Pursing my lips, I looked down as my phone chirped, signaling a message.
Ryan Mcallister: Meet you in forty-five
Sliding my phone back into my purse, I glanced toward the truck as it pulled down a second driveway I hadn’t noticed before.
Shaking off the odd encounter, I headed to the car to go meet the contractor.
*****
Pulling into the parking lot of the creamery, I let the car idle, the radio playing softly as I stared at the building. All at once, I was struck with a memory. It was fuzzy and faded, but I remembered standing outside this building. I had worn a bright yellow dress, and I remembered Uncle Beau laughing and swinging me in circles, his large hands clasped tightly around my forearms, my feet swinging in the air as I laughed in glee.
Shaking my head, I wiped at my cheeks. Would I ever stop crying? Grabbing for my purse, I found a crumpled tissue and dabbed at my cheeks, checking my makeup in the mirror. The sound of tires on gravel pulled my attention as a blue pick-up truck pulled in beside me. After checking my reflection, a final time, I climbed from the car and put a smile on my face.
“Good afternoon,” I called, lifting my hands to shield my eyes from the midday sun.
“Afternoon. So, you taking over this place?” Ryan Mcallister asked as he came around the truck.
“Oh, well, that’s the plan. Sort of.” I smiled, giving an awkward shrug.
“Huh. Well, let’s go have a look around, shall we?”
I nodded, producing the key I’d obtained from the lawyer and leading the way inside. Unsurprisingly the door was unlocked. I sighed, making a mental note to have that fixed.
Ryan followed me around, listening intently as I pointed out problem areas, things I thought could use replacing, adjusting, or complete removal. He moved around the building, taking measurements and nodding to himself from time to time. I did my best to stay out of his way, watching him intently, one arm wrapped around my body and gnawing nervously on my thumbnail. It was a terrible habit I couldn’t manage to kick.
After what felt like forever, Ryan turned to me, his face serious as he looked around the building once more. “The repairs and changes you want are doable. However, it’s not going to be cheap.”
I nodded, stepping toward him as he leaned against the counter, laying a notebook in front of him. We went over the numbers, Ryan patiently answering every question that popped into my head. After everything had been discussed as far as we could crunch it, I straightened and held out my hand to him.
“Well, Mr. Mcallister, thank you very much for your time. I look forward to working with you.”
“Ryan, please. And I look forward to the same.”
Before I could say another word, the shop door opened. I turned around, eyes widening as I recognized Wade filling the space, backlit by the brilliant sun outside. I blinked rapidly against the brightness and had opened my mouth to speak when he cut me off.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”
Any pleasantry I might have been trying for evaporated like moisture in the desert. Narrowing my eyes, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, I lifted one brow. “Excuse me?” My tone was icy, though it didn’t seem to affect him one iota.
Ryan cleared his throat, gathering up his notebook. “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Wilder.”
My eyes locked on Wade, though I gave Ryan a stiff smile. The second the door closed behind him, I let loose.
“Just who do you think you are? How dare you speak to me like that!”
Wade scoffed, brows shooting up into his hairline. He jabbed at his chest, disbelief coloring his tone. “How dare I? And as for your other question, I’m the guy who’s been here. Where the heck have you been?”
I gasped as he stalked toward me, backing me into the counter. He leaned over me, his blond hair falling into hazel eyes. Eyes that were hot with annoyance. He wore a grey tank top that clung to his body in a way that should had been deemed as sinful. I looked up at him, gritting my teeth and jutting out my chin, refusing to be intimidated by him.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but I suggest you back off. Now!” I kept my gaze locked on his, though it wanted nothing more than to dip down. To follow the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his neck, the ridges and valleys of his chest…
Knock it off, Lemon!
“I told you who I was. The name’s Wade Tucker, and this is my place. I’m the one who’s been here. I’m the one who put in the time. I’m the one Beau should have-” He broke off abruptly, swearing softly under his breath as he backed away, drawing a hand over the lower half of his face.
“The one he should have left everything to. That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?” My hands balled into fists at his lack of reply, my entire body seeming to vibrate with rage. “Isn’t it!”
“Of course it is! Who are you to sweep in here, with your fancy city clothes and try to change everything? As if you have any idea what Beau would have wanted! What he cared about!” Wade roared, storming toward me once more, though keeping some distance this time. “I’ve been here! I worked with him!”
My heart sped in my chest, my nostrils flaring as I struggled to breathe against his rage. It was as if a lightning bolt went off in my head. Something suddenly clicked within me, and all the righteous anger I’d been building vanished.
“Listen,” I said, holding up my hands, palms facing him, doing my best to keep my voice as calm as possible. “It’s obvious that Beau was very important to you. And you’re very angry about his decision. However,” I lifted my hand higher as he was about to speak, “the only way I can see through this, is if we work together. As I’m sure you deduced, I’ve spoken to Mr. Mcallister about fixing up the place, because, let’s be honest, it needs it.”
