Gathered Up. Annabeth Albert
of why none of those things were happening in my life, even with someone as intriguing as Evren. I had three kids depending on me, a sister who should still be a kid, too, and absolutely no room for anything else.
Chapter 2
“Fiber and color should match your mood. Don’t underestimate the power of a cushy cotton to relax you or a sturdy wool to invigorate you. Likewise, look for spots of color, even on your darkest days.”—Evren’s Yarnings
The third time Evren came into the shop for an Americano, extra sweet, extra shot, I had the to-go cup waiting before he got to the front of the line. It was late morning, so I wasn’t the only one on duty. Miracle of miracles, I hadn’t caught the twins’ plague and had made it through the full week. Audrey rang him up, but I waited until he was right in front of my end of the counter to put the drink up. Yes, I totally was hard up enough that I took pleasure in tiny little things like the brush of his hand against mine or the way he smiled with gratitude or how he always took the first sip before he left the shop, wincing a bit at the temperature, throat muscles working…
Fuck. He was sexy as hell. And he always took a moment to greet me by name and ask how my day was. Same question every day, but that small courtesy was almost sexier than the rest of him put together.
“Thank you, Brady,” he said as he grabbed that day’s drink. As usual, his eyes lingered longer than strictly necessary on my face. Man was going to give me a reason to take up shaving and hair product again. “I really should start bringing a reusable cup, yes?”
“We sell some.” I motioned at the display near the entrance. “You could knit a cozy for it, maybe?”
“Maybe I will.” His eyes went all thoughtful and his fingers drummed against his cup, like I’d been serious and not teasing. “Not a bad idea at all. Actually, what do you think about a cozy contest?”
“A cozy contest?”
“For Knit Night. I’ll put up a flyer. We’ll see how creative people can get.” Something about the way he said creative made my mind go to dirty places. But then, his voice pretty much always had that effect on me.
“I can probably get my boss to donate a mug for the winner,” I said. Randy was a bit unpredictable, and not as caring as Chris, Randy’s ex-partner, who’d managed this location for as long as I’d been here before moving away with his new boyfriend last year. However, Randy was a keen businessman, and he’d see the value in such a promotion. “So you’re coming to more Knit Night events?”
“Of course.” He raised an eyebrow. Even his eyebrows were refined and elegant, dark slashes with a slight upturn. “And I think a contest like this will be just what Mira needs. Something to make her smile.”
“One of the ladies said it’s cancer?” I asked. Hell, I’d take up needles or hooks or whatever myself if I thought it would help Mira.
He nodded. “Pancreatic. She’s started treatment, but…” He drifted off with a helpless gesture.
Even I knew that was a largely fatal cancer. “Fuck,” I said, then remembered I was at work. “Sorry. I just mean—”
“No, that’s exactly how I feel. Fuck.”
“So you’ll be around a while, then?” I asked.
“As long as it takes to get her on her feet again. Which we will do. We do not care about such things as odds,” he said firmly.
“She’ll beat it,” I said, forcing some conviction into my words. And if I felt a slight twinge at the news that Evren’s stay might be temporary…well, such things were better ignored anyway.
“I believe so. I had to quit my job in Brooklyn when they wouldn’t give me time off, but getting her better is more important.” He sounded a bit wistful about the job, further underscoring that he’d be moving on soon enough. “I’m a freelance knitwear designer now, so I can work just about anywhere, but my main job is going to be keeping her well and keeping the shop running until she’s ready to take it back over.”
“Good luck,” I said, because I wasn’t really sure what else I could say…or do. On impulse, I grabbed another to-go cup. “Wait a sec. Let me make her a chai.”
“Oh, that is so kind of you, Brady, but I just made her Turkish coffee a little while ago. Her appetite, it is not that good this week.”
I paused with the cup still in my hand. “Wait. You made coffee. And then came over here?”
“Good-bye, Brady. Do have a nice afternoon.” He gave me a little wave as he backed out of the shop.
Sneaky, sneaky man. Whom I had absolutely no time for but who had me smiling all afternoon long.
The next day, Evren brought over a flyer that he tacked to the community message board. On it was a photo of a cup cozy with a replica of Iplik’s logo. He fished the real deal from his bag and showed it to me.
“You whipped this up in one day?” I fingered the soft, thick yarn.
He shrugged. “Mira watched a marathon of some teen paranormal show. There was a lot of time to pass.”
I chuckled at the image of Mira, who had to be around sixty, desperate to catch the next episode of some teen angst drama. “Nice. You’re a good nephew.”
“She’s a better aunt.” Some distant sadness passed in his eyes, there then gone before I could suss it out. “You can keep the cozy if you want. I’m going to tweak the design before next week.”
“Thanks. You know, for a guy who isn’t planning on sticking around, you seem rather…invested in Knit Night.”
“It is important to my aunt.” He waved his hand like it was a simple matter, when I knew full well that cheerfully putting the preferences of others first wasn’t easy. I loved how his hands moved as he talked—more expressive than most people but full of confidence, not drama.
“Mind if I give this to my sister?” I asked. If possible, Renee drank more coffee than I did, which was partly my fault, because I’d been slipping her free coffee since she was in high school. And she was a die-hard environmentalist who wouldn’t dream of using a paper cup. She deserved way more than a cozy after a week of sick-kid duty, but I knew that adding it to her favorite reusable cup would make her smile.
“I would be delighted.” He grinned at me, the most playful smile I’d seen from him yet, and it carried me all through the weekend.
* * * *
I had a plan when Knit Night came around the following week. Everyone was healthy, so I’d told Renee I might be a bit late home, and she hadn’t grumbled as much as she did sometimes. I’d spent a little extra time getting ready, too—putting my favorite small wood gauges in my ears and pulling back my hair into a neater ponytail than my usual messy man bun. Trimmed the beard down from mountain man to quietly hipster. I might not have time for someone like Evren, but that didn’t stop a guy from wishing.
Randy had blessed me with a second barista for the evening shift for once, so I wasn’t so slammed with the rush of ladies and had more time to ogle Evren, who was wearing a loosely knit white cardigan. On any other dude it would have looked delicate and feminine, but on him it looked as regal as a military uniform. He admired each cozy with the same enthusiasm, even the ones that were a mess of knots and glitter.
“Brady, come judge,” he called after the initial rush was done and he’d laid out all the cup cozies on a table.
“Which is yours?” I hissed, stepping closer than absolutely necessary. I didn’t want to accidentally declare him the winner, because he’d told me earlier to take him out of the running. But mainly I just wanted the excuse to see what he smelled like. The scent was something I wasn’t expecting—holly and pine. It was early spring and he smelled like a Christmas tree farm I’d visited long ago. And wool. It was a very comforting smell, and I had to stop myself from leaning in to him.
“That