have a lot on your plate, with yoga, and setting up childcare, but do you think you could design court clothes for pickleball?” I stare at him and his head rears back. “What?”

“Are you in my head?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s one of the first things I thought about when I saw this place. How fun would it be to have a social with its own, one of a kind, designs.” I tap my head.

Brody taps his head. “Great minds think alike.”

“I can do you a logo that’s distinct to Churchill Falls. Maybe like a little caribou on it, or even the falls.”

He nods in agreement. “If the line is a success, and I know it will be, other pickleball socials might want it. Like Banff, for example. They could have little mountains on it.”

I squeal. I haven’t been this excited about designing in a while. “I think it could work.”

“You better get on it.”

I poke his chest. “The first thing I want is to design new shorts for you and Jaxon, for your competitions. They won’t be identical, because that’s ridiculous, but with the logo.”

He steps back, puts his hands on his hips and strikes a ridiculous pose that makes me laugh. “I could be your model.”

“I probably don’t need that, but I do need your measurements.”

His eyes darken and he comes close. I have no idea why, but suddenly the room is filled with sexual tension. He glances over his shoulder to make sure we’re alone. “You didn’t measure me up last night?”

My palm itches, remembering the way he moved my hand along the long, thick length of him. “Uh, yeah. I sort of did.”

“Jami.”

“Yeah?”

“Normal isn’t going to work, is it?”

16

Brody

When Jami puts her mind to something, she really puts her mind to something. There’s no half-assing it, no dabbling. She commits with her whole heart, and I couldn’t love that more about her. In fact her focus and determinations remind me of, well…me.

I stand just outside the doorway of the new childcare room she’s spent the last two weeks creating—squeezed in between yoga classes and late nights sketching designs for the new clothing line for the social—and watch her work.