When he didn’t say anything, I licked my lips and pressed on. “You’re right. I don’t know anything about running an ice cream shop. I’m a book nerd, but all the books in the world don’t stand up to practical knowledge, so, do you think maybe, just maybe, we can table the hostility and try to work together? If you care about this place so much, then help me make it the best darn ice cream shop Haven has to offer.”
Wade stared at me, his chest rising and falling heavily. I wanted to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, but I forced myself to remain calm. It felt as if he were weighing me, judging my worth. Finally, he sighed, and a breath I didn’t realize I was holding exploded past my lips.
“Fine. But I want you to understand something.” He strode toward me, pointing a rigid finger at my chest. I licked my lips, realizing his eyes had darkened to a deeper green with his anger.
I shook my head, once again trying to shove the wayward thoughts out of my mind. Jerking my chin higher, I squared my shoulders. “What’s that?”
Wade stared at me, and I watched the moment the rage subsided. “I’m not doing this for you,” he spat, then turned on his heel and marched out the door, slamming it behind him.
“Neither am I,” I whispered.
Chapter Five
I arrived at the creamery bright and early the next morning, only to find myself alone. Checking my phone, I sighed and leaned my head back against the seat. We hadn’t technically agreed on a time, but as the sign on the shop claimed they opened at nine, though it was currently closed to customers. I had assumed arriving an hour earlier would be my best bet.
But apparently Mr. Wade Tucker did not agree.
With each passing minute, my annoyance grew, and by the time an hour had passed, I was ready to give him a piece of my mind. When ten o’clock rolled around and he still hadn’t shown up, I shoved myself out of the car, needing to pace off my anger.
“No good, good for nothing… Who does he think he is? I’m not made of time!” Checking my watch, I shook my head, pulling my keys from my purse and marching toward the door. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”
Just as I shoved the key in the lock, I heard the crunch of gravel under tires. I didn’t even bother to
look, just pushed open the door and disappeared inside.
My anger only rose as I looked around and wondered for what felt like the millionth time when the shop had last had a good, deep clean. I decided that was the first thing we would tackle.
Setting my purse on the counter, I made my way into the back, groaning at how cluttered it was. Had it always been like this? How had Beau worked like this? How did Wade?
Rolling my eyes, I set about finding cleaning products and buckets. After a quick search, I found a half empty bottle of floor cleaner, some window cleaner that looked like it had been there a while, and a bottle of bleach. I dumped it all into an empty five gallon bucket and declared it a good enough start. With a grunt, I hefted the bucket and waddled back to the front of the shop, vowing to pick up a gym membership as soon as possible.
Wade stood in the middle of the room, taking a long drink from a plastic water bottle. His brows rose as I came in, curiosity coloring his features. He was wearing yet another tank top, this one blue. Did the man not own any other clothes?
“What are you doing with all that?” he asked, replacing the cap on his bottle.
“This place. Is. Disgusting.” I huffed, dropping the bucket. Goodness, if I was finding it this heavy, how was I going to move it once I had water in it?
Wade rolled his eyes, coming toward me and grabbing the bucket easily with one hand. “Give me that.”
I bit back my retort, inhaling deeply. He smelled of the sun, lemon, and soap. It was oddly pleasing, and I found myself wanting to take another deep breath. Then I did.
“Did you just…?”
My eyes went wide, and I felt the heat creep up my neck. Did I just sniff you? Yes. Yes, I did. “No. I mean… What?”
Wade stared at me, looking me up and down before shaking his head and pulling the bottles of cleaner out of the bucket. “There’s a spicket outside. I’ll go fill this up.”
“Does it have hot water? Because hot water cleans better.” I wasn’t looking at him as I spoke but felt the weight of his eyes on me. “What?” I turned, crossing my arms over my chest as I prepared for the fight.
“Hot water cleans better?” He seemed dubious, his head tilted to the side, blond hair falling in front of his eyes in an annoyingly attractive way. Why didn’t he just cut it?
“Yes. Studies have shown that hot water kills germs. Or are you going to argue with science?” I lifted my chin, staring him down.
Wade didn’t say anything. Simply shrugged and moved toward a large sink in the back of the room. With a rougher flick of his wrist than was necessary, he turned on the hot water tap and stuck the bucket underneath the faucet.
“Okay. So, um. I thought we could start with the walls and windows. We’re going to need to move things out of here so that Mr. Mcallister can get in here to make his repairs--”
“Wait a minute.” Wade held up a hand, cutting me off. “You want to clean this place up, only to have Ryan come in here and mess it all up again?”
I barely bit back my sigh of annoyance. “If we clean up, it will give me a better idea of what we can keep and what needs to be replaced.”
“We?”
“Yes, Wade, we. Do you have a problem with that?” I snapped, hating how quickly this man could get under my skin. I had never met someone who could so easily annoy me with little more than a look.
He shook his head, exhaling heavily. “Oh, no. I wanted to spend the day cleaning.”
“Wonderful,” I chirped, ignoring the sarcasm in his tone as I went back to looking at the cleaner bottles. “Are these the only cleaners you have here? Most of these are expired.”
