Chapter Text
“Oh, and I completely forgot to tell you about this adorable little café in Walnut Groove. They had the best tarts. They infused the berry cream with lavender and it was,” Pablo kissed his fingers, “ mwah , absolute perfection. I stopped by every morning to buy one before I went out to tour the other districts. I would have brought a few back with me if I knew they would have made the trip.”
Robbie chuckled as she stirred her sandthorn juice with her straw. “It sounds like you were far more interested in finding the best desserts in the city rather than the latest hairstyles.”
Pablo made a noncommittal sound as he toyed with the amethyst pendant around his neck—her parting gift to him when he left a month ago. It was meant to protect him while he traveled. She was touched to see he kept it despite finding her lapidary hobby (or obsession , as he so sweetly called it) a bunch of codswallop—his words, not hers.
“Inspiration can come from anywhere.”
Inspiration, her ass. This was his third trip to Walnut Groove in the last two months. He traveled often enough, but that was a bit excessive, even for him. Clearly, something kept him coming back—and it wasn’t the hairstyles. She’d been to Walnut Groove before and the overall fashion was a little too out there for his tastes. Heidi had her theories that it wasn’t something, rather, someone . Robbie just thought he got restless being in one place for too long. It happened to her plenty of times.
They had a running bet until they learned which it was—not that Pablo would ever tell them.
Robbie took a sip of her drink. It burned in the best way as it slid down her throat and warmed her chest. She coughed and managed a tight, “A full month is a pretty long time to gather inspiration.”
He shrugged.
“In the same city.”
Another shrug.
“Three times.”
The color rose in his cheeks.
She smirked. Got him. “Dontcha think?”
“What can I say? The city is inspiring .” His blush bled into his hairline.
Someone definitely caught his eye. Guess she owed Heidi a night out.
“No wonder you were gone so long.”
He threw his hands in the air and exclaimed, “I was gone so long because the idea of coming back here made me want to give myself bangs. Did you hear me? Bangs , Robbie, it’s not a good look for me.”
“Oh, come on, this town isn’t that bad.”
“Isn’t it?” Pablo clucked his tongue. “You’ve been here, what, almost a year now? I’m sure you’ve already figured out how boring this place is.”
Robbie disagreed. She’d traveled to a lot of places over the years and none of them were quite like Sandrock. Now, whether that was a compliment or not had yet to be decided, but she would never use boring and Sandrock in the same sentence. Commissions for the guild kept her pretty busy during the day and her nights were spent hunched over her latest jewelry project or having a drink at the saloon. Either with Heidi or Pablo, sometimes both, but it all depended on their schedules and whether they lined up.
She would rather this life than having to oversee fields of golden wheat for the rest of her life back in Highwind. She and plants never really saw eye to eye.
“If you dislike this place so much, then why do you keep coming back?”
“Because I think everyone deserves to feel pretty.” He took a sip of his drink. His lips puckered instantly. She had warned him sandthorn juice had a kick. He swayed more toward the sweeter drinks, but he insisted they get fucked up that evening—sandthorn juice was the quickest way to get that done. “Who else would make the people in this dying ghost town feel pretty if I wasn’t around?”
Robbie shrugged. He made a fair point. Without him around to dole out his sage advice on all things hair care, they were left at the mercy of people like Pen who thought slathering his hair with enough gel would distract from all the grease and sand gathering at his roots. “We do value your expertise.”
He scoffed. “I’ll believe that when you let me get your hands on your hair.”
He motioned to her wild mane of golden curls. She tucked them defensively behind her ears, but they popped right back out, sending granules of sand flying. That shit got everywhere . His nose crinkled as he brushed the sand from the front of his skirt. “You have a gorgeous head of curls, but they’re out of control. I found the perfect cut for you. I think it would compliment your face shape. Please let me style your hair.”
She batted his hand away as he reached to touch her hair. “I think you have plenty of clients. You don’t need my hair to fill the void.” She knocked back the rest of her drink and waved Owen over for another. He got to work, pouring more of the hazy green juice into a tumbler with a fresh squeezed lime—just how she liked it.
“Besides, don’t you have something better to do with your time?”
“No,” he groaned, “I don’t even have gossip to keep me going. The last thing to happen to this town was Owen’s failed love confession.”
The man in question shot him a half-hearted glare. He set the glass in front of Robbie and said, “The geeglers tried to overtake the town the other week. I think we have enough excitement in this town.”
Pablo waved him off. “Who cares. My clients were far more interested in the fact that you gave a professional potter a clay vase. One you didn’t even make yourself. She probably has hundreds of them lying around.”
