Marcy shook her head. “Her father and I are painfully predictable.”
A thought—rather, a person—occurred to me.
“Do you know Brendan Fitzgerald?” I asked.
Marcy’s brows furrowed, and she scowled as she thought hard about the name, finally snapping her fingers together.
“Yes. He was a boy she went to junior high with. They ran in the same circle briefly, but I haven’t heard her mention him since she started high school.”
“Interesting. Well, it might be nothing, but I have noticed she puts herself directly in his line of vision whenever she can. He’s in my class and actually needs to be there.”
Marcy folded her hands on the table and her lip turned up slightly. “I never saw that one coming and I really should have.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time a student failed a class just so they could spend more time with a crush.”
Usually the crush runs both ways, however.
“Wait until her father hears about this.” Marcy gestured toward the ceiling. “On second thought, it’s probably better if he is blissfully ignorant on this one.”
I didn’t have the heart to say anything about Brendan’s lack of interest in her direction, but it worried me since Delilah had already gone to such great lengths to spend more time with him, no matter how one-sided.
“Would you like me to talk to her about things?” I asked, not wanting to overstep my bounds.
“That would be a godsend.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” I assured her. “Sometimes hearing things from someone other than a parent can help.”
“A truer statement could not have been said. I always heard raising a teenage daughter could be a challenge, and to think, I have another one to hit this age in about a year…” Her eyes glazed over and I had to laugh.
“Every child and experience is different. I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” she joked.
“Hold me to what? I didn’t say a word.”
Marcy’s expression had completely softened and it looked as if a huge weight had been lifted.
“I’ll let you know how the chat goes. When would be best to call you tomorrow to discuss?”
“Delilah takes her flute lesson from four to five.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll give you a call, and we’ll take it one step at a time. If she loves history as much as it sounds like, this should be a small bump in the road.”
“Thank you, Victoria” She examined her phone. “I better go retrieve her from tennis.”
“Yes, you better go get her or you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Amen to that.” Marcy stood up and thanked me once more before leaving the bakery.
“How are you going to handle that tomorrow?” Gabby asked, as she tidied up the newspapers by the door.
“I’m really not sure yet.”
“Well, I’m certain you’ll find the perfect words.”
I laughed. “Such misguided faith you have in me.”
“The thought of Jason’s niece, Katie, failing a class for a boy gives me the shivers, and we should have more than ten years before boys come in the picture. Well, that’s probably just wishful thinking.” Gabby adjusted a wooden anchor that hung on the wall and turned around. “I heard through the grapevine that you’ll be coming to the annual Rhodes barbeque.”
“That vine is really short,” I teased. “But yeah. I’m looking forward to the whole thing, and I’m interested in seeing two Masons’ side by side.”
Gabby’s mouth curved into a huge grin. “And why would that be?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Haven’t met many identical twins.”
“Well, it can be like you’re seeing double, but they couldn’t be more different.”
“How so?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. They’re both amazing guys—like truly amazing. But let’s see… for starters, Ayden owns an energy drink business and he’s a tad more refined. He got used to having to sell-sell-sell and kind of looks like he stepped out of Esquire and I’d say Mason is more the—”
“Rugged and charming brother?”
Gabby cracked up and leaned against the wall. “Believe it or not, they’re both pretty damn charming, but yeah… I could see that for a comparison.”
“You know, it’s kind of fun to have the “eye candy but no touch” policy.”
Gabby shook her head. “No it’s not. That’ll get old real quick. A few more projects around the house and—”
I threw my napkin at her and it did a pitiful job of floating to the ground.
“While I appreciate your advice, I know it would be a very bad idea to even entertain that notion. I’m just too tired.”
“You’re not too tired,” Gabby replied. “You’re scared of letting your guard down. I can see it plastered all over you. You’d rather be alone than chance getting hurt again.”
“I don’t think it’s quite that extreme.”
“Of course you don’t. Your type never does.”
I didn’t know whether to be offended or baffled so I was both. “And how do you know so much about this?” My brow quirked, waiting for an explanation.
“Because I was that type. I was one of you until Jason showed me the price of keeping my guard up. The thicker the walls around my heart, the more the world around me slipped away. It took the right kind of love to make me see the possibilities. Someday, I’ll fill you in on how we came to be, but that would take far more time than you have. There were a few more bumps in the road than I would have initially thought, but it made us a stronger couple for it.”
The phone rang and Gabby picked it up on the second ring. It was Jason. I could tell immediately by how her voice changed.
I stood up and gave her a quick wave. “Hope to hear your love story someday, but don’t expect it to be an incentive plan,” I hollered behind me as I left the bakery.
My steps quickened at the thought of getting to see Mason tonight, and I couldn’t wait to see if “not serious” could be in my plan.
“So how was your field trip? Any of those suckers get loose in downtown Seattle?”
“How in the world did you get so much done already?” I asked, taking a step into the family room. I was in shock. The place looked nothing like I’d left it this morning, and that was a good thing.
