by Jeannie Watt
Stevie and Tess exchanged a look.
“No deal,” Felicity repeated. “We were civil to one another all day.” She’d made certain that their paths hadn’t crossed too often—no small feat in the old high school—being uncertain of what he might do or say while her sisters were nearby. She needn’t have worried because he’d been as distant and professional as she was until Stevie and Tess left the building. Which made her wonder what her sisters were talking about.
“Yes,” Tess said. “You were civil like two people who’ve had a fight just before appearing at a big public event.”
Or two people who had kissed.
“I don’t know what to say,” she muttered, focusing on the last of the spaghetti.
As the big sister of the outfit, she made it a point to appear like she knew what she was doing, and after they’d lost their mom, she’d doubled her efforts in that regard. Yes, she’d felt like she’d fallen down a dark hole after their mother’s death. Yes, she’d cried herself to sleep more than once, but she’d wanted her sisters to know that it was possible to be strong in the face of immeasurable sorrow, so she’d tried hard to never show weakness.
“Tell us it’s none of our business,” Tess said.
“Would it do any good?” Felicity asked.
“No,” Stevie said in a mild voice.
They were all working together again tomorrow, and Felicity honestly didn’t know if it was better to come clean or hold her ground. The last thing she wanted was for her sisters to be watching them, but it appeared they were doing that anyway.
“We kissed.”
“Told you,” Stevie said, holding out a palm.
“You’ll have to wait,” Tess replied. “My purse is in the car.”
“Wait.” Felicity set her fork on her empty plate. “You made a bet?”
“Small one,” Stevie said with a sniff.
Felicity rolled her eyes and reached for her wine. She was suddenly very tired. She took a swallow, then set the glass down again. She was so exhausted that if she drank the way she felt like drinking, she’d probably be face down in the empty plate within fifteen minutes. And the crazy thing was that most of the exhaustion came from dodging Danny that day, so that her sisters wouldn’t suspect anything, rather than from physical labor.
That worked well.
“I played this wrong,” she admitted. “It’s just hard to wrap my head around kissing Danny, and I wanted to keep it to myself until I…”
What?
She hadn’t a clue.
“Come on, guys,” she said, once again lifting her glass. “You can see where this kind of hit me out of left field.”
“Two baseball analogies in a row,” Tess said to Stevie in a serious tone.
“I’m going to hurt you both.”
Stevie laughed then reached out to pat her arm. “In case you never noticed, Danny is kind of a catch.”
“I don’t want to catch him,” Felicity said in a horrified voice.
“No reeling him into the boat?” Tess asked, bringing up the analogy Felicity had made concerning her and Jason Regan.
“No. This is not that kind of thing. Not at all.”
“Then why,” Stevie asked in a reasonable voice, “are you reacting as if it is?”
Felicity blinked at her. “Good question.”
Which she was not about to answer, because that would involve explaining about Sean, and all the things she hadn’t fessed up to before, which in turn made her feel shifty. It was her life, she owed no one explanations, but this was the only big secret she’d ever kept, and it still didn’t sit right.
“Processing, processing,” Stevie murmured.
Felicity gave her sisters a dark look. “I am processing, and I’m not soliciting answers.”
“Wouldn’t dream of offering any unsolicited answers,” Tess said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “But if you ever need to talk—”
“I know where both of you are. Thank you.”
Stevie propped her elbows on the table and settled her chin on her clasped hands. “You probably feel funny with us there watching the two of you.”
“A little,” Felicity agreed in a pointed voice.
“Well forget we’re there. Do what you would do if we weren’t.”
“I pretty much am already. The job site is for working.”
“Then where did you kiss?” Tess asked curiously.
“Long story,” Felicity drained her wine. Maybe she’d be better off passed out on her plate rather than being on the receiving end of a sisterly grilling. Danny didn’t want anyone to know about the warehouse and she wasn’t going to tell. As to the second kiss on the steps, the one Danny had told her to think about—which she was—that was none of their business.
Stevie looked at Tess. “I say we give her a break. She’s tired.”
“And it is none of our business,” Tess replied as if Felicity wasn’t in the room with them.
She exhaled and crossed her arms over her chest. Both sisters got to their feet and leaned down to give her a group hug.
“We’re done,” Tess said.
“For now,” Stevie added. “But we won’t let Danny know we’re onto you guys.”
“Imagine my relief,” Felicity grumbled, but she knew her sisters were as good as their word. Her only concern tomorrow would be Danny. And herself.
Tess and Stevie said good night a few minutes later, and Felicity saw them as far as the door. She wanted to go to bed in the worst way and either fall unconscious or mull over the Danny situation, but she and her dad wouldn’t have that many more evenings together, and like Danny had said, he missed her, just as she missed him. She plopped down on the sofa and settled in to watch the rest of the sports highlights with him.
“Danny’s a good guy.”