Wade set the half full bucket of water on the floor in front of me, his brows pulled together. “Cleaners expire?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The scowl that turned his lips only made me laugh harder. “Yes, cleaners expire.” I shook my head. “Where’s the closest store? We’re going to need to get supplies.”
“You couldn’t have come to that conclusion before I filled up the bucket of water?”
I winced, glancing down at the bucket then back up at him, biting my lower lip. “I’m sorry?”
He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Come on, then. Grab what you need.”
Without waiting for me to answer, he strode from the shop, his long strides helping him easily cross the space in no time.
Sputtering, I grabbed my purse and jogged after him. “Excuse me. Where are you going?” I blinked as I stepped outside, lifting my hands to shield my eyes from the midday sun.
Wade stood beside his truck, the passenger door open, resting his forearm against the top of the door. “We are going to get cleaning supplies. Get in.”
I lifted my brows but decided against arguing and moved to climb up into the truck. I watched him jog around the front of the truck and climb in. The large vehicle rumbled to life, and I secured my seat belt, leaning my head back against the seat.
We drove in silence for a time, with only the low murmur of the radio filling the space between us. I shifted in my seat, observing his profile. He had a strong jaw, and an angular nose. It was a pleasant sight. Licking my lips, I cleared my throat and sat up straighter.
“So, have you always lived in Haven?”
His hands flexed on the steering wheel, drawing my eye. Was this a touchy subject? Or was it just the fact that I was asking?
“Yeah, born and raised,” he said after a long pause.
I stayed quiet, waiting for him to elaborate. But he didn’t. Sighing, I fought the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. “How long have you been working at the shop?” I tried again.
This time he glanced my way, once brow lifting before turning his attention back to the road. “Since I was a kid.”
Again, I waited, frustration building in my stomach. “And?” I pushed, not hiding my annoyance.
He sighed heavily through his nose, his hands flexing on the wheel again. Good, he was annoyed too.
“I used to go there all the time when I was a kid. One night, I didn’t want to go home, so I begged Beau to let me stay. He put a broom in my hand, and that was that.”
“Why didn’t you want to go home?”
He fell silent, his focus on the road intensifying. I exhaled, resigning myself to the fact that he wasn’t going to answer. I stayed silent as we pulled into the parking lot of the general store, shifting in my sear to unbuckle after he’d turned off the engine. I had just reached for the handle when he spoke.
“Cause it was more fun being at the creamery than being at home.” He shrugged, pushing open the door and exiting the truck. “You coming? I don’t want to get yelled at for picking the wrong products.”
I rolled my eyes and got out. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I marched past him. “I wouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“Oh, really? So, what was all that before?” he asked, his longer legs easily catching up with me. Inching in front of me, he pulled the door open, holding it wide for me.
Eyeing him suspiciously, I slipped past him and into the general store. “That was you being very rude. But I’m willing to move past that in an effort to work together.” I turned on my heel, looking up at him. “Do you think you can handle that?”
His crooked grin was quick and devilish, blond hair falling into his eyes as he leaned toward me. “Sweetheart, I can handle anything.”
Issuing a sound of disgust, I rolled my eyes and turned my back to him, studying the signs above the aisles as I searched for the cleaning supplies.
“This way,” Wade said with a chuckle, brushing past me and leading me in the right direction. Pulling faces at his back, I followed him.
*****
After completing our purchases, which I was more than a little surprised that Wade had offered to pay for, we headed back to the shop to dive into cleaning. Wade produced a radio and tuned it to the local country station, turning it up loud enough that casual conversation would have been an issue. I didn’t entirely
mind, however. Music motivated me, and the beat was steady enough to keep me going. I claimed one of the smaller buckets we’d purchased, filled it with hot, soapy water, and set to task.
In a strange way, we worked really well together. There wasn’t much need for talking, and we both instinctively gravitated toward cleaning the same things, which only made the job go faster.
After a few solid hours, I was sweating like a sinner in church, but the walls and counters were shining like they were brand new. Wiping my forearm across my brow, I smiled as I looked around.
“This is awesome. We’re doing great. I think we should wait on the floors though, yeah?” I glanced at Wade as he gave a grunt of approval, lifting my brows in question. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one sweating.
A dark stain dipped in a deep V on his chest, and the back of his shirt clung to him like a second skin. I tried to swallow, my throat suddenly dry as I moved toward the counter to get a glass of water.
Wade moved toward me, pressing past me as he too filled a glass. Inhaling sharply, I was flooded by his scent, my cheeks warming at his closeness. Clearing my throat, I slipped past him, ducking my head. “So, uh, I think now might be a good time to break for lunch?”
He downed his glass in three gulps, half turning to fill it up once more before nodding. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
I waited for him to say more, then sighed. “Do you have any suggestions on where we could get lunch? Since you’re the longer resident here?”
Turning, he stared at me, leaning back against the counter. He was silent for a time, occasionally taking a drink from the glass. It was all I could do not to squirm in frustration. Was he being purposely obtuse? Or was he just that deep a thinker? I doubted it was the later.
Lemon's Sorbet Disaster: An Ice Cream Shop Series Novella Page 4