A Savannah Christmas Wish

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A Savannah Christmas Wish Page 13

by Nan Dixon


  “Hey, girl.” She knelt next to the red-and-green-plaid doggie bed she and Daniel had picked up.

  The puppy opened sleepy eyes and yawned.

  “Were you a good girl last night?” Bess gave the puppy’s belly a good rub.

  “No.” Daniel’s voice had her jumping.

  “No?” She took a deep breath, but her heart rate didn’t slow down. Why did his voice make her want to lick him all over? So not a good idea.

  “Carly didn’t want to sleep alone.” Daniel frowned. “Not even on my bedroom floor.”

  She resisted the urge to touch Daniel’s face and give him the same comfort she’d given the puppy. “Her name is Carly?”

  He gave her a grumpy nod. “It’s your fault I have a dog. I expect you to help out.”

  “Sure.” She handed her mug to him. “You need this more than I do.”

  His face scrunched up. “It’s too hot for coffee.”

  “Try it.” She raised an eyebrow.

  He took a sip. His shoulders eased. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Abby’s bringing over iced coffee with lunch, too.”

  “No wonder Pop likes working here.”

  “How is Samuel?”

  “Waiting on test results.” Daniel’s shoulders hunched up again.

  “So, where do you want me?”

  Daniel’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Where do you want me to work?” she explained. What had he thought she’d meant?

  He blushed. “We’re starting on the final two rooms on the third floor, but the engineer came by on the balconies. I want to walk you through his ideas.”

  “Let’s get to it.”

  As they walked up the stairs, Daniel asked, “How did the consult go this morning?”

  “Well, I think.”

  “I still can’t believe you’d work for a guy who fired you,” he blurted out.

  She shrugged. “If it gets me money for a down payment on my apartment, I’ll do most anything.”

  Daniel put a hand on her arm and stopped their climb.

  She ignored the zing shimmying through her body. “What?”

  “Real estate agent called.” Pity filled Daniel’s brown eyes. “She’s bringing through more buyers tomorrow. They’re going through your place.”

  Everything inside her clenched. Just as she was coming up with ways to make more money... Why now?

  * * *

  EVEN THOUGH BESS wanted to soak in her tub, she picked up the clothes scattered in her closet and loaded the dishwasher. It was tempting to leave the place messy, but she wouldn’t let potential buyers think she was a slob. Only after she’d vacuumed and dusted did she set to work on her bid for Gray’s warehouse condos.

  She created two separate bids: one for the outside balconies, the second for the atrium. Gray had to see a landscaped interior would help sell condos. She added a third bid for the atrium Christmas tree. If he agreed to the tree, she would suggest decorating the atrium each holiday. She had plenty of seasonal ideas.

  After pulling everything together, she double-checked her math, crossed her fingers and shot the package off to Gray.

  Would Gray study her bid right away? She stared at her email. Her foot jiggled so hard her coffee table rattled. Shoot. Gray was knee-deep in bids with his Boston project.

  Next, she put in writing what she and Jimmy had talked about on Tybee. As a PS she added, I’m bidding on other jobs and would like to continue our plant and flower wholesale agreement. Please let me know if that works for you.

  She signed off, hoping she’d provided enough incentive to keep Cade interested in working with her.

  For the first time in weeks, she didn’t know what to do with herself. There were no orchids to nurture. She’d cleaned her apartment.

  The way Daniel kept checking on the dog this afternoon had been cute. What were he and Carly doing?

  Grabbing her phone, she zapped off a text before she could talk herself out it. She could do that. They’d found the dog together, after all. How’s Carly?

  The answer came back.

  She ate my newspaper. And had a fight with a roll of toilet paper.

  Bess laughed at the mental image. “Oh, God.”

  Better close the bathroom door from now on, she sent back.

  Now you tell me. See you in the morning.

  Smiling, she set down her phone. She’d walk the dog for him tomorrow.

  * * *

  BESS MANEUVERED THE Bobcat around the corner of the Carleton carriage house and dumped the final scoopful of dirt on the growing pile. She loved shaping the land and creating something beautiful.

  Molly shoveled dirt into a wheelbarrow. “We’re at six inches.”

  Bess trusted Molly, but took the measurements again. “That’s what I got, too.”

  Molly rolled her eyes, but grabbed a stake. “Is this where you want it?”

  “Farther to the right.” Bess pushed a sweaty strand of hair off her neck. “Let’s get the shape set.”

  They planted stakes and maneuvered a hose to hold the curve she wanted for the library patio. Setting string at the three-inch gravel fill line, she measured then checked the drainage.

  “What do you think?” Bess asked.

  “Not quite...symmetrical.” Molly tugged on the hose.

  “It would be better if we looked from above.” Bess pointed to the carriage house. “Maybe there’s a good angle from the second floor.”

  They moved up the central staircase. Molly’s mouth hung open. “This will be gorgeous.”

  “Daniel—” Bess corrected herself. “I mean, the Foresters do good work.”

  Molly wiggled her eyebrows. “Daniel’s a pretty fine work of art all by himself.”

