“Most of the day, I’m sure.” She would not laugh. She would not...
“And then I thought to myself, who better to decompress with than you?”
She should get bonus points for not snorting in disbelief. “Yeah, sorry I didn’t text you back.” Her conversation with Jason about BethAnn’s change of plans had gone better than expected. With Jason at least. He’d had plenty of experience with temperamental clients and took the news in stride. “I needed to stick close to Abby to stop her from sending a pitchfork-wielding mob after BethAnn.”
“Didn’t appreciate her fiancé being slighted, did she?”
“She’s not the only one.” Lori resisted the urge to scrub her filthy hands on her jeans. “Look, Matt, I’d love to show you around, but I’m really a mess right now.” She swiped a hand over her forehead.
“You are?” He turned and looked at her, and to his credit, he wore the same interested, appraising expression he had during one of their so-called “dates.” “You look great. Friend to friend, of course,” he added with more emphasis than she thought was necessary. “You look happy.”
“Plants make me happy.”
“Then show me what you’ve been up to. Then we can have dinner and get going on those invitations BethAnn was on your case about.”
Lori’s brow tightened as she frowned. “How do you know I haven’t already...” She trailed off, unable to resist smiling at his skeptical eye roll. “Okay, so I’ve been putting it off.”
“I don’t blame you, but knowing you, you also planned on forgoing a good amount of sleep so you can get them done. Consider me your secret weapon. After I see inside. I’m going in.” He gripped either side of the door frame and leaned inside the dimly lit greenhouse. “You coming?”
She watched him disappear into her sanctuary. “Do I have a choice?” Muttering to herself, she followed. So be it. She was a hot, sweaty, grimy mess, but this was his choice. He’d have to take her as she was. Because that’s what friends did, she reminded herself even as she longed for a shower and a change of clothes. Why didn’t it bother her more that he knew her well enough to understand her aversion to the invitations?
It should irritate her. Instead, she was reminded of why she’d almost fallen for him in the first place. Because Matt Knight, despite his serious lapse in judgment where his marriage was concerned, really was a good guy.
“Is there anything you can’t grow?” Matt asked her when she joined him by the miniature roses she’d spliced in the hopes of crossbreeding. “This is amazing, Lori. Everything’s so alive. And that’s saying something because I’ve been known to kill cacti.”
“That’s probably because you just leave them on their own.” She retrieved a round red-tinted Hedgehog cactus from one of the wide window ledges and brought it over. “Most people think you can just set them somewhere and ignore them, give them a drink now and then. But they like attention. They like interaction. And if not the sound of someone’s voice, I’ve found music works. Just something that proves they’re alive. Add a few hours of sunshine and they’re good to go.”
Matt didn’t respond. It wasn’t until she set the plant in front of him that she lifted her chin and found him watching her.
“You could say the same about some people.”
“I suppose.” Her stomach flipped with familiar longing. She loved how he listened to her, as if what she said mattered to him. As if she mattered. But she’d let herself believe that before and it had all been a lie. “You can take this one home if you’d like. Give it a try. See if you can keep it alive.”
Matt didn’t look convinced. He reached a tentative hand toward the tiny pink flower that had bloomed at the top. “I’d hate to see anything happen to it.”
“If you see it going sideways, you can bring it back to me,” Lori said. “You can also take it to the station and put it on your desk. It would probably get a kick out of the conversations you all have there.”
“Well, it wouldn’t need much reminding its alive, that’s for sure. Okay.” He seemed to have convinced himself. “I’ll give it a shot. So what’s this you’re working on?” He strode around the African violets and pansies to her potting table. “Looks interesting.”
“It’s a fairy garden,” Lori explained. “For Charlie. I thought Paige and Fletcher have probably gotten a ton of wedding and housewarming gifts. Charlie should have something of her own, something for the new house. And she’s been asking me to teach her to garden.”