“I tried to warn him about that.” She even slipped ground some blue lace agate into the clay to help fend off any potential rejection he might face, gentle as it might be from Amirah. It gave the pot a pretty periwinkle shimmer and Robbie thought it was some of her best work, but clearly, there wasn’t enough agate in the world to help Owen.
Robbie hid her smile in her drink. “Guess luck wasn’t on your side this time.”
His gaze flicked to her as if to say, Not you too .
She merely shrugged. The pleasant ripple under her skin was more noticeable now. He should know by now that no one was safe from her teasing, but she threw him a bone. “But at least she was polite enough to take it.”
“I imagine she wasn’t too keen to see a grown man cry,” Pablo chimed in.
“Y’all, it wasn’t that bad.”
It was that bad.
Robbie had stumbled upon them by accident. She felt second-hand embarrassment as Amirah thanked him with a polite smile and set the vase to join the rest of her collection—her vase paling in comparison to the ones she made. Owen had stuttered his way through a kind of, sort of confession that ended with Amirah making an excuse to go find Arvio at the shop and hurrying off in a half-jog. She’d never seen Amirah run before.
Bad didn’t even cover it.
Naturally, Robbie rushed straight to Pablo to tell him everything.
“I wasn’t tryin’ to confess. I just wanted to give her somethin’ nice.”
Pablo and Robbie shared a look. Poor guy. “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said, “Your crush on Amirah is the worst kept secret in town. It kept the crones at the salon fed for weeks. ”
Owen flushed and turned his attention back to wiping down the bar. He liked to pretend like he didn’t find them amusing, but they were regulars and he was stuck with them whether he liked it or not.
“You’re terrible,” she told Pablo, “I’m beginning to think you only came back here to stir up trouble, then once you’ve made a mess of things, you’ll be off again.”
“Guilty.” He smoothed his green curls back into place, though it hadn’t moved. “If you want to keep me around a little while longer, you could always help make things a little more interesting for me around here.”
Her eyes slitted as he shot her a mischievous smile. She hated that smile. “And how would I be able to help?”
“Why don’t we make ourselves a little wager?”
That piqued her interest. “What are the stakes?”
“Kiss someone before the saloon closes for the night.” He traced the rim of his glass with a slender finger. “It’ll give me some fodder for the rumor mill that’s gone dry. It doesn’t have to be much. Just a little peck on the lips.”
She rolled her eyes. He knew she never half-assed anything. If he wanted a kiss, he’d get a fucking kiss.
“Our notoriously single builder finally shows a romantic interest in someone after a year of mingling with the locals. Who will she choose?” Pablo said with a flourish, “That’ll be enough to drive the clients wild for a month or two.”
“And what do I get out of this arrangement? I’m not exactly looking to be the star of the rumor mill here.”
“I can make it worth your while.”
She found that incredibly hard to believe. “How?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He pulled a small wooden box from his pocket and slid it across the bar. It was artfully carved from mahogany and stained a deep red. His devilish grin should have been telling and she should know better than to make deals with the devil, but her curiosity got the best of her. She opened the box to find a pair of dangly, gold earrings inlaid with veined blue stones. Her eyes rounded in surprise.
“Lapis lazuli.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Your wisdom stone or whatever you’re always calling it. It was one of my great finds from my last trip. They’re yours if you win the bet.”
It was a terrible idea to even consider. Had Heidi been there, she would have talked her out of it—ever the voice of reason in their little trio. But Heidi wasn’t there. The whole debacle with the bridge ran her ragged and she needed the time off. Robbie didn’t blame her, of course, but balls , she could really use someone with a brain cell right about now.
“And if I don’t kiss someone before the saloon closes?” She met his unwavering gaze only to find them sparkling. Gossip always made him act like this. “What happens then?”
“What are you willing to give me?”
“I don’t have much.” Just her crystal collection, but he’d have to pry that from her cold, dead hands. “I didn’t come with much when I moved. Didn’t have much to bring, ya know?” Pablo nodded sagely. “Everything I have these days is for commissions.” She bobbed her head thoughtfully. “I guess I could give you my earnings for the next commission I turn in.”
“Deal.” He held out his hand.
No hesitation. Weird . Pablo normally liked to haggle. It was part of the game for him. Her mind swirled in sandthorn juice, so she didn’t dwell on it too long. She took his hand and shook. “Deal.”
“Robbie…” Owen inclined his head. “Uh, I don’t mean to eavesdrop.” He did, but no one called him out on it. It came with being the sole barkeep in a small town. “But you do remember what your latest commission is, right?”
“Yeah, the bridge trusses.”
