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Wavering Convictions

Page 11

by Erin Dutton


  Suddenly, she didn’t think she could fake her way through a family dinner. She could see the conversation exploding with her disdain for Carey’s actions and Shirley’s denial about the severity of his issues. While she thought he deserved to deal with that turmoil, maybe his first night out of rehab wasn’t the time to test his recovery.

  “Hey, Ma. I just remembered I promised Kathi I’d watch the kids tonight.” Shirley didn’t like Kathi and Dani and would never check her story. She’d convinced herself that Ally’s sexuality was a phase, brought on by Kathi’s influence, which was just another layer of her denial since she knew Kathi wasn’t even the first woman Ally had dated.

  “Surely that can wait until after dinner.”

  “Nah. They want to have a date night. So I have to give the kids dinner.”

  Shirley screwed up her face in annoyance, and Ally decided to ignore the trace of disgust in it as well.

  “It’s my first night back,” Carey said.

  “Sorry, man. I’ll stop by later this week.” She left, feeling a bit like a coward for fabricating a reason to leave. Maybe she would drop in on Kathi and Dani on her way home, so her story wouldn’t be a total lie.

  * * *

  Monday, Ally finalized plans for her next project. She’d scrapped the buffet-server idea. Such a large piece might be harder to sell. She’d been thinking about booking a booth at a big flea market coming up, but several smaller items would be easier to transport, as well as not being so cumbersome for potential buyers to take home.

  She had some reclaimed barn wood left that she’d been hoarding in the garage that would make a great top for a coffee table. She’d sketched out an idea for two slabs made up of barn wood separated by four thick, turned pedestals, one at each corner. A soft-gray wash would showcase the grain, and grays were so in fashion right now.

  After spending the morning on the plans and prepping the barn wood, she took a break for lunch. She sat at her kitchen table with a can of Diet Coke and her chicken salad on toast and scrolled through Twitter. Part of the reason she’d wanted to take a break from construction was to have some flexibility in her schedule. But if she was serious about making a business of furniture making, she’d have to build some structure into the days she worked. So she granted herself a proper lunch break, without feeling guilty about the work waiting in the garage. But she did post a couple of pictures of the coffee table in progress on her own Twitter. She had a number of followers who’d purchased from her before, and she never knew when a piece would find a home before she’d finished it.

  Working had distracted her from thinking about anything else. She’d lost herself in imagining a rustic-chic living room where her coffee table could be both a complement and a conversation piece. She would give it enough weight to pair with either a larger couch and love seat, or a slimmer, modern sofa and patterned chair.

  She’d planned to start by assembling the top, but after lunch, she changed gears. The shape of the pedestals had crystallized, and she wanted to get at least one completed while the image was clear. She hefted a large blank into the lathe, then donned safety glasses and a dust mask. With a pencil, she scratched a few landmarks. The dimensions on the first piece didn’t need to be precise. But it would be the blueprint for the remaining three pedestals, so she’d have to duplicate them exactly on each piece.

  For the next several hours, she carved the basic shape with a roughing gouge. Then, switching between several tools, she refined the large swell that would pull the weight toward the lower half of the spindle. She squared off a couple of inches on either end, creating angles that would bracket all the smooth, rounded shapes.

  By the time Maggie pulled her Prius into the driveway, Ally’s arm and shoulder muscles had tightened to the verge of cramping. Shaking out her arms, wrists, and fingers, she walked to the front of the garage, near the open overhead door.

  Maggie climbed out of the car and retrieved a backpack from the back seat. She still wore her work clothes, classy and professional, much like that first day they’d met at the courthouse. Today, she had on a beige jacket, periwinkle skirt, and nude flats. Her legs were bare, no hose, and so smooth Ally had to force herself to look away.

  “I came straight from work. I hope you don’t mind if I change here.”

  “Of course not. You didn’t even get the tour of the inside last time. Come on through here.” Ally led her in the door connecting the garage to the house.

