by Jeannie Watt
“Own it,” she muttered.
Putting the matter in impersonal terms meant she didn’t have to think about the part she’d played in the Sean fiasco, and she needed to think about it, often, so that history didn’t repeat itself. So that she didn’t let herself be hoodwinked by love or lust or whatever it was that she’d felt for the man who had coaxed her into believing that she needed to embrace adventure and take risks. That she was young and worries about 401(k)s and the like could be pushed to the future. What good was security if you were slogging through the day?
The months she’d dated Sean in Portland had been heady, filled with a sense of finally finding what she’d lost after her mom had died. Her freewheeling impulsive side, which she’d tamped down as she’d dealt with grief and an overwhelming feeling of insecurity—insecurity she’d never once allowed Tess or Stevie to see—once again broke through.
Abuzz with energy and optimism and a false feeling of being able to write her own narrative, she’d followed Sean to Seattle where he’d landed a job with a premier mountaineering equipment company, telling herself that while she was making a poor financial decision, she’d make up for it by getting a better, higher-paying job.
But even as she’d embraced her new life, she’d couched the changes to her family in vague terms, telling them as little as possible. She was the big sister, after all. The role model. She didn’t want her little sisters taking these kinds of risks. Therefore, she rarely mentioned Sean, and when she did, it was as if he were an incidental part of her decision to move north. And, in the beginning, her new life in Seattle had felt satisfying in a soul-deep way. Like gulping in big breaths of fresh air while taking in the view after a long climb.
Three months later came the fall.
Felicity reached for her toothbrush as the familiar shaft of humiliation, blunted by time but still sharp enough to sting, shot through her. It had been on Valentine’s Day when her mountaineering adventurer explained that he was seeking new horizons, funded by his new company. This time she wasn’t invited along.
The moment when she’d realized the cost of compromising herself, of believing things she shouldn’t have, twisting the narrative because of love and sidestepping her own rules, was etched deeply in her memory. A teensy little voice had whispered, “I told you so,” as her insides froze.
Looking back, it might have been inevitable that Sean would leave her on Valentine’s Day; and if not then, on some other special occasion. He was a guy who liked to do dramatic and memorable things. She saw that now. Saw what she hadn’t allowed herself to see while she’d been wildly in love. Once she’d bent herself to fit into his life, his job was done and off he went to the next challenge, leaving her to deal with the aftermath. She was in a city she’d never planned to live in, two weeks into a job she wasn’t certain she’d like. And she was alone. Her job in Portland had been filled days after she’d left. It was impossible to return to a company that rarely had openings. She was officially in a mess of her own making.
And thoroughly grateful that her family didn’t know the whole truth, sparing her at least one humiliation…although in truth, it wasn’t the humiliation that bothered her in regard to her family—it was the prospect of causing them worry.
Bottom line: she’d abandoned everything to follow a man and gotten bit in the nether regions because of it.
Footnote: She would never do that again.
After days of raging at herself for being stupid, she’d decided enough was enough, engaged her backbone and began rebuilding—because that was what she did. She rebuilt and survived.
She’d immersed herself in her new job, focused on setting goals and achieving them, one by one, rebuilding her personal and professional self-confidence step by step. She refused to allow Sean to turn her into a hermit, so she dated if the opportunity arose, which it did, although honesty compelled her to admit that no one ever lit her fire the way Danny just had.
Fires burn out.
Felicity gave her reflection a sage nod. They did. Fires burned, then died.
She finished brushing her teeth and then reached for the headband to hold back her hair as she washed her face. She was making too much of this.
Danny was a smart guy, and he knew that she had a life in Seattle, just as he had a life here in Holly. There was a vibe between them, but they both knew nothing could come of it. They were better off as friends.
She spritzed cleanser into her palms and then rubbed them together. Things might feel a little different after the kiss, but those feelings would fade.
Yes.
Tomorrow things between her and Danny would ease back toward normal.
Chapter Eight
Trust Danny to shake up her life, and trust Tess to bring a dog to a spackling party.
But Neville, the terrier who’d brought Tess and her former crush Jason Regan together over Christmas, was utterly charming, so Felicity barely batted an eye when he pranced into the building ahead of Tess early Saturday morning, then rushed across the room to greet her.
“Couldn’t find a sitter?” she asked as she ruffled his coat and dodged doggie kisses.
“I’m dropping him at Dad’s later, but I thought the little guy might like to roam the school. He loves new places.”
“Just stay clear of the furnace room,” Danny said as he came up the stairs. Neville raced over to say hello.
“Is it dangerous?” Tess asked.
Danny shot Felicity a look that clearly said he’d assumed she’d shared the story with her sisters. She answered with a movement of her shoulder. Tess noted the wordless exchange, and added an odd look of her own, which Felicity pointedly ignored. Silent communication abounded, and she was in no mood for it. They had a job to do.
“Okay. Here’s the situation,” she said to her sisters like a coach lining out her squad for the next play. “There are a couple of thousand screw holes to patch.”