She’d had fun going through her yard, choosing various hearty herbs, succulents, and sturdy-stemmed flowers to incorporate amidst the small stone path, tiny wire garden gate and the toadstool-shaped plaster miniature house she’d found in her odds and ends. A few accented details, some thistle in the background for height and, as soon as Lori made a stop at the Wings & Things Gift Shop in town, she’d add a redheaded little fairy to the scene.
“She’ll love it.” Matt inclined his head. “I like how it sparkles, these glass stones you added.”
“They attract butterflies,” Lori explained. “Actually, I was thinking about a few different crafty things we could add to the front yards. We can hand out instructions or even maybe have a workshop at the community center if kids want to come make some. We can do butterfly feeders, butterfly baths, even dangle crystals from fishing...”
Matt stepped closer. So close. Too close. She pressed her lips closed, ducked her head as his hand brushed up her bare arm and made her shiver.
“I think that sounds like a good idea. The personal touch.” His voice caressed her, soothed her, even as his presence unsettled her. She could feel the warmth of his body against the cool night. But still she refused to look up, refused to see what she feared she’d find in those beautiful, vibrant brown eyes of his. “You’re always thinking, aren’t you?”
“Mmmm. Sure.” She shrugged. “There’s always something that needs doing. Always something that—” She didn’t get to finish the thought. Didn’t have the strength—or maybe the will—to move as his hand slid up to cup the side of her face.
Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought she heard thunder rumbling through the sky. Her skin tingled, her blood warming as if lightning had struck dead center of her chest. And then his lips were on hers. Gentle, tender, as if testing her resolve; testing her determination to keep him at arm’s length when all she wanted to do was wrap her own arms around him and never let go.
“I like how you’re always thinking,” he whispered and pressed his forehead against hers. “Smart girls are hot.”
Tears prickled the back of her eyes, tightened her throat. Why did he do this to her? Make her want the one thing she knew would only hurt her in the end? Why did he let her believe in something that could never be hers? “So are men in uniform,” she said before she could stop herself. “But you know what?” With more strength than she thought she possessed, she lifted her dirt-caked hands and planted them flat on his chest. She pushed herself away. “Friends don’t kiss friends like that.”
“No.” Matt caught one of her hands before she could pull free. “No, they don’t. But maybe I’m on my way to earning another chance at being something other than friends.”
She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to, but trust was the one thing she had in very short supply. It was on the tip of her tongue to utter her surrender, to throw caution aside, to unlock that part of her that only a few weeks before could have been his if only he hadn’t walked away from her. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not yet...
“I should finish Charlie’s present.” She watched as disappointment flashed across his face. Replaced almost instantly with a sad, understanding smile.
“How about I watch?”
“Quietly?”
“If you want.” He released her hand and walked around to claim the high stool in the corner. He perched there, leg stretched out, and settled in as she retrieved the last items f
or the fairy garden.
She wasn’t in the right mind frame for conversation, but as silence dropped around her she regretted the request. Matt watching her was almost as unnerving as Matt kissing her. Almost. She needed to gather her thoughts, steel her resolve and stop dwelling on the fact that a kiss from Matt Knight had done everything she’d ever dreamed it would do.
But it also broke her heart.
* * *
“I’M GOING TO run upstairs and take a quick shower,” Lori told Matt a little over an hour later when she led him inside her two-story cottage.
“Okay if I reheat dinner?” he asked her as she darted through the kitchen as if in a rush to get away from him.
“Um, sure. Yeah. What are we having?”
“Vegetarian lasagna, salad and...”
“Don’t say it.” Lori groaned even as her eyes brightened. “Jason’s famous garlic bread?”
“Don’t you know it. A little Abby bird might have told me it’s your favorite.”
“Yeah, well, that little Abby bird has a big beak. I’m going to gain five pounds just thinking about all that butter.” She pointed upstairs. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Make yourself at home. There’s beer in the fridge—wine, too. Or...whatever.”
