Free Snowflake Bay by Donna Kauffman Page A

not as a sister. After all, hadn’t he pursued her older sister like some poor dumb dog all through high school? But she wasn’t . . . well, she was just Fiona. Bratty, annoying—he glanced up again, unable to help himself, and swallowed hard—sexy-as-hell, sweet Mary, mother of God, with-curves-that-made-his-palms-sweat Fiona. When in the hell had that happened?
    â€œI appreciate your making time for me today, Eula,” she was saying as he snapped his gaze away from the way that jewel-tone knit clung to a pair of full, perky breasts that begged a man to find out just what she wore under that sweater to make them sit up like that. You are so going to hell. That’s Logan’s sister, for God’s sake. He gave up trying to figure out why it was a sin to covet Fiona’s breasts when he’d wanted to do a whole lot more than put his hands on Logan’s other sister. Maybe it was because Fiona had always been such a kid, whereas he’d thought of Hannah as, well, maybe not a woman back in those days, but surely not a bratty kid. Fiona was what, four years younger than he was? Which was nothing now that they were grown adults, but . . . gah , shoot me now.
    He came back to the conversation as Eula was asking, “Did everything go okay with Beanie and the closing? She didn’t have a last-minute change of heart?”
    Ben’s gaze shifted from Eula to Fiona in time to see her smooth, all-business expression falter. “Did she say something to you? Was her heart not in the retirement? Because I asked her a dozen times, two dozen even, whether she was sure—”
    â€œYou bought Beanie’s Fat Quarters? The old quilt shop?” he blurted out, thinking he just wanted to get his mind focused on anything besides Fiona McCrae’s undergarments, but the surprise was real. “She’s run that place for as long as I’ve been alive. Does that mean you’re giving up interior design?”
    Both women looked at him, but it was Fiona who responded to the question. “Beanie’s been talking about retiring. She and Hannah had a little, uh, run-in, last summer, and Beanie took that as a sign that maybe it was time to move on to her next life chapter. Apparently she’d been considering it for some time. Her husband passed away a few years ago, and—”
    â€œYes, my folks told me. I know that was a loss to the community. All the signs he’d painted for the town over the years.”
    â€œYes, well, that’s the thing that sort of finalized the deal. I promised Beanie that I’d be keeping the same bright, fun, cheerful mood of her place, and that I’d personally see to it that all of Carl’s signs were maintained, at least as long as the signs remained relevant to the community.”
    â€œShould consider doing some signs yourself,” Eula put in. “A good way to get involved in the Cove’s business community, get folks to see who you are now, all grown up. Nice way to market yourself at the same time.”
    Fiona smiled at Eula. “I was thinking the exact same thing. In fact, I’ve already made a quick stop to see Owen at the hardware store to see if I can bring it up at the next council meeting.” She looked at Ben. “Did you know Owen is also our new mayor?”
    â€œI’d heard,” he said absently, but his mind wasn’t really on the conversation. It was still on Fiona. Not her breasts, thank God, though they really were remarkable, but . . . just on her. When he’d come upon her in the kitchen out at the Point the previous week, she’d just seemed . . . well, like the grown-up version of the Fireplug Fi he’d spent a lifetime tormenting and being tormented by. She’d always seemed to be a little irritated with him, which in turn had just egged him on.
    Though, to be fair, that day in the McCrae kitchen, it had been different. He’d appreciated her sincere interest