He stared at her pointedly.
She stared back.
A beat of silence passed before she realized how royally she just fucked up. The ice rattled in her glass as she slammed her hands on the bar. “Oh shit, fuck me. I can’t give you that commission. That’ll finally give me the money I need for that workshop expansion. You know I’ve been saving months for that.”
“Sorry, love.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “Deals are deals, but there’s an easy way to win this bet, ya know.”
She just had to kiss someone. It should be easy enough. Walk up to someone, ask for a little smooch and… She peered around the saloon and her heart plummeted. They were the only two there which was unsurprising seeing as it was well past dinner and Monday. Owen hadn’t even bothered to turn on the stage lights in the dining room and Grace left shortly after they arrived for drinks.
She turned back to Owen and gave him a quick once over. Not really her type, but it was only a kiss. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and she wasn’t above begging. A saccharine smile curved her lips. “Hey Owen, would you maybe wanna—”
“Nuh uh.” Pablo wagged his finger in her face and she was half-tempted to bite it. “He doesn’t count because he already knows and that takes the fun out of it.”
“I don’t mind kissing you.”
Of course, he didn’t. That boy was too nice for his own good. It would get him in trouble one of these days. Robbie pouted. “I don’t remember setting rules this time around. You’re only against this because you know no one would believe it if you told them Owen and I kissed.”
“Everyone knows he likes Amirah,” Pablo exasperated, “The rumor would die before it left the salon and I have a reputation to uphold in this town. It has to be someone else.”
Robbie ground her teeth. “I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this.”
Where was Heidi when you needed her?
Her gaze fell to her drink. Fat beads of water clung to the side of the glass, pooling on the worn wood bar. She should have thought things through—just this once. One might argue that there was no contract. No one said she had to give Pablo the gols from her commission if she lost the bet.
Only her pride.
And her pride always won out in the end.
She gripped her glass. “So, we wait then.”
He nodded. “We wait.”
Another hour passed, then a second. Robbie kept her eyes fixed between the doors, one knee bouncing like a desert hopper through the dunes. Someone had to stop in tonight, right? This was the only decent place in town that stayed open once the sun went down.
She shoved her hand in her pocket and brushed her thumb over the citrine she carried with her for good vibrations, but the stone offered little in ways of comfort as time ticked on. She should have brought the ruby instead.
“Times running out,” Pablo drawled in a sing-songy voice, “What’re you gonna do?”
The clock chimed on the upper landing. It was almost closing time and she wasn’t any closer to getting Pablo his gossip then she was when they started. At this rate, she’d lose several hundred gols in a matter of minutes and she’d have to wait on her expansion.
It never occurred to her just how much stuff she’d accumulate in a year. Her workshop was bursting at the seams and she needed the extra space. She was such a minimalist that all the clutter was starting to give her hives.
She set her empty glass to join the rest of them—four to be exact. The room swam on the edge of her vision and she couldn’t feel her toes. Owen should have cut her off two drinks ago, but the sandthorn juice kept flowing.
“Why’d you even make this bet if you knew no one was going to come in?”
“Because I was bored,” Pablo played with one of the tassels on his shawl, “And you twitch when you start to panic.” A muscle in her jaw feathered. “Just like that!”
She flipped him off. “Why am I friends with you again?”
“Because we’re both lost souls.”
Damn. Right again.
“Ya know, I really don’t mind kissin’ ya,” Owen said as he wiped out a glass near them, “as much I enjoy seein’ these bets blow up spectacularly in your face on any other night, I’d hate to see ya lose this one.” His cerulean eyes softened and reminded her of the waters of the Oasis. That look might work with anyone else, but it failed to rouse anything for her. “You worked hard on those trusses and you should get paid for it.”
“ Ugh . Owen, you’re too nice.” Pablo sprawled out across the bar, a soft pink dusting his cheeks. He tried to keep pace with her, but gave up after two drinks. Lightweight . “I want this to be spontaneous.”
He arched an eyebrow. “It’s one kiss. I don’t mind takin’ one for the team.”
Robbie pursed her lips. Taking one for the team , huh? She liked to think she was slightly more desirable than that, but maybe she thought too highly of herself. “You seem really keen to kiss me there. Wouldn’t reflect well on you if Amirah caught wind of this rumor, now would it?”
His jaw clenched and she knew she struck a nerve. “I was just tryin’ to help ya out.”
She knew that, but her mood had taken a turn for the worse and she knew her temper wouldn’t faze Pablo. Owen became her unfortunate victim as the only other breathing thing within earshot. “Well, I don’t need your help. Besides, you heard Pablo.” She shoved her empty glass toward him. “I can’t kiss you.”
