Taylor looked around. Every square inch of Rustic Refined had been artfully arranged to appear cozy and haphazard. The space was interesting, well stocked, and inviting. She’d never have been able to pull it off on her own.
“What if no one comes? Wait, that might not be so bad. We’d have the whole place to ourselves and I could have my way with you on the farmhouse table.” The more she thought about the idea, the more it appealed.
Julia shot her a stern look. “People will come.”
They’d invited enough of them. Between family and friends, both their client lists, and every other business in town, the potential guest list topped three hundred. If even a quarter of them showed up, they wouldn’t all fit in the store at one time. “Yeah.”
Julia came over and grabbed the front of Taylor’s shirt. “We want people to come.”
“Right. Yes. I know. I’m ready.”
Julia angled her head and made a face. “Maybe don’t look so wild-eyed when you say it.”
She laughed and at least some of the tension fell away. As nervous as she was to embark on this new journey, doing it with Julia might be the single best decision she’d ever made. Well, aside from asking Julia out in the first place. “Yes, dear.”
Julia poked her elbow into Taylor’s ribs. “Don’t call me dear.”
“Yes, goddess.”
“Better.” She grinned. “Now, are we ready?”
Ready was a relative term. But they were set to open the doors in five minutes, so she was about as ready as she was going to be. “Totally.”
“You don’t think it’s silly to open on our anniversary, do you?”
When they’d picked the date, the most logical Saturday happened to be exactly one year after their chance meeting at the hardware store. To Taylor’s way of thinking, setting up shop together was the ultimate celebration. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
Julia hung her head and looked up at Taylor through her lashes. “Not anything?”
God, she loved this woman. “Maybe a couple of things.”
Julia grinned and shot her a wink. “Just checking.”
“Later, I promise.”
The look in her eyes was all suggestion. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Taylor reluctantly let go of her and went to open their doors officially. A handful of people were already waiting or making their way from the parking lot—mostly her relatives or Julia’s, but also a few people she didn’t recognize at all. She welcomed them, pointed out the location of the food and Julia’s studio, then started over with the next batch.
She and Julia took shifts at the door and working the room. She was pretty sure she’d never talked to so many people in one day. Once or twice, she wanted to disappear into the back for a moment of quiet. But then she’d look over at Julia, who radiated charm and upbeat energy with seemingly no effort at all. It spurred her to keep smiling and chatting and all the other things a shopkeeper needed to do.
And if she reminded herself from time to time that every day wouldn’t be this busy, well, there was no harm. Neither was thinking about how many more hours until she got to take Julia home.
* * *
When the last of the guests trickled out a little after eight, Julia flipped the lock and turned the vintage sign she’d found at the flea market to closed. “I think that was a success.”
Taylor surveyed the shop, hands on hips. “I’d say so.”
“Honestly, I didn’t really think we’d make many sales.” She’d been wrong. She was glad to have arranged for Cal to work or they’d have spent the better part of the party behind the register.
“Same. Not that I’m complaining.” Taylor crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Julia. “I feel bad all your perfect arranging is in disarray.”
“I think you’re going to have to get used to it.” Even if she found Taylor’s concern kind of adorable.
“Should we restock before going home?”
They were scheduled for their first day of regular hours tomorrow, and Julia expected quite a bit of foot traffic. She’d stockpiled inventory—Taylor’s creations, her photographs, and a smattering of other local arts and crafts—so they had plenty. But today was for celebrating. “No, we can do that in the morning. We’ll be fresher then anyway.”
Taylor’s hands shifted from around her waist to her ass. “Does that mean I get to take you home now?”
The innuendo in the question sent a ripple of arousal through her. It caught her sometimes how much she wanted Taylor, more today than a year ago. But it was the other subtext that really got her. The one about home.
They’d moved in together only a month prior, after Julia had finished her residency and they literally spent every night together. It didn’t make any sense to maintain two houses and cart Waylon back and forth. And as much as she loved Meemaw’s house, it would always be that—Meemaw’s house. Her family hadn’t put it on the market yet, but she figured it was only a matter of time. She’d expected the idea to make her sad, but it didn’t. Meemaw’s house deserved to have a family bustling around in it. Yes, she and Taylor had started talking about that sort of thing, but Taylor’s house, with the workshop and the land and the more secluded location, suited them perfectly.
“What? I can see your wheels turning. Was that the wrong thing to say?”
Julia shook her head. “No.”
“What, then?”
“Stop being a worrywart.” She gave Taylor’s side a gentle pinch. “I’m just happy to be going home with you.”
Understanding flashed in Taylor’s eyes. “Home.”
“A lot more than I bargained for when I accepted the window repair services of an old friend. Or went out to dinner with the sexy woman who was supposed to be my wingman, for that matter.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Never. It still gets me sometimes that I found my happily ever after right here.”
Taylor lifted a shoulder and smiled. “You know what they say.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s always the last place you look.”
She’d always thought it a rather silly saying because who’d keep looking for something after they found it? But now, wrapped up in Taylor’s arms and so very much in love, it made absolutely perfect sense.