  They entered through the kitchen, which opened only to the eat-in area. She’d painted the cabinets white to brighten up the smallish space. She’d also updated the countertops but hadn’t done any more work in the kitchen. Eventually, she’d make it back in there to do a backsplash and update the light fixtures. She’d done enough work to clean it up, but the kitchen didn’t inspire her in the least.

  “This is nice,” Maggie said.

  As they passed into the living room, Ally saw Maggie eyeing the wall on the other side of the kitchen.

  “I know. Most people would knock out that wall, open it up. That’s the trend in these older houses.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  Ally shrugged. “When I cook, I prefer simple meals. I don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen. I plan to live here for quite a while, so I made choices based on what works for me, not what sells houses. I can always change my mind and lose the wall later.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “I restored all the hardwoods, but the living room only got paint.”

  Down the hallway, she indicated the guest bathroom. Maggie set her backpack on the floor inside the door. But instead of going in, she turned to Ally.

  “You said you started in the master.”

  Ally nodded.

  “Can I see it?”

  Ally smiled. “A beautiful woman just asked me to take her to my bedroom. Why would I refuse that request?”

  Maggie’s blush paired with a sexy wink made an interesting combination. Ally enjoyed a glimpse of Maggie’s confidence. She tilted her head to indicate Maggie should follow her.

  “Oh, Ally, this is gorgeous,” Maggie said as they entered the bedroom.

  When Maggie continued through to the bathroom, Ally stayed in the bedroom, giving her space to explore.

  Maggie poked her head back out the bathroom doorway. “You weren’t kidding. This is definitely a sanctuary.”

  She’d eliminated the third bedroom, previously next to the master, then split the space. Half the area made up the new master bathroom, and the rest of it, she’d framed into a walk-in closet, both of which had been lacking in the original 1960s floor plan. She knew the risk of making the home a two-bedroom. But she needed only one guest room. And she had space in the backyard for an addition if she decided to add another bedroom.

  “I don’t know much about renovation, but it seems very well done.” Maggie wandered back into the bedroom, tracing her hand over the woodwork on the door casing.

  “Thank you.” Ally had cleaned up and painted the original moldings. But her attention now was on Maggie’s fingertips tripping over the ridges of the wood. Ally, unable to resist her desire to be closer to Maggie, moved farther into the room. “These rooms are finished, but the rest of the house is kind of in limbo while I focus on the furniture business.” She rubbed her hand over the same stretch of woodwork, inches below Maggie’s.

  “That seems fair. You have only so many hours in your day.”

  Ally flicked her gaze down to Maggie’s mouth, where she’d sucked her lower lip in slightly. Was that a nervous gesture? Was she also wondering what their kiss might taste like? Why were they talking about inane things like furniture and home improvement when there was a bed just a few feet away? She searched Maggie’s eyes for an answer to at least one of those questions. Maggie’s brown eyes were lighter than Ally’s. Up close, they reminded her of a warm pecan wood stain.

  “I should change my clothes so I can get to work.”

  “Okay.” Ally blinked and
held Maggie’s gaze a moment longer. Then, reluctantly, she stepped aside.

  Chapter Ten

  Maggie closed the guest bathroom door behind her and leaned against it, the back of her head thudding lightly against the wood. What the hell was she doing here? She’d just stood in Ally’s bedroom ready to forget who she was—and who she was related to—and just kiss her. Luckily, she’d escaped that moment, but somehow she knew it wouldn’t be their last.

  Thus far, Ally had offered her friendship and an escape from the ever-present fear that had taken up residence in the back of her mind. She didn’t want to give that up if she didn’t have to. But she wasn’t in the habit of fooling herself about reality. This friendship had to be temporary. In a few months, when her court case and Ally’s family obligations complicated things, they could go their separate ways with some good memories.