“Works for me. Oh, well, hello there.” Matt looked down at the snow-white cat currently curling itself around his legs. “And what’s your name?”
“Winchester. Winnie for short,” Lori called from down the hall. “I have a slight obsession with this TV show about ghost-hunting brothers. Thought she was a he when he first found me, but the name had already taken.”
Matt set dinner on the marble countertop and bent down to pet Winnie. The cat’s purr was almost as loud as a car engine. “Are you starved for attention? Doesn’t she pet you?”
Winnie flopped over and stretched full out, exposing her stomach even as she aimed a demanding look at him.
“You’re easier than your master. Or do you run the house?” Matt did the cat’s bidding and scrubbed his hand over the soft fur until Winnie had had enough. She righted herself, blinked odd sky-blue eyes at him, and then toodled down the hall, tail high. “Guess that answers that question.”
He pulled the cardboard containers out of the bag and set them in the oven to warm, hunted through the cabinets for a serving bowl for the salad, plates, and whatnots. He forewent the beer and wine and settled for coffee, which he set to brewing in the pot by the sink. As he listened to the water rush through the pipes, he did as she requested and made himself at home, beginning with a quick scan of the project schedule and preliminary budget she’d printed out.
Thorough organized, and proof positive he was working with the right person, he set aside any qualms or uncertainties that they could effectively complete the project in their allotted time; provided they got as many volunteers as he anticipated.
He scribbled a few notes in the margins, added a few supplies and ideas she hadn’t included, nothing that would tip the budget or schedule too far, and turned to more pleasant matters and went exploring.
It hadn’t only been the greenhouse Matt was always curious about, but also Lori’s home itself. It was one of a half dozen homes donned storybook cottages, that with their colorful paint, oversize shutters and unique rooflines made him think of fairy tales and dollhouses.
He’d assumed, given their exteriors that the homes were minuscule on the inside, but this was actually quite spacious, with its updated kitchen, short hallways and high ceilings. Crown molding accented crisp walls in shades of white, grays and blues. He’d bet the hardwood floors were original, dating back to the houses’ construction in the early seventies. Once upon a time, these houses had been tourist attractions in their own right.
The corner shelving unit in the living room displayed a multitude of picture frames filled with smiling faces, most of whom he didn’t recognize. A middle-aged, rather stoic-looking couple standing stiffly side by side in a photograph Lori had all but angled out of sight. Her parents, he guessed as their conversation in the diner yesterday hit him full force. Even in the picture, he could see a lack of parental empathy or understanding.
As opposed to an oversize frame displaying an older man, balding, in jeans and a polo shirt in front of the greenhouse Matt had only just visited. Lori’s beloved grandfather no doubt. And then there was Fletcher. Her older brother, his coworker and friend. There was no mistaking that charmer as Fletch beamed into the camera in preselfie days. He must have been maybe sixteen, seventeen then? And Lori—who was tucked possessively and warmly under her big brother’s arm—would have been thirteen.
He found himself smiling at the thought of a teenage Lori, her round, friendly face open and shiny beneath long, sun-streaked hair. He’d suspected her weight issues went back a ways, and while she was heavy, there was beauty. Beauty that stole the breath from his chest. Beauty he was beginning to believe she didn’t realize she possessed.
He saw the weight, but it hadn’t taken him more than a few minutes after meeting her before her dress size didn’t matter; how could it when her heart was so big? He’d never met anyone so giving, so caring or so scared. Was it odd they’d never talked about her weight before yesterday? Had he been wrong to avoid the topic? And if he did bring it up, what did he say? Why was it even an issue? Except he could see it was. For her at least.
If it was important, surely she would have, wouldn’t she? She was amazing; everyone loved her, liked her. Respected her. And yet he’d watched her at breakfast, picking through that fruit salad with little to no interest; as if eating was something to be suffered through. As if she was ashamed.
