“Where is Beth Grable?” I leaned on the counter. A whiff of his salty scent tickled my nose.
“I’m managing the shop for the moment.” He massaged his pecs. Sand fell to the carpet. “I’m DeLaney. The brother.”<span class=”Apple-converted-space”> </span>
“DeLaney? She told me about you selling her rock collection she inherited from your uncle. She loved those rocks.”
“She never even looked at them.” DeLaney bit his lower lip.<span class=”Apple-converted-space”> </span>
“Not much into worrying about other’s personal space?”
“Beth had to see about hurricane shutters.” He shifted.
“Well, that is definitely important business.” I gave him a glance-over and he sucked in his tight abs. “You’ll be glad you waited. I’ve got this season’s designs, hot off the press. Key West themed sailboats and tortoises. It’s a staple for every party.”
“We’ve already got some.” DeLaney turned to dig through a drawer, knocking wires and adaptors to the floor.