Mason had completely sanded and prepped the wood floors for refinishing, and the stone veneer for the fireplace was sitting in the kitchen, waiting to be installed.
“I thought it would be a nice surprise for you. I didn’t have anything on my schedule today so I came over early to bust it out.” He stood up from the floor and stretched toward the ceiling. I was almost certain he was taunting me to look, which I did. His hair, jeans, and shirt were covered in a thick layer of sawdust and he had black pads strapped to each knee. I saw the treasure trail lead into his jeans and I had to resist staring. “But you didn’t answer my question. How was today?”
I knew Mason had something to gain from all this hard work—a house, but when I looked into his eyes, I felt like there was something more driving him to be here.
“Sorry! This surprise kind of took my breath away. I’m actually hopeful about getting rid of this place quickly before I head back home.” I smiled. “But yeah. Today was really special. The kids loved the museum, and our tour guide was in his first year of college so they completely related. I met with one of my student’s parents after and—” I stopped. Why in the world did I think he cared enough to listen to me drone on about my day?
“Why’d you stop?” Mason asked, walking toward me. His eyes fastened on mine and heat rolled up my body the closer he came. His expression looked as if he wanted to devour me, and I felt completely at his mercy, but he kept walking right on by…right on by to the kitchen.
I certainly misjudged that one.
“I didn’t want to bore you,” I answered, swallowing down the embarrassment of the sorry exc
use of an imagination I had.
Mason refilled his glass with water and took a sip, his eyes still connected with mine. And those eyes—that stare—was all it took for my world to be knocked off-kilter. It had to be something to do with the island air.
“You would never bore me,” he said, setting the glass on the counter. “Even if you tried and might I add I think there has been some of that going on.”
He grabbed a bag of sliced apples out of the fridge and ripped it open.
“What do you mean?” I asked, resting both hands on my hips. “Why in the world would I go out of my way to bore someone?”
He smirked and shook his head, rubbing his jaw. “I haven’t been able to figure that one out. You have a habit of starting conversations that you never finish. Let’s just say, I know you’ve been holding back or you’ve got a serious case of dementia starting.”
“I’m not holding back at all,” I lied. “I happen to get easily distracted and I think you’re probably exaggerating.”
“Nope. I’ve been waiting patiently for the conclusions to around eleven half-finished stories. You started about five of them while we were tiling the bathroom.”
It was true. There was something about Mason that made me want to open up and tell him everything all at once, but I couldn’t afford where that could lead so I found myself clamming up every time I caught myself rambling away. I hadn’t expected him to notice or care.
“So I don’t make it twelve unfinished stories, the meeting with Delilah’s mother went well. We think we might have figured out why Delilah flunked her favorite subject, winding up in summer school, and his name is Brendan.”
“A girl wouldn’t do that for a guy.” Mason looked concerned as he walked back into the family room. There was no place to sit except the floor. He’d managed to haul all the furniture onto the deck outside in order to refinish the floors.
“You’d be surprised what crazy things people can do for love, and at that age, it can feel like the end of the world, especially if you have a crush and the other person refuses to see it. And it’s not only girls who are hopelessly denied, by the way.”
Mason’s brow quirked up slightly and it looked as if he was biting his tongue, literally.
“What?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He grinned and shook his head, picking up a trowel. “So I think that still leaves me on pins and needles to hear the dog up the tree, Camp Gilroy, The Last of the Mohicans, nude beach, London blow off, boat excursion seasick trips—numbers one-two-and three, sorority dance, and first teaching job stories… and one of the most intriguing, the more recent overboard canoe outing that required a tetanus shot.”
I shook my head. “Now I know I didn’t stop and start that canoe story.”
“No, but your friend did and that’s enough for me.”
I took a seat on the floor next to the fireplace, feeling far too comfortable in this house for my liking. I prepared for the sadness to wash over me, sitting in the same place as I sat with my sister so many years before, but it didn’t. I looked up at Mason and found myself searching for some reason why, for the moment, I didn’t want to go running from this place.
“The stone you chose is beautiful. I can’t wait to see it go up.”
“I think this would be the perfect project for you to be in charge of.” He walked to the kitchen and grabbed the first box of stone. “And it will give me a chance to eat my apple slices.”
“You don’t think I’ll mess it up?” I asked, rather flippantly.
“I’ll be here the entire time to make sure you don’t.”
Mason placed the box of stones on the ground next to the fireplace. They were a beautiful ivory color, and when the light caught the rock in a certain way, it would sparkle in areas and looked almost magical.
“All we do is dip the trowel into this mixture,” he replied, lifting the lid off a tub. “And smear it onto the wall in an even coat. Then you use that tool,” he pointed to another metal tool laying on the floor, “and run it through the material to remove the excess before you place the stone.”
“You make it sound so easy.” I slowly stood up and took a deep breath in as he placed plastic on top of the wood floors to protect his handiwork.
