I try not to look surprised at the discovery of her last name. Jameson. No doubt related to Warner Jameson. Maybe his mother. Or aunt. Or older sister.

And not completely out of the realm of possibility: his wife. I gauged Warner at late twenties, but it wouldn’t be the first time an older woman and younger man got together.

My bet would still be on blood relation, but because I have no idea, I decide to keep my mouth shut. Sawdust and Supplies is the only hardware store in Pine Falls, and I do not want to piss off the owner by unknowingly revealing I rode on the back of her husband’s bike.

And also … just possibly … flirted with him.

Best to keep my mouth shut.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m at the register, racking up a hefty bill on my credit card.

But there were just so many lovely tools! I reach out a finger to stroke an electric dremel that I can’t wait to use on a certain rocking chair.

“Zoey?”

The familiar voice elicits goose bumps down the back of my neck.

Warner Jameson.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I’ve run into Warner here now that I know he’s somehow connected to the owner of the shop.

When I turn, he stands framed by the doorway, midday light making his edges glow.

“Hi, Warner.”

“You two know each other?” Rebecca’s eyes flick between us.

Please don’t be his wife. Please don’t be his wife.

“Hey, Mom.”

Oh, thank the universe.

“Yeah, we met at Sip ’N’ Sew.”

“Sip ’N’ Stitch,” I correct.

“Of course. My bad.”

Warner saunters into the store, and I can’t help noticing the difference in his appearance. At the biker bar, he was in a black T-shirt, jeans, and his leathers. Today, he has on jeans again, but he’s paired them with a torn tank top that shows off his arms and a neon safety vest. The bright color should look garish, but it only helps to enhance the tan shade of his skin. His hair is slicked back from his face, sitting flat against his head in a funny way. My guess is, it’s the result of wearing a hard hat.

“Do you work on a construction crew?” I ask.

Warner grins down at his vest and ruffles a hand in his hair. “What gave me away?”

“Why were you at Sip ’N’ Stitch?” Rebecca is clearly still stuck on how her son met the new girl in town.

“For Zoey, of course.” He aims a charming grin at his mother, which she answers with a grimace.

“You’re sassing me.”

“Never,” he responds, still smiling before turning back to me. “What did you buy? Please tell me power tools. There is nothing sexier than a woman wielding power tools.”