“We’ve done this before, Feliss,” Stevie said.
“A refresher never hurt anyone. And I know you guys work with gunky knives, because I’ve seen you. If the compound dries on the knife, clean it off.”
“Will do,” Tess said, leaning down to ruffle Neville’s ears.
“Here’s the important part,” Felicity said. “Perhaps you recall the mud flinging that has occurred at this stage on some of Dad’s other projects?”
“Vaguely,” Tess said as she stood.
“We were in high school,” Stevie pointed out. “It isn’t like—” Her words broke off as Tess flipped a little mud at her.
“Now that you’ve gotten that out of your system,” Felicity said calmly, “we have a tight deadline.”
“Right.” Stevie bent to her bucket, then made a flicking motion, and Felicity felt a tiny splat on her forearm.
“You are so lucky we’re on a tight deadline,” she said to her sister, speaking through her teeth.
“I know,” Stevie said with a laugh, picking up her bucket. “I’ll start upstairs.”
“Me, too,” Tess said. Neville sprang to his feet and headed to the wide staircase as if he understood every word.
“I should have made them keep the lids on the buckets until after I gave my totally unnecessary pep talk,” Felicity muttered to Danny, who’d barely spoken a word since arriving, but he was watching her, as if waiting for a signal as to how they would proceed. He knew her well enough to know that she had a battle plan where they were concerned.
“Why did you give it if it was unnecessary?” he asked.
“It’s my role as older bossy sister. I needed to make certain we were all on the same page.”
“Are we?”
Her gaze came up to his. He was not talking about spackling or mud flinging. “I guess that depends on the book,” she said coolly.
“Right.”
He crossed the room to collect his bucket and knives. “I’ll start applying the final coats in the far east office if you want to continue seaming in here.”
“
Sounds good.”
He left without another word, and even though Felicity told herself that she should feel relieved that he left so easily, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they still had more to say.
*
Do not push.
Timing was everything. Push Felix too soon, or too hard, and she became an immovable object. While Danny wanted to demand that she admit to being as affected by that mind-blowing kiss as he’d been, he did not. That would have been a stupid move with anyone, and particularly stupid with Felix. That said, her departure date was barreling toward them and he did not have a course of action, which killed him because it was unlikely that he’d ever have this much uninterrupted time with her again.
Time he was having a hard time utilizing because one did not push Felix.
Or did they?
He finished the seam and wiped the excess compound off his knife. On the other side of the wall Tess and Stevie chatted away. As near as he could tell, there’d been no mud-flinging, but the day was young. He moved to the next seam, scooting the almost empty compound bucket along the floor with the side of his boot until it was once again in position.
What was the worst that could happen if he gave Felix a nudge?
She might dig in her heels and became the immovable object, but what other choice did he have with their time together quickly evaporating?
At five o’clock, Felix’s sisters called it a day, Tess having duties at the animal shelter and Stevie having a food bank meeting.
“I haven’t seen much of you today,” Danny said to Felicity as the door shut behind Neville and her sisters.
“All part of my plan,” Felicity said.
“I figured.”
Felicity tapped the lid on the joint compound bucket, then stood, pressing a hand to her hip and stretching. “Not out of avoidance.”
“No,” he said solemnly. “I would never have taken it like that.”
She made a face at him and started sweeping up the residue left from sanding the seams between wallboards, focusing on the fine white powder with a touch more intensity than necessary. “It was just a kiss, Danny. A really good kiss, but not anything more.”
“Do you think we can go eight days without kissing again?”
“I made it through today.”
With six walls between them.
“Maybe this is more than a one-day thing,” he said.
Her jaw muscles tightened as her gaze snapped up to his. “What exactly are you saying, Danny?”
“That if we came at this with open minds, I think we could…” His words trailed off as he waited for her to get his drift.
Felicity’s eyes grew wide as she pointed a finger first at herself, then at him. “You don’t mean…” Her eyes went wide and then she put a hand over her mouth to smother a laugh. “I walked right into that one.”
“I’m serious.”
The smile faded from her eyes, which narrowed as she studied him for a long moment. “You are,” she said slowly.
And now that he’d given her something to think about, he was leaving before she dug in her heels or fought back. He hoped to demolish the rest of the framing in his warehouse that evening. Some hardcore bashing would feel good after a day of thinking about Felix while carefully feathering a second coat of compound over the joint seams that Tess and Stevie had sanded.
“I’m not falling for you, Danny.” She called the words as he reached the door, a note of challenge in her voice. “It wouldn’t work,” she asserted.
He stopped and turned back, even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. “What if it does?”
“No offense, but it won’t.”
Danny nodded, knowing better than to voice the “We’ll see.”
They would see, but there was no sense in drawing battle lines now.
*
Let him go, let him go, let him go.
Felicity dropped the broom and headed to the door, stepping out into the frigid air. Danny was halfway down the stairs. In her post-Sean life, she refrained from mopping up unfinished business before she’d given the matter serious thought and decided on the most logical course of action. But this was Danny, and the normal rules did not apply.
