Mrs. Fitzgerald pushed aside the curtain, stepping out of the fitting room she was in. I about tripped over my own two feet when she did, my eyes wide as I covered my mouth with a hand to hide the shock on my face.
“Oh, dear lord,” Leighton muttered, coming up beside me. “You definitely have it worse than me. I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to un-see this.”
That made two of us. I’d be glad when I was back to making trips to Milan and New York instead of working in Mulletsville. Small-town living just wasn’t for me.
“Hannah, dear, I think they labeled this shirt all wrong. I swear the tag says extra-large, but it’s barely covering the old girls.” She waved a hand across her huge chest, as if we could miss what she was referring to.
I dropped my hand from my mouth. Leighton silently chuckled beside me as Mrs. Fitzgerald stood there with her pale, drooping skin hanging out in what had to be the worst case of muffin top I’d ever seen.
“Mrs. Fitzgerald, the size is correct. That is how the shirt is made.”
She looked down incredulously at the piece of material barely concealing her saggy boobs. “Why on earth would I want to pay full price for a shirt that’s half missing?”
I took the last few steps to Mrs. Fitzgerald, spinning her around and gently shoving her back into the dressing room. Heaven forbid anybody else saw her as they passed by the storefront. It’d be all over the front page of the local paper. A new scandal to gossip about. She’d be accused of hooking on Main Street.
“They’re called crop tops. They’re all the rage for the younger generation. Let’s see if we can find you something else. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll bring you back some new options.”
“Thank you, dear.”
I pulled the curtain closed, my shoulders deflating and head shaking as I walked over to a rack of shirts more suitable for her body type.
The front door swung open again, and I lifted to greet the new customer. Wes strutted in, cocky as ever, a big, annoying smile already on his face.
I turned my back to him, blatantly ignoring him.
“What’s up, Hurling Hannah?”
Leighton cocked an eyebrow, looking at me for answers. I ignored her too.
“I’m going to kill you. Dead. In your sleep,” I whisper-yelled as he came up beside me.
“Come on, you aren’t still mad at me about eating the other half of that sandwich?”
“It was my sandwich! I made it for me. And I only made a half, so technically you ate all of it.”
“You can’t stay mad at your bestie forever.”
“You’re right. Good thing you aren’t my bestie.”
“We’re roommates, that automatically makes us besties. Isn’t that right, baby Miller?” Wes hollered, directing his question to Leighton who stood by, sipping her coffee.
She exhaled an annoyed breath. “It’s Bradley now, Wes. I’m no longer baby Miller.”
“Doesn’t matter if you went and got yourself married, you’ll always be baby Miller to me.”
“Do you see what I have to deal with?” I asked her.
Leighton shrugged. “I’ve had to deal with it my whole life.”
“You ladies love me, and you know it.”
“Have you been hitting the bottle for breakfast again?” I asked, selecting a few shirts from the rack for Mrs. Fitzgerald.
He winked. “A man never tells his secrets.”
“No. Just other people’s,” I mumbled. “What are you even doing here?” I asked as I walked to the next rack.
“I’m here to give you the heads up, you need to find another place to stay tonight. Have a visitor that will likely be crashing with me tonight…you know, a woman.”
“Thanks for the clarification. I was curious about what team you batted for. I’d definitely pegged you as being on the other team.”
“Real cute, city.”
I smirked, grabbing one last shirt. “So where do you expect me to stay?”
“Not my problem, sweetheart. Figure you’re resourceful enough to figure that one out.”
“That’s not very BFF of you.”
“So, you admit it? We’re BFFs.”
“Nope.” I turned my back to him, walking toward the dressing rooms.
“You heard her, didn’t you little Miller?”
“All I heard was you being a jerk and kicking Hannah out of the house so you could get laid.”
“Hey, now!” He surrendered with his palms out. “Lower the pitch forks. This was her idea, not mine.”
Handing Mrs. Fitzgerald a few more options, I heard another person enter the boutique. This time, my stomach did a little flip at seeing the man who walked through the door. Small-town living may not be for me, but the particular cowboy walking in sure was.
I wasn’t normally one to like a man dressed so casually. A man dressed sleeker, especially in a fitted suit, had always been what caught my eye in the past. But the way Billy wore a pair of jeans and a tight tee made me rethink everything I ever thought was my type. His eyes zeroed in on me, and I fisted the curtain to hold myself up, the rest of the world momentarily disappearing around us.
When Mrs. Fitzgerald screeched my name again, I wished they all would disappear. I was seconds away from dragging Billy to the stock room to have my way with him. He’d been holding out on me. And as much as I appreciated the sentiment, a woman had needs too. It didn’t help I hadn’t seen him since our date a few days ago, either. Apparently, when it was harvest time, the farmers worked long hours and seven days a week.
“Yes, Mrs. Fitzgerald?”
She flung the curtain open, nearly taking me down as she did, my hand still clinging to it.
“I think I’m gonna have to wait on these items. None of them are fitting me just right today.”
I smiled, not the least bit surprised by her decision. “Completely understand.” I took the discarded clothes from her arms, glancing over my shoulder to where Billy waited by the counter with Leighton and Wes. “We wouldn’t want you to feel anything but beautiful in the clothes you buy and wear.”
I placed my hand on her back giving her a gentle nudge forward, urging her out the front door.
“You have a new shipment coming in later today?”
“Yep. I’ll have it all unpacked and displayed when we open up on Wednesday.”
“All right, dear. I’ll see you then. Enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Fitzgerald. You too.” I gave her a small wave as she left the store.
One down. Two more to go.
I turned back to face the trio lingering and chatting at the cashier counter. I walked around to the opposite side of the counter from them, working efficiently to close things down, hoping they took the subtle hint. When they didn’t, I gave Leighton the look, shifting my eyes from her to Billy. I wanted alone time with my man, and if she didn’t catch that this time, I was going to have to get blunt. Like I said, I had needs. And I was desperate to take advantage of this unexpected visit from Billy.
Unfortunately for me, Wes was the one to catch on to the look before Leighton. When I saw the evil grin slither on his face, I knew it was going to be bad.
“Little Miller, I think city here wants us to leave. And trust me when I say it’s in our best interest to get out of here. When things get kinky with that one”—he pointed a thumb toward me, lowering his voice—“you want to be out of target range.”