“It is great, isn’t it?” I grin as I say this.
I’ve wanted my own antiques store for as long as I can remember. I collected bits and kept them in the garage when I was married to Thomas, but he never really liked my hobby. Then again, he never really indulged anything I wanted.
She stops spinning and stares right at me, her eyes glistening. “I can’t believe you’re really doing this, girl. I’m so proud of you.”
I can’t help but smile. The past twelve months has been difficult, so her saying that means a lot to me. Especially since I look up to Simone as a sister, rather than the cousin she is.
She may be three years older than me, but we both tapped in heavily to the Walker side of the family. In fact, we look so alike people sometimes mistake us for siblings. She’s three inches taller than my five foot three, but like me, she has dark tightly curled hair and deep brown eyes. Her nose slopes the same way and we have a similar jawline. She’s also the closest in age of all my cousins, which means we hung out a lot as kids.
“I’m really doing it.” I stand, dusting off my jeans with my hands. This place needs a good cleaning, but nothing can dampen my good mood—especially not a little grime.
Simone comes to me and wraps her arm around my shoulders. “You’re really doing it, Nee. Did I mention how proud I am of you?”
I snort. “Once or twice.”
Glancing around the small shop floor, I can’t help but feel my own pride swell. This is all mine. My own little empire.
Over the years I’ve collected furniture, decorations, even old letters. Since my separation from Thomas, they’ve been sitting in a storage unit in town, but I wanted to display these items, let others find the same joy I got from buying them. I kept the pieces I liked and the rest of it will form my first stock in the store.
“Hey, Nia, who is the tall, dark, Mr. Handsome guy next door?”
I move over to the window where she’s peering out and see what has her gawking. He is tall, like crazy tall, and has a hint of dark scruff covering his jaw. Even from here, I can tell he’s muscled beneath his coveralls.
“I don’t know. I haven’t met all my neighbors yet.”
I have a florist on one side of me and a garage on the opposite side of the road, which gives us a direct view into the workshop (and of the man she’s staring at). He’s clearly a mechanic from his garb, but I have no idea who he is. Simone is right, though, he is very handsome.
She nudges me in the ribs. “Go and introduce yourself.”
I splutter out a “No!”
“Girl, if you don’t get out there and say hello to that sexy as sin specimen, then I will.”
She will, too. Simone has never lacked confidence. I, on the other hand, am far more reserved. I guess that’s one thing we don’t have in common. Either way, I’m not parading my ass out there to drool all over the hot guy.
“I’m off men, remember?” I tell her, turning away from the window and continuing to stack the shelf I was working on.
Simone leans her hip against the register counter and folds her arms over her chest.
“Thomas is a jackass, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the male population is. Nee, you need to get back on the horse, meet someone new who will show you a damned good time.”
I cock my brow at her. “How long have you been practicing that sermon?”
“Ever since you got rid of that waste of space.”
“I’m not even divorced yet.”
Although I’ve tried. Thomas is putting up a fight and making things difficult. He doesn’t want it; I do. I have my lawyers working on getting things finalized.
She sighs. “Honey, I want you happy and settled—far from that jerk.”
“I am happy,” I assure her. “I don’t need a guy to make me complete, Sim. I’m perfectly content as I am, but I adore you for caring.”
“I’ll always care about you. You’re family.”
I glance back at the window and see Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome is crouched on his haunches, looking at the side of a car. It pulls his coveralls tight over his very firm and pert ass.
Oh, Lord.
I feel bad for staring, but I can’t stop myself. I’m only human and he’s very attractive.
Simone clearly can’t either, because she waves her hands in the air and says, “Okay, I can’t handle any more of this. Girl, if you do nothing else today, you make sure you talk to him, got it?”
I roll my eyes, but mutter, “Got it. Now, get out of here, so I can try to do some business.”
“I’m going, I’m going, but I’ll call in sick if you need me here. It’s not like the office will miss me for a day.”
“You’re not calling in sick. Go to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I shake my head as she grabs her purse and walks out into the Louisiana heat. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m just going to walk up to that guy and start a conversation.
I wash the next shelf and dry the wood before I stack some little decorations on there, complete with price tags dangling from them. I can’t help the little tingle of excitement it gives me, seeing all my things around and ready for selling. I would never have achieved this if I was still with Thomas. He would never have let me leave my full-time job. It’s one of many reasons we’re no longer together. He was a controlling ass.
I head out to my truck. Most of the big-ticket items are already in the store—Simone’s husband and friends helped move things yesterday—but there’s a few chairs strapped in the back of the pickup and a small trunk that I thought I could move easily on my own. I realize I’m wrong the moment I unhook it and try to drag it to the edge of the truck bed. It’s surprisingly heavy for such a small item.
I’m puffing and panting within a couple of seconds, and I’m worried about scratching the underside.
“Do you need a hand?” a deeply masculine voice asks from the side of me.
I startle and twist to see the gorgeous man from the garage standing at the open gatefold of the truck.
“Oh, uh…” Damn it, Nia, speak. “I’m okay.”
You’re okay? I’m so not okay.
His brow cocks. “Really? I don’t mean to interfere, but you seem like you’re struggling a little and I can’t stand by and watch someone struggle.”
Embarrassment floods me.
“Yeah, I guess I am struggling.”
“Can I help?”
“Sure.”
He leaps into the truck with just one hand holding the edge of the bed. It’s a move that is so sexy, it should be illegal. He signals to another guy in the garage, who puts down the wrench he’s holding and jogs across the street.
“Slide, give me a hand with this, will you?”
The guy ‘Slide’ also does that sexy leap into the truck and helps him to lift the trunk to the edge of the bed. I step back out of the way as they climb down and, together, carefully haul the piece of furniture off the truck bed.
“Where do you want it?” hot guy asks.
“Inside. I’ll show you.”
I cringe. Of course you want it inside. Why does this man have me tied up in knots? A man whose name I don’t even know. I blame Simone, although she’ll be happy I spoke to him—even if he technically was the one who spoke to me.