  “Hmm.” Bess kept her mouth shut. If Molly ever knew she and Daniel had slept together, her friend would razz her forever.

  Bess looked out the master bedroom window. “Something’s off.”

  Molly stared. “We should angle away from the house on the left.”

  Bess visualized it. “You’re right.”

  “I’ll go down.” Molly wiped the sweat off her forehead.

  Bess opened the window.

  Daniel exited the Carleton House kitchen door, Carly tagging behind him. He glanced over to Molly. Even from this distance, she spotted his frown. What had gotten his goat now?

  Molly waved to him. She couldn’t hear what they said, but Molly pointed to the window where she stood.

  Daniel’s frown deepened.

  It made her want to duck out of sight. She wasn’t hurting anything being in the carriage house.

  Daniel moved across the yard, Carly tumbling behind him.

  She gritted her teeth. To Molly, she called, “Move the section next to the house to my right.”

  They called back and forth. Bess ignored the stomp of feet on the steps and floor.

  “It’s good,” she shouted to Molly.

  Daniel’s footsteps stopped somewhere in the center of the room. Doggie nails scrabbled on the plywood. How could he yell at her for coming upstairs when he’d brought a puppy up here?

  “I’m not doing anything wrong,” she snapped.

  “What?” Daniel knelt next to a PVC pipe.

  She crossed her arms. “All we were doing is seeing if we liked the patio shape.”

  He moved to the window. “Looks good. I’d square it off, though.”

  No way. Her hands dropped to her sides. “Then why were you going to yell at me?”

  Carly ran over. Bess stooped and rubbed Carly’s head as the puppy chewed on her boot strings.

  “I wasn’t.” Daniel stared. “Why would you think that?”

  She stood. Mist
ake. They were too close. From here she could smell him: wood, sweat and sandalwood. Until Daniel had walked in, the room had felt huge. Now the walls closed in.

  “Because.” She jabbed a finger at him. “When you looked over at the patio, you frowned. Then you glanced at the window and stomped up the steps.”

  He grinned, his kill-a-few-brain-cells, memory-clouding grin. A grin she’d tried to ignore since they’d started to work together. “Interesting.”

  “W-what’s interesting?” She stumbled over the words.

  He leaned his shoulder against the wall. “You watching me.”

  “No.” She’d never admit that. “I was watching Carly.”

  She bent to rub Carly and retied the laces the dog had slobbered on.

  He squatted next to her. “Right.”

  “I could see your frown from here,” she said.

  “Because the plumber was supposed to have a crew working this afternoon.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.” He tapped her nose. “Everything isn’t always about us—I mean, you.”

  “I know.” She jerked to a standing position. “But you always scowl at me.”

  He unraveled from his crouch and towered over her. “That’s because I’m worried what crazy thing you’ll do next.”

  “Me?” What was he talking about? “I don’t do crazy things.”

  Daniel flashed the scar on his hand and then rubbed his nose.

  “We were kids,” she complained.

  “You pulled me into a fountain last month.”

  Well, maybe pulling Daniel into the fountain with his shoes on had been...impulsive. “We were both tipsy.”

  “You talked me into keeping Carly.”

  The puppy rubbed against her legs. “Could you give her up?”

  “Not the point. If you want more examples of craziness, how about us sleeping together?” Daniel’s voice was a steamy whisper.

  Her face heated. “You didn’t fight me off.”

  The gold flecks in his brown eyes flashed as he stared into her eyes.

  She held his gaze. She wouldn’t back down, even though her face had to be as red as poinsettia bracts.

  “You have dirt...” He brushed at her cheek with his thumb. His hand cupped her face and he stared. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?”

  “What?” Her breathing was shallow, as if she’d excavated the patio by hand. “Daniel?”

  “Nothing. Forget I said that.” He stumbled back, dropping his hand against his leg with a slap. “I have to get back to work.”

  He snatched up Carly and fled.

  Bess slumped against the wall. Daniel was thinking about her? She’d wanted him to lean down and kiss her. Almost willed him to press his lips to hers. Talk about crazy.

  Bess rubbed her temples. She was too smart to repeat her mistakes and let him dump her after having sex—again. But, ooh, she wanted.

  Pushing it aside, she headed down the stairs. There was work to finish and the pea gravel would arrive soon.

  “Looks good, Molly.” She tried to shake off the weirdness of her conversation with Daniel, but it stuck with her as she fired up the gas-powered tamping tool she’d rented.

  Molly measured and checked the ground levels.

  A man came around the corner. He jerked his thumb at a truck. “Got a load of gravel here.”

  Bess showed him where to dump the material.

  The truck beeped loudly as it backed up. Daniel came outside. “Where’s it going?” he shouted over the noise.

  “Next to the greenhouse foundation.” She raised her voice. “And the sand coming tomorrow will be dropped there, too.”

  He nodded. “Good plan.”

  Carly chased a butterfly and her tail.

  “Come on, girl.” Daniel called to the puppy.

  She plopped down in the shade.

  “I can watch her,” Bess volunteered.

  He frowned. God, he was predictable. “Thanks. I could send muscle down for you,” he offered.