The pronouncement came out of the blue and was so unexpected that Felicity wondered if she’d heard right, especially since her dad’s gaze was still trained on the television screen. Perhaps her conversation with her sisters had been louder than she’d thought.
“How much did you overhear?” she asked.
“Didn’t hear anything.” He gave her a perplexed look. “I was just thinking that without him, I’d be paying those penalties.”
“Ah.” Felicity hugged a pillow to her middle. “You’re right. It would have been impossible to do this without him.”
“I hope this isn’t hurting his computer repair business.”
“He put his part-time employee on full-time. You’re paying him, but he’s paying her for additional hours…I guess he’s working for free.”
Her dad nodded. “See? Good guy.”
He was a good guy. And she wanted to kiss him again, but she didn’t want to mess up either of their lives. Or give rise to expectations.
Then just tell him what you want. Be up-front, like you are in every other aspect of your life.
Every aspect except for the Sean thing, and what a disaster that had been. Every decision she’d made, from keeping the relationship on the down low to her reasons for moving to Seattle, had been counter to her character. She was never approaching a situation like that again.
So man up and tackle things head-on.
Felicity let out a soft sigh. Her dad glanced her way, but she kept her eyes on the television screen.
Her troublesome little voice was right. She needed to tackle this head-on.
*
After the kiss on the steps, Danny expected another day of Felicity dodging him. Instead she parked beside his car within minutes of his arrival at the old high school, yawning as she came up the steps carrying a Cakery Bakery box and her giant coffee mug. Danny pushed open the door and she ducked under his arm. He released the door, and it swung shut as she placed the box on the makeshift plywood table.
He pointed out the obvious. “You’re early.”
“Yes.” She untied the string and opened the box, then held it out to him. Inside was the usual lemon bismark, raspberry jelly donut, an
d several maple bars with a single heart-shaped cookie resting on top. He reached for it.
“Mine, I assume,” he said, holding up the cookie, “what with you being a conscientious objector and all.”
“Yours.”
There was no message, only red piping on white glaze.
“What was your bad Valentine’s Day experience?” he asked, taking the proverbial stab in the dark.
“That’s not up for discussion.”
Target struck.
“But there was one.”
“Oh, yes.” She took the raspberry donut and their gazes connected as they simultaneously bit.
“Was your heart broken?”
“Worse than that, I messed up my life.” He lowered his cookie, but she merely shook her head. “I’m not discussing it.”
He nodded his acceptance of her boundary as Felicity wiped the powdered sugar off her lips with the backs of her fingers. “You caused me a sleepless night,” she said matter-of-factly.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“You know how’s that.” She drilled him with a look. “I believe your words were ‘there’s something to think about.’ I did.”
“And your conclusion?” His heart was beating faster, so he made a show of casually popping the last of the cookie into his mouth.
Felicity gave a maddeningly noncommittal shrug and reached for her coffee mug, drinking while Danny watched her. Waited. He knew better than to push Felicity when he wanted to know what she was thinking. Knew more about her than probably any woman on earth, having collected information for most of his life. It had been important to know how she thought as they plotted against one another.
And then things had changed for him.
Would they change for her?
“My sisters know.” The words seemed to explode in the silence that hung between them.
“Know…?”
“That we kissed.” She dusted off her hands, then wiped them on her jeans for good measure and reached again for the coffee mug.
“I see.” He rubbed his neck, then raised his gaze to hers, his hand still gripping the back of his neck. “What now?”
Her jaw shifted sideways. “At the risk of embarrassing myself by over-assuming, I’m going to simply say that I am not in a place to get serious about anyone.”
Her cheeks were faintly flushed, which was unusual.
“The final conclusion of a sleepless night?”
She shook her head. “I knew it going in, and it occurred to me that the best course of action is to simply lay things out so that we’re on the same page as you mentioned yesterday.” She sipped her coffee before adding, “You know. Communicate?”
“In the spirit of communication, what do you suggest from here on out?”
“That depends on what you want.”
What he wanted, she’d just told him he couldn’t have.
When he didn’t answer, she said, “I’ll be honest, Danny. I like kissing you. But I can’t risk having it lead to impossible expectations.”
“So you’re letting me down easy.”
Her cheeks went even pinker. How many times had he seen Felix blush? Was this perhaps the first?
“I’m trying to communicate,” she said through her teeth.
“You’re onboard for more kissing.”
She gave another casual shrug. “Could be, as long as we understand the parameters.”
“Thus suggesting that we continue as we are. Friends who are…friendly.”
“Perhaps.”
“You know that’s a problem.”
“Why?’
“Because you’re going to fall for me if we continue as we are.”
Her eyes jerked up to his, then the familiar “oh yeah?” expression spread across her face. “You are a narcissist,” she said, moving a step closer, as if he’d just dared her to do so.
“I’m realistic. And I’m not going to be scared off by a three-headed dog this time.”
“Danny, be warned. We will not become a thing, no matter how often we kiss. Friends. Period.”
“That isn’t the message I get when we kiss.”