  She pressed her hand against the ache in her chest at the thought of cutting Ally loose. But she couldn’t see how they would navigate anything more permanent. She didn’t even know if Ally was interested in friendship under those terms. Maybe she’d keep this plan to herself. She’d be the best friend she could be to Ally until the criminal trial began. Ally would likely be distracted by her and her mother’s concern for her brother while Maggie eased away from her.

  She changed into appropriate clothes for getting dirty, then folded her work clothes and stowed them in her backpack. She returned to the living room, but it was empty. She followed the sounds she heard from the kitchen.

  Ally had just opened the refrigerator and looked over her shoulder. “I’d offer you some wine, but I’m not sure I’m up for another marathon phone call after you leave here.”

  “Very funny.”

  Ally smiled and held out a bottle of white wine in invitation.

  “One small glass. I’m driving later.”

  Ally grabbed two stemless glasses and poured them each a conservative amount. She handed one to Maggie, then rested her butt against the counter. Her faded jeans looked soft from many washings, and a few small holes had frayed threads around the edges. She tucked in her navy-blue flannel shirt. Did she do that to contain the loose hem while working around power tools? Or did she simply prefer to wear it that way? And why did seeing Ally in work clothes entice Maggie so much? She wanted to pull the shirt free, unbutton it, and find out if it looked as good hanging open to reveal her chest and stomach.

  Maggie grappled for something interesting to say that didn’t include an inquiry about Ally’s fashion choices. But what came out was, “The weather’s warming up.”

  “No kidding. Too much warmer and the garage will get stuffy. I’ll have to break out the industrial fan soon.”

  “I love summer.”

  “Said the woman who works in an air-conditioned office.”

  Maggie smiled. “You have a point. I have to be in the heat only when I want to. Summer afternoons in the sun by my friend Inga’s pool are heavenly. So, then, what is your favorite season?”

  “Fall. I’m a big fan of cool, crisp days and those nights when you need a hoodie or a sweater to ward off the chill.”

  “Honestly, there’s something to love about every season, isn’t there?”

  “No.”

  “What about spring? Everything smells new and fresh. Then the flowers start to bloom.”

  “My allergies act up from the pollen I’m breathing in all day out there.” Ally exaggerated a scowl. “And summer in Tennessee is like being in a sauna every day.”

  “We covered summer already.”

  “I agree that autumn is glorious. But I challenge you to find something nice to say about winter.”

  “Christmas.”

  “That’s only December. And winter’s not even really here yet then. I’m talking about January and February, when it’s just cold and dreary and incredibly unpredictable for construction.”

  “Snow.” Maggie grinned as if she’d just provided the key to enjoying winter.

  “We get snow maybe one weekend a year, unless you’re counting the random ice and freezing rain. Which I don’t, by the way.”

  “Wow. You really don’t enjoy the weather here.”

  Ally laughed. “I mostly just endure it.”

  “If you could move anywhere else, where would you go?”

  “If I didn’t have to work outside, I’d like to try a desert climate.”

  “Put an air-conditioned shop on the list when you open your own furniture business.” Maggie moved to the sink and rinsed out her wineglass. “Is it your family that keeps you here?”

  Ally shrugged. “I grew up here. It’s what I know.”

  Maggie glanced at the dining room and archway to the living room beyond. She could easily settle on the sofa and chat with Ally for the rest of the night. But she’d come here to accomplish something, and so far she’d made zero progress. “I should get to work outside.”

  “Right.” Ally started as if she, too, had forgotten everything but their conversation. “And I promised you dinner. I haven’t shopped for groceries in a while, so I’ll order some takeout. Any preferences?”

  “You really don’t have to do that. I can get something on my way home later.”

  “I want to.” Ally stepped closer, and Maggie backed up, retreating into the corner by the fridge.

  Ally leaned in and Maggie froze, having no further escape. Ally’s gaze flickered to Maggie’s mouth before coming back up to meet her eyes. The curl of arousal she’d felt in the bathroom earlier echoed within her. She’d been the one to break the spell earlier. But she didn’t think she could do it again. What would happen if she didn’t? She glanced down. Scant inches separated their bodies. She wanted to move into Ally, feel their chests pressed together, Ally’s arms around her.

