Ethan looked gobsmacked. “Honestly, I didn’t think you were payin’ any attention at all,” he said. “Much less full of ideas.”
Willow heaved a sigh, met Maria’s eyes, then rolled hers. “We always got the feelin’ you didn’t want our input,” she said.
“What gave you that feelin’?” he asked.
She shrugged. Trevor said, “Mainly because you don’t talk that much about it when you’re home.”
Ethan shook his head in self-deprecation. “I didn’t want to come off like I was braggin’ all the time, you know?” he said.
“Braggin’,” Willow said, shaking her head. “Well, now that we’ve got that out in the open, I have a few ideas about your next album cover.”
Amazing what a little communication could do, Lily thought
The cantina looked entirely different the next morning. It was empty and spotless, the chairs were flipped over, atop the tables. The ‘Closed’ sign hung crooked in the front window. Ethan stood in the middle of the open floor looking around. What the hell was he doing? What did he know about running a business? He should be writing and touring to test out songs for the next album.
He was supposed to have been doing those things ever since the first album had dropped. “At least now I’ll have an excuse for my failed career.”
“You’re twenty-nine years old, Ethan,” Lily said.
He’d felt her come in just the instant before she’d spoken. A chill of sheer pleasure danced up his spine any time she was nearby. He cursed his luck yet again for being this attracted to a woman who was off-limits for a one-night-stand or a casual fling. She was family. His cousin-in-law’s sister. That might not be considered close in most families, but it was in his.
He didn’t turn, since she was moving up to stand beside him. “We have our work cut out for us, huh?”
He looked down at her then. She wore a denim shirt, unsnapped over a black tank-top, and jeans over heavy-duty work boots. A tool belt was buckled around her waist, he noticed, and he couldn’t hide his smile.
“Oh, you like that?” she asked, hooking her thumbs behind twin screwdrivers. A hammer hung at her hip like a six-shooter.
“You borrowed it from your dad,” he said.
“How do you know it’s not my own?”
“I can read you like a book.”
Lily fell silent, her eyes widening slowly.
Then he added, “And his initials are on the nail-apron.”
She looked down at her own front, where HH was the same upside down. “I should’ve remembered. I’m the one who got it for him. Father’s Day, five years ago, I think.”
“It’s worn well,” he said.
“Mainly, I wore it for the tape measure, and to carry my tablet around.” She pulled her iPad out of the apron’s nail pocket.
“And in case we decide to knock down a wall?” he asked, with a nod at the hammer.
“Well, yeah. Obviously.” She smiled brightly, then pointed to the table directly inside the door where she’d deposited a cardboard tray with a pair of extra-large coffees and a bag he hoped held donuts. “From the donut shop up the road,” she said.
He made growly sounds and headed for the table, taking the coffee with the E on the lid, and then peering into the bag. “Yes, raspberry jam, my favorite.”
“I know. I’ll take that glazed one, if you don’t mind.”
He plucked the donut and brought it to her along with both coffees.
“Thanks,” she said. She was surveying the room. “While the rest of us pigged out, last night, Dad jotted a few notes for the kitchen.”
“He did?”
“He’s not trying to butt in, just wants to be helpful. Says it’s just stuff he’d want if he were in charge of it.”