“I like kissing you. But I don’t want to mess up—”
“Your life?” he asked softly, noting the quick shift in her expression as if she realized messing up her life could only happen if she cared about him.
“Or yours,” she said, recovering with ease. The blush had faded from her cheeks and the light of challenge now shown in her eyes. “It’s a two-way street.”
“I’m able to take care of myself, as I have demonstrated time and again.”
She gave him a look which clearly indicated that she could recall times when he’d failed in that regard.
“For the most part,” he amended. “Unless tool sheds are not involved.” He pulled in a breath. “What now? Do we work as far away from each other as possible again, to avoid temptation?”
“I can withstand the temptation that is you.”
“Experience tells me otherwise.”
Her mouth tightened ominously as she took hold of the front of his denim work shirt with the hand that didn’t hold a giant coffee mug, lightly twisting the fabric and pulling him half a step closer. “I’m not going to spend the last week on this jobsite avoiding you.”
He glanced down to where her hand was tangled in his shirt. “Well demonstrated.”
Her lips curved up into an unapologetic smile. “No kissing on the jobsite.”
“But we can mangle shirts?” he asked in a low growl.
She released her hold. “There’ll be no more of that on the jobsite either.”
“Actually, it’s not that bad,” he said as he smoothed the wrinkles.
She gave him a smirk as she stepped back. “We understand each other, right?”
Not even close.
What he understood was that he had seven days to convince Felicity that at the very least, they needed to remain in contact. That this wasn’t a moment out of time. It was their time.
The muffled sound of a car engine caught their attention, and they turned simultaneously toward the door.
“Your sisters are early,” Danny said.
“And they’ll be watching us.”
“Gr-reat.” He reached for his tool belt, hanging on the nail behind her. “So where do you want me to start?”
“Where you left off.”
“There’s a possibility that we will be working in the boardroom together.” Something she had avoided the day before.
“I told you I wasn’t going to avoid you. Besides,” she lifted her chin in an exaggerated way, “I can take it if you can.”
“Guess we’ll see about that.” He buckled on the belt as the front doors opened.
“Morning, all,” Stevie said, pulling off her knit cap as she came inside.
“Morning,” Tess echoed, following Stevie inside.
“No Neville?” Felicity asked as the door shut behind her sisters.
“Jason got back late last night, so I dropped Nev at his house.”
“I bet the little guy is overjoyed,” Felicity said.
“I believe he is now warming Jason’s feet.”
Danny passed the donut box and both sisters dove in.
“Thank you,” Stevie said, holding up a maple bar. “I didn’t have time for breakfast. By the way,” she said to Felicity, “I have Friday off. Teacher conferences and the teacher I’m subbing for will be there. I can paint Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.”
“I can do Friday evening, Saturday, and Sunday,” Tess said. “Jason thought he’d be available, but he has to take off again on Friday morning. There are still loose ends on the Mexico project that he’s working on.”
“I think, barring disaster,” Felicity reached out to knock on the wooden doorframe, “we’re going to be okay timewise.”
“Here’s hoping,” Tess said, saluting with the maple bar.
“I’m going to hit it,” Danny said after taking one last swig from his water
bottle. He met Felicity’s gaze, saw the familiar gleam of challenge there, then smiled at her sisters and headed down the hall to the office where he’d been working at quitting time yesterday. Felicity wandered in a few minutes later, as he was loading his tray with compound, and casually leaned against the doorframe.
“Why do I have a feeling that this isn’t settled yet?”
“Because, as usual, your instincts are dead-on.”
She shook her head as if he were delusional, then pushed off the doorframe and disappeared down the hall. Danny blew out a breath then went to work slinging mud, concentration now officially blown.
*
Felicity hummed tunelessly under her breath as she smoothed the wide joint knife down the wall, spreading the compound for the final time and rendering the seam beneath it invisible. She stood back, wiped the excess compound off the blade, then moved on to the next sanded seam awaiting its final coat.
Her sisters laughed and talked on the opposite side of the wall, while Danny worked in the office across the hall, also feathering seams. Even though he didn’t make a sound, she was more aware of him than she was of her sisters.
Fall for him indeed.
Even if she did—and she wasn’t going to—that was a secret she would keep to herself, because how—how?—could she and Danny negotiate an actual relationship? The logistics alone were enough to keep her from ever kissing him again.
Ha.
Felicity told her evil small voice to butt out as she wiped excess compound from the joint knife. Her seams so far were perfect, and she’d accomplished her morning Danny goal. She’d laid out her parameters and made clear what was and was not permissible. And even though they had a way to go before they accomplished a meeting of the minds, they were close.
The one big difference between the promise she’d made herself last night while brushing her teeth and what had happened this morning, was that she hadn’t brought things back to normal. After a long night, she’d come to understand that there was no such thing as “back to normal.” They’d crossed the line too many times. They would therefore forge a new normal, and she’d laid the groundwork a few hours ago.
Did she have a clear picture of what the new normal looked like?