Shy guffaws. “Well, we have her to thank, then. It’s a mighty big improvement!”
Ethan walks over to the grocery aisle and throws a few things in his basket. He hides it behind his back, so I won’t look inside. Now I’m curious as all hell about what a man like him needs from the store.
The door chimes again, and Ethan sees who it is, walks straight to the counter, says something quietly to Shy, who rings him up quickly and lets him pay. Then he dashes out the door as quickly as he arrived.
I walk up to the counter. “What just happened?”
Shy looks toward the couple that just walked in. They’re staring out the front window toward where Ethan is backing out of his parking spot, looking angry. “He doesn’t care much for people talking about him,” Shy says softly, his eyes still cutting over to look at the pair.
“Why are they talking about him?”
He stares at me. “You don’t know about what happened?”
“No. Was it big? It must have been huge.”
He nods. “Some people around here blame him for an accident that happened.”
“Oh.” I look at the people, who are still whispering fiercely to themselves as they watch the taillights of Ethan’s truck get smaller in the distance.
“I say the man has done his time and they need to leave him alone. He paid for it.”
“Time?” I am thoroughly confused now.
Shy glares at me. “I thought you said you know him.”
“I do. Well, I did. A long time ago.” I unload my purchases.
He picks up the box of cake mix. “Somebody got a birthday?” he asks, like he’s ready to change the subject.
“Yeah, that jackass that just walked out of here.”
Shy’s face softens. “This is for Ethan?”
I nod as heat creeps up my cheeks.
“Then you’re all right in my book, Abigail,” he says. “You can come back here anytime.”
He picks up the shirt and reads it. “He takes that stupid duck everywhere.” He rolls his eyes. “I think it’s good he’s got something to love. Nobody deserves love more than Ethan.” He heaves a sigh and puts the candles in the bag without ringing them up. “They’re on me,” he explains. “Since it’s his birthday.” He grins at me as he hands me my bag. His voice drops down to a whisper. “I have a feeling you’re going to be good for Ethan.”
“I’m only here for a short while,” I reply.
“And maybe he’ll be good for you,” he goes on as though I hadn’t spoken.
“It’s not like that,” I explain, shaking my head.
He chuckles, and it’s a throaty, full sound. “You turned about ten shades of red when he was messing with you,” he says. He looks toward where Ethan was parked. “I haven’t seen Ethan look that relaxed since he got back.”
“Ethan and I were friends many years ago,” I tell him. “Good friends. He might have even been my first kiss.” Heat creeps up my cheeks again.
“Make that eleven shades of pink, Abigail,” Shy says. “Must have been some kiss.”
I smile at him. “Oh, it was.” It was honest and it was real and it was with the right boy.
He looks at me, his gaze intent. “Be patient with him, Abigail. He’s been through a lot.” He taps the counter with his fingertips to let me know he’s done with me. “I’ll be seeing you again sometime,” he says. He winks at me. “I hope.”
I grin at him as I leave, and he turns, stony-faced, to help the couple that ruined Ethan’s good mood. Gone is happy, carefree Shy. Now he’s a man who wants nothing more than for them to make their purchases and get out of his store.
I drive back to the cabin and go searching under the cabinet for Gran’s old cake pan, and I finally find it shoved way at the back. I pull it out, and I start mixing the cake. I don’t have a measuring cup or a mixer, so I have to do the best I can with what I have.