Carpentry and Cocktails: A Heartfelt Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 5)

by Smartypants Romance

  “What’s going on?” Clara asked as she sidled up to the bar and took a seat. She was breathless from dancing and followed closely behind by an equally breathless Garrett. I shot him a look, but he just grinned at me and sat next to Clara.

  “Patty made a mistake is all,” Willa insisted, thrusting her cash filled hand toward Patty.

  Patty sighed and held her hands up, refusing to take the money. “I can add and subtract just fine, Willa Faye.”

  Willa turned to Genie. “Aunt Genie?”

  “Attorneys are expensive,” Genie replied. “If Patty wants to share her tips with you, I’m not gonna stop her.” Her face softened. “We heard you on the phone, honey—making arrangements to pay her. There is nothing wrong with needing a little help now and then. Family helps family and you needed to be rid of that jackass you married. We’ll help when we can.” Genie’s soft look turned pointed as she laid it out for Willa.

  Willa’s eyes shot to me, then quickly away. Her gaze bounced back to Patty. “I can’t take your money. You need it too.”

  “Oh, Willa. Not as much as you do right now.” She took the money from Willa, folded the bills in half and tucked it into Willa’s apron pocket. “I know you’d have my back if I needed it. Right?”

  “Yeah…” Willa whispered and looked away. The hit to her pride was obvious as her red face turned toward the floor. “But I won’t take your money,” she insisted.

  “Well, too bad. I’m not taking it back.” Patty turned and stomped off, dodging dancers across the floor until she was gone.

  “You need help, Willa?” Clara asked, voice full of sympathy. I kept my face turned away from Willa. It was clear she was embarrassed, and I didn’t want to add to it. But it wouldn’t stop me from listening to every word and figuring out a way to help her.

  “Thank you, Clara. But no. I don’t need any help. I’ll be just fine. Aunt Genie, I’m going to head in the back real quick and put the extra money in your office. Will you give it to Patty for me?”

  Genie rolled her eyes with an impatient look. “Yes, you stubborn thing. I’ll see she gets it.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered and slunk through the swinging doors to the back.

  “That girl—always was hard-headed.” Genie muttered before heading off down the bar.

  Everything I’d learned about Willa since meeting her told me she was obstinate. Or maybe she was just determined to be on her own after her divorce. Either way, she would not accept help from me. I already knew her enough to know better than to offer it flat out. I’d talk to Wyatt. He knew the details about her ex-husband, and it was time I did too. “Y’all, I’m calling it a night.” I announced. Garrett lifted his chin in response.

  “Leaving so soon? Want me to tell Willa goodbye for you?” Clara smirked.

  “Yeah, thanks, Clara.” I left. I had to get to the Piggly Wiggly before it closed for the night.

  Chapter Five

  Willa

  “I can’t stand it when other men look at you. You’re only for my eyes to see, my beautiful Willa. No more dancing.”

  Tommy

  I blinked up at the ceiling and sighed as memories from the night before brought a reluctant smile to my face. Everett could dance, and he didn’t ruin the fun by getting jealous. Not that I was his, or he was mine. We weren’t together—yet.

  Gah! There couldn’t be a yet. No yet allowed.

  But Everett was so sweet and fun and didn’t wreck everything by stopping to glare threats at other men. Everett didn’t seem to have the urge to mark me like territory the way Tommy always had. I shoved the unpleasant memories of my ex out of my mind. Thoughts of Tommy didn’t belong in my new life—he had no place with me in Green Valley. I’d fought hard in the two years since we’d split to move on from him.

  I flipped to my stomach and pulled the covers over my head. I needed more sleep. Waking up still tired sucked but waking up hungry was worse. My attorney was sucking up all my leftover cash, obliterating my food budget. I couldn’t quit paying her. I owed my freedom to her. She worked tirelessly to get my divorce finalized; to set me free. But I also could not subsist on Everett’s doughnuts and a cup of coffee for an entire day. My stomach growled loudly, vibrating the mattress beneath me. I hated mooching off Everett, but I was constantly hangry and in danger of losing my temper over every little thing. I mean, I ran out of ramen two days ago and could actually picture myself stabbing someone for a cracker crumb.