The floorboards on the second floor creaked and he realized the water had stopped. He headed back to the kitchen, but detoured into the dining room, where, as expected, he found three boxes filled with invitations and envelopes. Three big boxes.
“What on earth?” Irritation shot through him. What was she thinking handling these all on her own? And what was with BethAnn that she’d just hoisted the job onto Lori’s already overburdened shoulders?
“Sorry it took so long.” Lori wicked her damp hair out of her eyes before she secured it with a clip on the top of her head. “I found mud in my hair, so, well... Ah. You found my project.”
“I found BethAnn’s project,” Matt said, and hoped he didn’t sound as snippy as he felt. “Let me guess. Stuffing the envelopes would damage her manicure?”
“You sound like Abby.” Lori laughed but it sounded forced to Matt. “It’ll be fine. I have time.”
“We have time. After dinner,” he added. “I told you I’d help and I will. Why did you tell her you’d do them?”
Lori frowned, as if she hadn’t really considered the question. “Because it has to get done.”
“And because you never say no to anyone,” Matt countered.
Lori’s eyebrow arched. “I’ve managed to stand up for myself in a few instances. Tell me why this is any of your business? I can juggle a lot of things at once, Matt. Don’t worry. I won’t go back on my word to help you.”
“It never crossed my mind that you would. But that’s not the point. BethAnn’s a bully.”
“True.” She slapped the lid back on the box he’d been looking through. “But why am I going to make more of a problem out of this than it has to be? I keep telling myself she must be very unhappy to act the way she does. She’s stuck.”
“Stuck?”
“She’s not going to change, Matt. And it’s not fair of us to expect her to,” Lori muttered. “Plus, I think it’s pretty evident she’s miserable. Honestly, it’s just easier to go along with her than try to fight her. As was proven yesterday, remember?”
“That was petty. Firing Jason like that.”
“That’s BethAnn. And is this what we’re going to talk about all night? BethAnn Bottomley?”
“I sure as heck hope not.”
Matt shuddered and brought a familiar smile to Lori’s full lips. Lips he’d finally kissed less than an hour ago. Lips he wanted to kiss again—if she ever gave him another chance. He sniffed the air. “I think the coffee’s ready.”
“Excellent. I can use a pick-me-up. You okay eating in the kitchen?”
“Wherever you want,” he said as he followed her, his own lips curving at the sight of her superhero sweats and matching tee. Who knew Simon had a kindred spirit in the assistant hotel manager? He could smell coconut and lime, no doubt her shampoo or soap and the scent invigorated him far more than a gallon of coffee ever would.
Friends, he reminded himself. They were just friends. For now.
But he’d made progress. She’d let him a little further into her life despite her reluctance.
As far as Matt was concerned, that made tonight one of the best nights of his life.
CHAPTER NINE
LORI HAD TO ADMIT, however reluctantly, that Matt had been right. Having someone help her with the invitations not only got them done in record time, but also gave her something to concentrate on other than her irritated resentment at both BethAnn and herself for having been coerced into taking on the task in the first place.
Having a friend bring her dinner was a nice bonus. Except the more time she spent with Matt—alone—the more she had to accept she might be underestimating her friendship abilities. Being around him, talking with him, reminded her of all the things she’d secretly longed for but had convinced herself she could never have... Until she did believe. Only to be disappointed, once again.
Winnie had settled herself into a ball in one of the empty boxes on the table, occasionally batting at a scrap of paper or Lori’s or Matt’s hands. Matt seemed to enjoy the cat’s attention and took a few minutes here and there to play with her. At least until Winnie got bored and turned her fuzzy butt on the two of them and went to sleep.
Lori grabbed the last stack of filled envelopes and thanked her sore fingers that they were almost done. But that also meant the time for small talk was over and soon, he’d leave. And Lori would be stuck with the same unanswered questions swimming around in her head. Questions she was too uncertain to ask.
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