“I’m cuttin’ you off.”
About damn time. She’d be nursing a killer hangover in the morning. She could already feel the tension pressing down on her temples. An amethyst under her pillow might help—or not—but she could try.
“Don’t come cryin’ to me when you lose.” His voice lacked any bite. They both knew he’d bend over backwards to help someone in need—especially if they worked their tears on him. He was a sucker for tears. He swiped the empty glasses and the rest of the bottle of juice.
Smart man.
She would have definitely poured herself another glass to dull her frayed nerves.
“I’ll be in the back cleanin’ things up,” he headed toward the kitchen, “Don’t get into too much trouble, ya hear?”
As the door swung shut behind him, Pablo turned to her and said, “And you call me a terrible person?”
She cut him with a glare. They were both terrible people. It wasn’t a competition. “I’m sorry.” Her words slurred together and were barely coherent. “You’re not the one who’s going to be out hundreds of gols if someone doesn’t walk through—”
The bell to the front door chimed.
“Owen, my man, do you mind makin’ a last minute drink?”
She had never been more relieved to hear someone’s voice. Justice . She could work with Justice. Honestly, anyone would work be it boy, girl, yakmel—it really didn’t matter as long as she won. She spun in her chair as he pulled up to the bar, grabbed him firmly by the collar of his Civil Corps jacket, and mashed their mouths together.
It sucked. There were no fireworks or sparks or any of that mushy bullshit Heidi gushed over when she finished a new romance novel—not that she expected all that from someone like Justice.
Their teeth clacked painfully. He tasted like honey barbeque pork—his dinner, if she was to make a guess. Could he taste the beef noodles she had earlier? Or the sandthorn juice? Light, she probably reeked of alcohol.
Actually, that might be a good thing. She could play this whole thing off as a drunken mistake.
His mouth parted in surprise. Her common sense (or lack thereof) had the brilliant idea to take things a step further. Fuck Pablo and his stupid bets. He wanted a show. Fine . She’d give him a show. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and it coaxed a low, breathy sound that left an uncomfortable ache between her thighs.
It made her want to moan right back. In fact, she did moan. It came out before she could stop it. Robbie wanted to shrivel up and die.
Someone chuckled behind her.
“Uh, hey, Robs. What’re ya doin’ there?”
The blood froze in her veins.
That was Justice’s voice.
Which made no sense because her tongue was currently stuffed down his throat like some kind of horny teenager. The realization hit her like a kick to teeth. Roiling panic quickly replaced that pleasant heat needling her gut. Unless she wasn’t kissing him. She cracked one eye open, dreading who she’d find on the receiving end.
Unsuur stared at her with wide eyes. It was so unlike his usual stony indifference. His hands hovered over her shoulders like he was trying to decide whether to shove her off or not. Only then did the horrifying realization occur to her that her tongue was still stuck down his throat.
She was going to kill Pablo.
Breaking away, she licked her lips and said, “I—uh, I didn’t mean to…” She puttered off. What was she trying to say? She didn’t mean to kiss him? The kiss had been intentional, just not with him.
An awkward silence stretched between them. No one spoke, but she could feel every eye on her. It made her want to find the nearest quicksand pit and shove her head into it. The worst part of this wouldn’t be the rumor mill that spun out new stories every week. It would be the truth that would follow her the rest of her life.
She kissed Unsuur, or more accurately, she accosted him in some strange display for Pablo’s sick entertainment.
Pablo look like he’d hit the fucking jackpot with this. The gossip would keep the folks around her entertained for weeks. She could already imagine all the talk.
‘Bout time that girl set down some roots.
Finally! It only took her a year.
Why’d she pick Unsuur , of all people?
It was too much for her brain to process right now. She needed to get out of there before she did anything else she might regret.
“Sorry.” She straightened the collar of his coat for him and went to smooth the front of his jacket, then realized that would only make things worse. Her hand fell limp at her side. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, fuck , was he even breathing? She made the poor man malfunction like a furnace on a hot summer day.
This would have never happened if Heidi was here.
But Heidi wasn’t here.
And Robbie had no one to blame but herself.
“I should, ya know, really get going.” She stumbled past him and toward the door. No one stopped her—thank the Light—she wasn’t in the state of mind to try and explain herself. Her vision bowed around the edges as she fought with the door handle. She finally wrenched the door open and nearly tripped in her efforts to put as much distance between her and this whole situation.
This hangover would be killer, but sadly, not enough to actually kill her.
She would never be able to look Unsuur in the eye again.