  I was so hungry that my apprehension over visiting my mother had been shoved to the backburner at the thought of one of her home cooked meals. As a result, last night, I had let my sisters convince me to head up to my mother’s house for dinner this evening. I wasn’t even that nervous about it anymore. All I could think about was her Sunday pot roast. Please let it be pot roast. And please don’t let her interrogate me about Tommy. I dreaded talking about my divorce and hearing how right she was about him. Yeah, so I’d made the biggest mistake of my life by running away with him. I didn’t need that fact shoved in my face. The only thing I wanted to shove in my face was a huge plate of food. The very thought of it kept me hanging on. I stared longingly at my phone but resisted the urge to text one of my sisters and cancel our family dinner/reunion tonight. No more waffling. I had to get it over with and face my mother. Samantha Wilson-Hill was as tough as nails, mean as a snake, believed in absolute freedom, and would reem me out seven ways to Sunday the split second I stepped foot into her house.

  Heaving out a sigh, I got out of bed. I’d showered when I’d gotten home so all I needed to do was start a load of laundry and sneak upstairs to steal a doughnut. So far Everett hadn’t let me down with the sweet treats from Daisy’s. Hopefully today would not be the exception—my stomach was about to eat itself. “Shut up,” I whispered as it growled again.

  I grabbed my basket and headed out my back door, which led to the laundry room in the part of the basement I shared with Everett. When the door hit the doorstop, he jumped and spun around. My lips shifted to the side as his booming laughter filled the room. I had startled him. Once more thoughts of my ex filled my mind; where Everett laughed, Tommy would have been angry. I sighed. Everett was standing at the long table in the middle of the space folding his clothes. Slamming my eyes shut, I clutched the basket to my chest. He was wearing a huge smile and nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. I had caught a glimpse of his ass in those pants before he turned around and the sight made my mouth water. I wanted to take a bite out of it. I wanted to pet it, maybe cuddle up with it, and become best friends with it. I groaned, then covered the sound with a cough.

  “Wilhelmina! You startled me.” He chuckled. “I’m almost done with these clothes, and you’re just in time for breakfast. I have pancake batter mixed and bacon ready to go into the oven. Scrambled or over-easy?”

  “All your shirts were dirty?” I smirked, avoiding his tempting breakfast question. There was no way I could run off with a plate of food like he was offering. I would have to sit and eat with him. That was dangerous—to his bitable ass, as well as to my heart. My heart that filled with the realization that he’d most likely overheard Patty trying to give me her tips. He was cooking a pity breakfast. Yeah, no thank you.

  He winked and slipped a shirt over his head. “Better?” he asked.

  His biceps strained the limits of his T-shirt sleeves and my eyeballs were about to pop out of their sockets like one of those old pervy cartoon characters. “I guess so. I can’t eat breakfast with you. I have things to do.” My stomach protested—loudly. I puffed out a breath, blew an errant curl out of my eye, twisted my lips, and studied the ceiling.

  “Your stomach doesn’t seem to agree with you.” With a shake of his head, he asked again, “Scrambled or over-easy? I’m headed up, so start your laundry and join me. Coffee is ready. I can’t drink a whole pot by myself, Silly Willy.” He touched my nose with his index finger, grabbed his basket of laundry and headed upstairs leaving me no opportunity to start an argument.


  “Over-easy!” I shouted at his retreating back. “Thanks. Uh, I’ll do the dishes.”

  With my stomach growling and my mouth watering, I started my clothes. In too much of a rush to sort them, I stuffed them in the washer and hit start. Not that I sorted much anyway. Almost everything I owned was black.

  I trudged up the stairs, fully conscious of the fact that my hair was a wild mess and I was still wearing just black sleep shorts and a matching tank, no bra. I wasn’t too worried. I didn’t have much up top to ogle. I had been tempted to throw a party when I filled out a B cup back in my junior year. Why was I thinking about my boobs?

  After climbing the wooden basement stairs, I shoved open the heavy door that led to the kitchen. My embarrassment over Everett’s pity breakfast vanished as the delicious smells of bacon and coffee washed over me like a freaking benediction. This breakfast was about to become a religious experience. My stomach was singing the “Hallelujah” chorus, and I was about to sink to my knees in gratitude. My mouth watered. Drooling was a real concern. With a swipe of my hand I checked. No drool—yet.