  “We’ve got a rhythm.” She and Molly had done this plenty of times. “But could you chain up Carly?”

  “Sure.”

  She used the Bobcat to move bucketfuls of gravel. Sticking in her earbuds, she fired up Taylor Swift to block out the scratch of gravel sliding in the metal bucket.

  They spread and smoothed. Molly ran the tamper while Bess measured. They filled the patio base one inch at a time.

  Bess took one final measurement. “Perfect.”

  “It feels good to work.” Molly plopped next to her. “I’m barely putting in twenty hours a week.”

  “I need to work on Fitzgerald House flowers tomorrow, but I could use you around ten.” And while she was out at King’s Gardens, maybe Cade would have an answer to her proposal.

  “Sure.” Molly stood and dusted off her shorts. “I’m pouring a glass of wine and crawling into my shower. See you tomorrow.”

  Bess made three trips to store her wheelbarrow and tools. Daniel caught up with her as she hung up shovels.

  “Got a minute?” he asked.

  She tucked the key in her pocket. Would he bring up his comment of thinking about her again? Would he kiss her? “What’s up?”

  “Pop called.” Daniel was so solemn.

  She grabbed his hand. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s...fine.” Daniel rolled his hand over and held hers. His touch had quakes coursing through her body.

  “What’s wrong?” Why was Daniel worried? Her breath puffed out.

  “We accepted an offer on your apartment.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice that thorn bushes have roses.

  Abraham Lincoln

  FOR ONCE, DANIEL wished someone else had broken the bad news to Bess.

  Under her freckles, Bess’s face was pale, her forest-green eyes huge. Her breasts rose and fell in her sweat-stained tank top. “When do I have to move?”

  “End of October.”

  “Five weeks?”

  “Yeah.” He shoved his cap off, rubbing his hair.

  She locked the shed door. “Okay.”

  “I’ll help. If things don’t fit in my truck, I’ll grab the trailer.”

  Bess waved her hands as if she was clearing a chalkboard. “I...I can’t think about moving yet.”

  “You need to get organized.” Daniel was great with checklists. “Let me help.”

  “I’ll figure something out.” She shook her head. “I have to go.”

  As she walked away, he raked his hair again and jammed his cap back on his head. He could help. He’d create checklists and timetables for her. It was what he did.

  And maybe he wouldn’t feel like such a Scrooge for suggesting they sell her home.

  Selling Bess’s apartment wasn’t the only thing Pop had mentioned in the call. He’d scheduled a family dinner—in the middle of the week. What now?

  Even though the temperature bumped ninety, Daniel shivered. Maybe there was news from the doctor. Maybe they had a solution for Pop’s exhaustion. Nathan could head back to Atlanta and everything would be normal. He craved normal.

  “Hey, girl.” He gathered Carly and her things and headed for his truck.

  Back at his house, Carly wrestled with her stuffed dinosaur. He called the plumber and left a threatening voice mail, then answered questions from the wrought-iron supplier and engineer working on the Carleton House balconies.

  “Stay away from the toilet paper,” he said to Carly, stripping off his clothes on the way to the shower and tossing them in the hamper.

  Carly licked his ankle.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He hung his head as the hot water be
at down on him. He dreaded these family meals. Nothing good had come from the past couple.

  Once clean, he decided not to shave and opened the bedroom door.

  Carly had tugged his dirty clothes out of his hamper. “Great.”

  He snatched at his filthy jeans.

  Carly clamped down on the leg, growling as she played tug-of-war.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” He pulled.

  The puppy shook her head.

  “This isn’t a game.” He reached for her, but she ran, tangling his legs in the pants.

  He collapsed on the floor, grabbed the dog and gently eased her jaw open. “You monster.”

  She licked his face and snuggled under his chin.

  “Mom will fall for you like a load of bricks.”

  He checked the clock. Time to find out what Pop wanted.

  He drove through the historic district and past Fitzgerald House. Was Bess there or already packing? Guilt pounded through him like a nail gun. He’d help her find a place to live. It was the least he could do.

  He pulled up behind Nathan’s truck and sat. The cicadas’ song ebbed and flowed like ocean waves. Carly crawled on his lap, nudging his hand until he scratched her chin.

  Time to face the music. He carried Carly and the bouquet he’d picked up at the grocery store, and moved up the walk, dragging his feet like a condemned man.

  “Who do you have there?” his mother called, holding open the screen.

  “Mom, meet Carly.”

  His mother ignored the flowers and took the puppy. “Aren’t you the sweetest?” She held up a paw. “And aren’t you going to grow.”

  “I’m hoping not.”

  Mom laughed. “Samuel, we have a visitor.”

  She carried the dog to the family room.

  “You adopted a dog?” Pop asked as Mom set Carly on his lap.

  “I think she adopted me.” Or Bess had shamed him into taking her. “She was caught under a pile of laths at Carleton House. Bess and I found her.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you got a puppy?” Mom knelt next to Pop’s recliner and stroked Carly’s fur.

  “I’ve only had her a couple of days. I’ve got flyers up in case she belongs to someone.” It might break his heart if he had to give her up.

 

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