He turned, making no pretense of not knowing why she was chasing him down, which gave her nothing to work with. She really needed him to make a quip.
No quip came forth.
She sucked in a breath of very cold air. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said, annoyed at the tactical error she’d just made by letting her emotions get the best of her.
“There’s more to say?”
“There’s always more to say, Danny.”
“Say it now.”
“I need to think.” She wasn’t about to make another tactical error.
He started back up the stairs toward her, and it was all she could do to stay rooted to the spot where she now stood, too stubborn not to continue the face-off. He stopped so close to her that the toes of their work boots almost touched. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze and instantly realized what a mistake that was, because there was no way she could look away from his intent gray gaze as he brought his hands up to frame her face.
He paused, clearly giving her time to step back, but Felicity held her ground, and when, an eternity later, his mouth found hers, she met the kiss full-on. Her fists clenched at her sides, because she was not going to cling to him, but she was going to kiss him.
Did that make her a winner or a loser, or simply a woman standing in the chilly February air, kissing the man who’d driven her crazy since she’d been a toddler?
“There’s something to think about,” he said after raising his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He started back down the stairs as Felicity fought to find her voice. By the time he reached the bottom step it was too late to save the situation, so she turned on her heel and marched back into the school, letting the door shut behind her.
Why did he have to be so good with his lips?
A tingly warmth swept through her body at the memory of the long, almost lazy kiss, followed by a conscious tightening of her jaw muscles. This was crazy.
Felicity picked up the broom and began sweeping again with a vengeance, raising a cloud of fine white dust. Not since Sean had she reacted to a man like this and look what that had led to.
But, while kissing Sean had been heady, kissing Danny was…well…his skills were definitely in a more elite league than Sean’s, and that was something worth getting nervous about.
So your next move will be…?
Felicity stopped sweeping and leaned her chin on her cupped hands atop the broom. She hadn’t a clue, even though she’d been in this situation before; a situation where she had to say no for logical reasons—temperament, distance, practicalities—when she really wanted to say yes. She’d given the wrong answer before. Saying yes had ended up being disastrous.
She didn’t want to go through anything like that again.
“Then say yes, for now,” her troublesome inner voice murmured.
Yes, for now?
Felicity cocked her head thoughtfully.
There was a concept.
She started sweeping again. Maybe that was all Danny wanted, too. Yes, for now. Again the sweeping stopped.
No. He’d spoken of giving things a chance, while she was all about enjoying the moment while it was upon them. And wouldn’t it be better, easier, to not add a new and potentially confusing facet to her life at this point in time?
Yes.
But—
Knock it off, she growled at her inner voice. It’s settled.
But it wasn’t, and she knew it.
*
Stevie’s and Tess’s cars were parked at the curb when Felicity pulled into her father’s driveway, emotionally drained after debating solutions to the Danny problem while she first swept, then drove home. Danny’s driveway was empty, and his house was dark, but she now knew where he was. Or assumed she knew. If he was
n’t at his warehouse, it was none of her business.
“Where is everyone?” Felicity called as she walked into an empty living room.
“I’m tired of that chair,” her dad called from the kitchen. “I’ve been getting around fairly good today. Getting back some of my stamina.”
“Don’t overdo it,” Felicity said as she came through the kitchen doorway.
“I’ve already been warned.” Pete gave Stevie and Tess a look. “That’s why I’m waiting until Monday to see the project. Bud’s bringing me,” he added.
“He’s renting a wheelchair,” Stevie said.
“I’ll do fine with crutches,” Pete shot back.
“I’m glad you’re coming. We’re on schedule thanks to Stevie and Tess.” Felicity headed for the fridge. “Is there any food left?”
“Spaghetti on the top shelf,” Stevie said.
Felicity microwaved a plate of spaghetti, then ate it while leaning against the counter as her sisters and dad finished their game of three-handed pinochle. After trouncing his offspring, Pete got out of his chair, balancing on his good leg while he got the crutches under his arms, and then announced that he was going to catch the day’s sporting recap.
Felicity put her plate aside to go with him and help him back into his chair, but Tess made a slicing movement across her neck and Stevie gave a quick shake of her head.
Independence. Right.
Felicity waited for the television to come on before taking a seat at the table with her sisters.
“I owe you,” she said as she took the glass of wine Stevie poured and then passed her way.
“It isn’t like we all don’t have a stake in this,” Tess said.
“We do,” Felicity agreed. “But you guys aren’t on vacation, like me.”
“Heck of a vacay,” Tess said.
“I’ll still have two weeks to use later this year,” she said. “I consider this time well spent.”
“As do we.” Stevie met Tess’s gaze and raised an eyebrow. Tess nodded.
“What?” Felicity asked.
“What’s the deal with you and Danny?” Stevie asked.
Felicity was glad she wasn’t still eating because she might have choked. “There’s no deal.” She’d taken pains to make sure that everything appeared normal between herself and Danny.