  “You’re just in time, Willard.” Everett was at the stove. His booty in those gray sweats plus those big arms in that T-shirt, that gorgeous bearded face and his tousled-up bed-head—all of it battled for my attention. My lack of sleep, lack of food, and overall sense of exhaustion had eliminated my self-preservation instincts. Everett was a hot piece of ass and I wanted to tap it, hard. I swear right now, if he was sweet to me, I would throw my shirt at him.

  He gestured to the barstool on the other side of the counter where I stood, then turned to the island in the middle of the kitchen to grab a plate of cut up fruit. My mouth’s waterworks started again in earnest when he set it on the bar. I popped a grape into my mouth and admired Everett’s dishes. They were a manly, dark gray pottery style, heavy and shiny with a black edge. The bar top was ready for breakfast. The cutlery was in perfect restaurant order beside the plates and rolled up napkins were centered in in the middle of each one, complete with napkin rings—was that the Millennium Falcon on the napkin rings? I picked one up and grinned. It was! Holy heckarino, he was the cutest.

  “Can I help?” I asked as I eyed the goodness he was cooking up.

  “No worries, I’ve got it all under control. It’s early for you. Couldn’t sleep?” he asked. The smile in his voice forced me to smile back at him.

  I plopped into the stool and put my head on my hand as I rested my arm on the countertop. “I never sleep well anymore,” I muttered as the smile left my face and I looked out the window.

  “Want to talk about it?” He slid me a mug full of coffee, a spoon, and my favorite hazelnut creamer. His expression was full of sympathy. I had the feeling he would probably understand if I dumped my troubles on him—he seemed like the type—but I had a bit of a crush on him and I didn’t want him to think less of me once he found out I’d married a dirt-bag, controlling asshole at age seventeen and was in debt up to my eyeballs to my attorney from the divorce.

  Heaving out a sigh, I poured creamer in my coffee and swirled it around with my spoon. The cream dissipated into the coffee like so many clouds. I wished it were that easy to lose my problems. “Nah, I don’t want to dump on you, Everett. You’ll get sick of it and have to find a new tenant.”

  After flipping a pancake, he turned away from the stove to study my face. “Never, Willard. I’m used to your grumpy ass. I’d miss you.” He gifted me with another wink, and I shivered under his hot gaze before he turned around to slide the pancakes onto a platter. He had enough food to feed a family of four over there.

  “You like to cook?” I asked. I glanced at my mug, adorned with Princess Leia and her famous “I love you” quote, from The Empire Strikes Back. I grinned and took another sip of coffee as I searched the counter for Everett’s mug. There it was, featuring Han Solo and his famous reply, “I know”. Could he be any cuter? Not even if he tried. Damn.

  “I love cooking. I hardly ever have anyone to cook for though. Thank you for coming over.” He placed the pancakes on the island, turned, then bent to open the oven—that ass! Gah!

  Between the smell of the bacon that wafted from the open oven and the sight of Everett’s ass as he bent over to retrieve it, I was about to orgasm right here on this barstool. I shut my eyes and gulped my coffee in an effort to regain control. I opened my eyes only to watch as he poured the fat from the bacon filled baking sheet into a frying pan, then cracked four eggs right into it. I swear I fell in love. All pretense of cool control vanished as my stomach growled, I squirmed in my seat, and allowed myself to avidly watch him cook the rest of our breakfast like a teenage boy watching a dirty movie. Holy shit—eggs fried in bacon fat? Everett was a god in the kitchen. I wondered how he was in the bedroom. Food and sex were my two favorite things in the world, and I had been without both for way too long.

  “Are you ready to eat?” he asked. His deep voice poured over me like honey, and I wanted him to lick it off.

  Heck yes, I’m ready to eat. Let’s go upstairs to your bedroom and I’ll eat whatever you put into my mouth—

  “Uh…yeah. I’m ready. Everything looks great.” That’s what I actually said, thankfully. I picked up my napkin and fanned my face with it. Holy potatoes, I was about to make an ass of myself all over his ass.