“It is. I promise. Dig in.”
I grabbed the trowel and stuck it in the thick mixture, lifting out quite a load.
“Now splat that thin set over here and start to smear it outward, keeping it under the string I placed there.”
“Is splat the technical term?” I did as instructed and watched the glob of material slide down the wall and land on the plastic covering the floor. I knelt over to pick it back up with my trowel, but he stopped me.
“Nope. You don’t want to use that. Get some new stuff on there and try again.”
“I doubt we’ll get a new fireplace by Christmas at this rate,” I muttered, bending over to scoop more on the trowel. I stood up to have Mason take a step closer from behind. He was only a few inches away, and I could sense every single part of him as wondrous sensations zipped through my veins.
It had been too long.
I managed to get the goop plastered onto the wall right before it dropped to the floor. Mason slipped his arms over my shoulders and I nearly lost my mind. He was a solid six inches taller than me so this wasn’t hard to do by any means, but there was something about being this close to him that made my body respond to him and care nothing about the project in front of us. If I had eyes in the back of my head, I swear I’d see him smirking.
His hand settled over the top of mine as he slowly guided my hand along the wall, spreading the gritty substance evenly.
“See you work with what you’ve got. You can’t rush it. You just work slowly… easing your way into it. Stay consistent with the strokes but learn when to ease off. Then you won’t be left with any sort of disastrous mess to clean up at the end of it all.” His hand tightened over mine as we gave it one last swipe, and I felt the breath he let out cascade over my scalp, sending an intense awareness along my entire body.
He was slick, but in a completely charming way.
My breath caught as he removed his hand from mine, but he didn’t move away from me.
“Time to place the first stone piece. We won’t need to use the other tool. Our finesse was perfect. We make a good team,” he said, placing both hands on my shoulders before giving me a gentle squeeze. The idea that setting stone could be such a turn on completely shook me to my core. How could this man make home improvement sexy? And more to the point, what in the world had gotten into me?
“You doing okay?” he asked, tucking some of my hair behind my ear that had escaped from my ponytail.
“Uh-huh.” My voice was far more breathless than it needed to be.
“Good.” He took a quick step back and reached for the stone veneer.
I watched the length of his body move and extend next to me as he lifted the stone and instructed me to hold out my hands. He placed it right side down and pointed at the wall.
“Stick it on there. Go ahead.” He smiled. Whatever little war he’d set up in his mind, he’d won and that unknown victory had me worried.
“Okay.” I tried desperately to shake off the feelings that he produced, but it was near impossible. I took a step closer and placed the stone onto the thin set we’d just applied. He’d marked off with a string where I needed to place the first line of veneers, which made it easy to level the stone.
“Perfection. Now take this and tap it.”
I nodded and took the rubber block he handed me, secretly hoping for another hands-on lesson.
None came. So the next time, I repeated the steps all by myself as he wandered into the kitchen to finish his apple slices, and I was left to wonder if everything that transpired had been in my head.
Probably. It often was.
I took a step back after the first several rows were completed and nodded.
“That looks pretty good, if I do say so myself
,” I called out to him.
Mason brought over a soda water for me and I opened it up and took a sip.
“It looks amazing,” he agreed. “Almost like the guy who planned this knew what he was doing.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I teased. “It was the skill behind laying the stone that made it really sparkle.”
He playfully touched my chin. “You have some thin set right there… Got it.”
My gaze landed on his thumb as he pulled it away, and I didn’t see any of the grey substance.
“So you guys bid on the high school job every two years?” I asked, trying to get my mind back on work, any work.
Not fingers.
Not lips, definitely not lips.
He laughed unexpectedly and nodded. “Yep. Like clockwork.”
My gaze landed on his mouth, and I cursed myself for not being able to follow a simple rule. Don’t look at his lips, or fingers, or anything below the nose really.
“And you always win the bid?” I questioned. “Seems lucky.”
“Sure do.” He had a twinkle in his eyes that I’d come to look forward to since meeting him. It was a blend of pure amusement and secrecy. It was like he held onto one big, life-changing secret that he’d someday divulge, if we were lucky enough. But I somehow believed that was just how he operated.
“Why do I think there is more to the story?” I placed my soda water on the floor and dipped my trowel back in the compound and continued on. I was determined to get the fireplace finished tonight.
“Our bid is always the lowest.”
“Yeah, I gathered that, Captain Obvious,” I chuckled.
Mason stood next to me and crossed his arms, staring at my work, and I suddenly cared what he was thinking.
“We ensure that no one can beat our bid. It helps we only charge for materials and nothing for time.”
I laughed. “So it’s a running theme for your company? How in the world do you stay in business?”
Mason laughed and pointed at a bare area. “Missed a spot.”
I rolled my eyes and filled in the area with more gunk—the technical term.
Finding Love in Forgotten Cove (Island County Series Book 1) Page 7
