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“Like them? I love them. They’re incredible. I plan to buy one.”
“Oh yeah? It’s a local artist, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble getting your hands on one.”
“That’s what I hear. My aunt has a couple at her house. And I stare at them every night before I go to sleep. I get lost in the colors and brush strokes.” I catch myself rambling and offer him an apologetic smile before sipping my coffee to shut myself up.
“Well, if your aunt already has some, why not ask her for one?”
“No. I want my own. I can’t explain it, but I want to have one that’s just for me.”
He nods with a thoughtful expression. He looks over to the register where Aunt Fran is standing. “You’re Fran’s niece?”
“Yup. Visiting for the summer.”
I notice he has long fingers and a strong hand, which is holding his coffee cup. I begin to feel tingles all over, which is foolish because I’m so over my head even looking at a man like him. Because that’s what he is. A man.
“My name is Serenity Tremblay, or Sugar, as Fran calls me. Or Fran’s niece works too, I guess.”
The corner of his mouth quirks. I stare at him, waiting for his name, but he doesn’t offer it. “Are you going to offer your name, sir?” Why did I ask it like that? I’ve been reading too many historical romance novels. I wish I knew how to be flirty, but this is the best I’ve got.
“Sir?” He arches a single brow, and this time, the smile spreads across his face. I was mistaken. I completely underestimated how handsome he actually is. This man is gorgeous in a rugged way.
“Well, do you have a name?”
Before he can respond, Aunt Fran comes swooping in. With a bag of treats in one hand and now my arm in the other, she says, “Nope. He doesn’t.” Then she whispers in my ear, “He’s too old for you.”
I should be embarrassed, but I can’t help but smile as his low chuckle follows us out the door. Right before the door closes, I hear his low voice say, “See ya around, Sugar.”