  My eyes got big on the bar in front of me as he placed the bacon, pancakes, syrup, and other breakfast necessities down. With a twist to the side that did delicious things to his muscles, he grabbed the frying pan and served two eggs to each of our plates before placing the pan in the deep double sink.

  As I looked at the food I wanted to cry. How had I let this happen to my life? After my divorce I had spent two years driving aimlessly all over the country, living off my savings and my portion of the money from selling our house in Nashville and working short stints in bars here and there. I came home to Green Valley and my Aunt Genie had graciously hired me, but I had been living in my camper van at the Merryville Walmart parking lot as I searched for an apartment, for crap’s sake. Then I had spent a few weeks parked near the barn at my best friend Sabrina’s ranch. And it didn’t get better from there; it got worse. I didn’t have enough money for food, and I would barely make rent this month. I couldn’t go on this way—this would have to be my last month here. Maybe I could park at Sabrina’s again. The humiliation would never end. I couldn’t see a way out. I sipped my coffee. Despite my hunger, my appetite had disappeared.

  “Dig in.” Everett stepped around the bar and sat next to me—close. He smelled like clean laundry and coffee. The feeling that he was everything I needed and would never deserve washed over me along with the ever-present melancholy I had managed to kick away for a few minutes when I was too busy lusting over him and sniffing the bacon to pay attention to it.

  “Sure. It looks delicious, Everett,” I murmured and helped myself to a pancake.

  He raised an eyebrow and flopped a second pancake onto my plate. “You’re too skinny. You need to eat.” He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Oh man, I sounded just like my mother.”

  I cracked a grin and reached for the syrup. “If I were my mother right now, I’d be asking you if this were organically grown whole grain you used in your pancakes and if the answer was yes, I’d demand to know if it was locally sourced. Not to mention the fact that I would have to refuse to eat the bacon. And are those eggs from free range chickens?” I snagged a piece of bacon and folded the whole thing into my mouth with a grin.

  His eyes got huge in mock horror. “She sounds fun.” He took a huge bite of pancake with a twinkly, crinkle-cornered eye smile.

  “I’m supposed to drive up and see her tonight. Dinner with the family.” I sighed and dipped a bite of pancake into the perfectly-runny egg yolk. With every bite I took, my apprehension about seeing my family came back.

  “You’ll be okay. Get it over with quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid.”

  “Oh, it won’t go quick. I’ve been back in town for months an
d haven’t gone up to see her yet. My sisters weren’t at Genie’s last night solely for shits and giggles; they were her messengers. My mother is gonna have a fit and there is nothing I can do but take it. I mean, I deserve it, don’t I?”

  His eyes softened on me over the rim of his mug. He set it on the bar and studied me with a thoughtful expression. “I don’t know. Something besides your ex made you run away all those years ago, right? Maybe she deserves some of the blame. And for the sake of full disclosure, I knew Tommy back in high school. He was on the Merryville High basketball team and we used to play against each other. Merryville and Green Valley are huge rivals. I didn’t like him back then, and based on the little I’ve heard from Wyatt, I don’t like him now.”

  It was slightly disconcerting that Everett seemed to know my story. Or some of it, at least. I guess I couldn’t affect an air of mystery when it came to him. Of course, I was fooling myself to think that in a town like Green Valley I could keep anything a secret in the first place. No matter how low a profile I tried to keep, people were slowly realizing I was back—hence the visit from my sisters at my mother’s demand. I grimaced at the thought of Wyatt filling Everett in on everything that happened in Nashville. “There was a lot I didn’t know about Tommy when we were together. Uh, a lot of stuff came up as the years went by and I—”

  Everett shook his head. “He hid himself from you. I can totally see him doing shit like that. He was always kind of a bully.”

  Bully—yeah, that fit Tommy. With a noncommittal shrug, I shoved another piece of bacon in my mouth, wishing he would drop the subject. I was beginning to care way too much what Everett thought of me. The idea of him losing interest once he found out about my sordid, teen-runaway past was heartbreaking no matter how determined I was to keep him out of my heart. And if he ever found out what happened on the day I left Tommy? It would all be over. Wyatt had promised it would stay between the two of us. But where did brotherly loyalty fit into that promise?