  Ally reached an arm out, and Maggie anticipated the embrace and, hopefully, a kiss. She wanted it, no matter the consequences. At the crinkle of paper, she turned her head to identify the sound. Ally had pulled a flyer from under a magnet on the side of the fridge.

  “I was just getting this menu.” Ally thrust the folded paper into the space between them.

  Maggie’s face flamed with embarrassment. “I thought you were about to—”

  “I mean, I would—but I wasn’t sure if you wanted—”

  Maggie grasped Ally’s face and pulled her close, burying the rest of her words against her lips. Ally’s hesitation lasted only a second before she responded, though seemingly content to let Maggie lead. Maggie caressed Ally’s lower lip fleetingly with her tongue, not deepening their kiss. She tasted the crisp, tart flavor of their wine. When she eased back, her head swam, and if Ally’s hazy look was an indication, hers did as well.

  Ally recovered before Maggie did. She held up the crumpled brochure. “The Chinese place that delivers here has great egg rolls.”

  “I’m sorry I crushed your menu.”

  “It was totally worth it.”

  “In that case…” She drew Ally back to her, seeking another kiss. This time, Ally took over, controlling the pressure and intensity. She slipped her fingers into Maggie’s hair, and the gentle rake of her blunt fingernails made Maggie shiver with anticipation. Seduced, she lost herself in the taste and texture of Ally’s mouth. The fever of the kiss tapered off as they drew apart again. Ally ended the kiss with a tender touch of her lips.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” Ally grinned. “I knew you’d be good at that. But I had no idea.”

  “You did?”

  “Sure. You have a vibe like you know what you’re doing around women.”

  Maggie chuckled. “Well, once upon a time anyway.” Before her confidence about everything had been shaken.

  Concern shaded Ally’s expression. “Are you okay?”

  Maggie nodded. She wasn’t, in some ways. But with the high from their kiss still humming through her, she was so much more than okay in others.

  “Do we need to talk about the kissing?”

  “Can we not?”

  �
��That depends. Are you going to leave?” Ally bracketed Maggie’s hips loosely with her hands, not restraining her, but letting her know what she wanted Maggie’s answer to be.

  Maggie glanced out the window at the backyard. “No. But I’d like to go do some work in the dirt. Clear my mind.”

  Ally nodded agreeably, but a trace of disappointment colored her expression. “Sure. I’ll call in the dinner order.”

  “Thank you.” Maggie stroked Ally’s jaw, then eased out of Ally’s arms before she could change her mind.

  * * *

  Ally tried not to be offended that Maggie needed to clear her mind of their first kiss. She felt just the opposite. She wanted to hold on to it, examine it, and figure out why it felt different than any other one.

  She placed the dinner order, then decided to spend the forty-five minutes until the food arrived working on her latest project.

  In the garage, she raised the overhead door and propped the door leading to the yard open in order to create a cross breeze. But she had to force herself to stay away from that back door. She didn’t want Maggie to catch her staring like some creepy stalker.

  While Maggie apparently was out there wiping her memory, Ally couldn’t think of anything but that kiss. She’d been aware of the change in the air between them, but she’d still been caught off guard when Maggie kissed her. Blissfully—amazingly—taken by surprise, she’d kept her head enough to let Maggie stay in control.

  Not trusting herself to use the lathe in her distracted state, she began choosing the boards she would use for the top of the coffee table. She laid them out on a large worktable in the center of the garage, checking them for warping. She swapped a couple, arranging them for the most interesting wood-grain pattern. She hadn’t completely decided if she would paint or stain this piece, so she proceeded as if the grain would be visible.

  Their food arrived, and she met the delivery guy in the driveway. She called out the back door for Maggie, then began setting out the various cartons, two plates, and some silverware on the kitchen counter. By the time she’d finished, Maggie had come inside and washed her hands.

 

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