Not after saying he’d help and knowing she needed something to go right when everything else had gone wrong. Whether or not he proved himself was no longer the point. This was about Taryn.
Sure, the image of being a knight in shining armor out to rescue her appealed to him at a gut level. Who didn’t want to be someone’s hero? But his armor was tarnished in her eyes. Besides, Taryn Lawson was more than capable of rescuing herself. She just needed a hand—any hand—and his was, well, handy.
Time to stop with the theatrics, even if they were only in his mind. He wasn’t being paid to stand in front of a jury, who would rather be at the grocery store or sitting in a dental chair having their teeth cleaned than in a courtroom. He was there to help someone in need.
You’re all she’s got.
At least based on what he’d heard from Margot when he’d asked if she knew others who might be able to help with Taryn’s booth this week.
His cell phone buzzed. His sister’s name showed on the screen. Perfect timing. Garrett had asked if she knew anyone, too.
Lil’ Sis: I called a few people to see if anyone else can help Taryn, but no luck.
Lil’ Sis: Rumor has it Mr. Jones from the hardware store is so behind he’s dropping out.
Lil’ Sis: So you’re it for Taryn.
Lil’ Sis: For help, I mean.
Lil’ Sis: Please don’t hurt her again.
Okay, he was the only help Taryn would have. But the last line bristled. He reread it.
Why would he hurt Taryn?
The cold temperatures, snow, and wreath on the door were long gone. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Memories of eating dinner, watching holiday movies, drinking eggnog, and kissing—no mistletoe required—would fade, as would ones they created with their newly minted friendship.
Friends.
That would appease his sister. He typed.
Garrett: Thanks for seeing if anyone else could help.
Garrett: I can’t hurt her.
Garrett: Taryn and I are just friends.
Friends who had some explosive chemistry based on when they’d accidentally touched at the bakery, but “friends” didn’t think about past or present kisses. There was no chance for future ones, so those weren’t an issue.
Lil’ Sis: Glad to hear it.
Lil’ Sis: I just want to make sure you wouldn’t screw anything up for the wedding.
Garrett: I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise.
And he would. Garrett only pushed the rules when he knew he could get away with it. He didn’t want to upset Callie or Taryn. Especially her.
Not again.
The truth was, he wished the Taryn he remembered from December would return. That woman had been all sunshine and smiles. It was time to bring out her dimples.
With a goal in mind, Garrett pressed the doorbell.
A chime announced his arrival, and the door opened less than a minute later.
“Hello.” Taryn had changed out of her white baker’s outfit and into a pair of blue shorts and a green T-shirt with paint stains.
He stared at her legs.
Why hadn’t he noticed them before?
They went on forever. Okay, he’d been here in winter when it was snowing, but she should move to a warmer climate so she could show them off year-round.
“Garrett?”
Oops. A friend probably shouldn’t stare at another friend’s legs.
His gaze jerked to her pretty face. No dimples or grin, but those would come. That was why he was here. Couldn’t forget that.
“I’m here. Ready to get started.” He fought the urge to cringe. So much for being an eloquent orator.
Her gaze ran the length of him. Her expression pinched. “You’re not wearing grubbies.”
She wasn’t wrong. His wardrobe came from a high-end department store where a personal shopper selected outfits for him. “This is as casual as I packed.”
She motioned him inside. “I’ll paint, so you don’t stain your clothes.”
He stepped into the house, cold air surrounding him. Her sugary scent held a touch of lemon now. He didn’t know what refreshed him more—the temperature or the way she smelled.
“Everything’s set up in the backyard.” Taryn headed toward the kitchen. “We can work on the patio. It’s covered and will be cooler in the shade.”
Garrett forced himself not to stare at her legs. A friend could look, but leering would be creepy. He glanced around her house instead.
An overstuffed chair and ottoman were where the Christmas tree had been. Food magazines and cookbooks sat on the coffee table. Otherwise, it was the same as he remembered from his last visit.
He stepped into the kitchen. On the table were shopping bags with garlands and other items. Decorations for the booth?
Taryn grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and handed one to him. “Stay hydrated. Margot and Callie will never forgive me if you suffer heat exhaustion.”
The bottle cooled his palm. “I live in Southern California. I’m used to hot weather.”
“But how often do you work outside?”
She had a point. He unscrewed the lid and took a sip. “Might as well cool off from my walk over here.”
“There are more water bottles in here. Help yourself when you need another.”
When not if. That brought a smile. He hadn’t noticed Taryn’s caretaker side before, but a nurturer who also baked and kissed like a dream was a perfect combination. Well, if he was in the market for either of those things. Which he wasn’t.
He drank more. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“I try.” Taryn opened the sliding door, letting in a wall of heat. “Mr. Jones pre-cut the wood I ordered, but I set up the saw in case we need to make adjustments. Each section of the design has a pile with all its parts, so nothing gets lost.”
“Good idea to be organized.” Garrett stepped outside.
His mouth fell open. This wasn’t organized. She’d made mini production lines with tarps beneath each of her “piles.” He thought he was good at planning, but Taryn took it to the next level.
She closed the door.
“You’ve been busy.” That was putting it mildly. She’d assembled the square pop-up tent. Two rectangular tables sat underneath. He scratched his head. “When do you sleep?”
“I’m usually up before the sun, even on my days off, so I don’t throw off my body clock.” She walked to a large sheet of plywood cut in half and painted forest green. A paper with the design lay next to it, along with a hammer and nails. “This piece needs three supports added. It goes against the front of the table, but I like to make sure the pieces are solid and won’t fall.”
He picked up the paper and scanned the instructions. The supports were triangular-shaped and made from two-by-fours. Sandbags would sit inside them. “The weight keeps it steady.”
“They shouldn’t fall forward, which would be a problem with kids and pets running around. Sometimes the wind kicks up when you least expect it. We can’t be too careful.”
Taryn would be a wonderful mom.
Whoa. Garrett took a step away from her. Where had that come from?
She stared at the supplies at his feet as if mentally cataloging the items in case she forgot something.
“I’m sure everything is there.” He couldn’t imagine anything missing, given how organized she was.
“If not, or if you need me to hold the plywood, let me know.” She spoke fast, suggesting she was nervous, but he didn’t want to make her feel self-conscious or uncomfortable.
“Will do.” Garrett expected Taryn to walk away to whatever she’d be working on, but she didn’t. He waved the sheet of paper. “I’ve got this. If I need help, I’ll ask.”
“Do you need gloves?”
“Not for this.” If Garrett needed any, he would buy a pair at the hardware store on the way to his sister’s tonight. Speaking of which, he set his phone alarm so he wouldn’t be la
te for dinner.
Taryn picked up a piece of wire fencing. He had no idea what she would do with that or the two pool noodles on top of the tarp, but he wanted to find out.
As she made a cylinder, her tongue stuck out between her lips.
She was a portrait in concentration—a cute one. Which had nothing to do with what she was working on.
Taryn glanced his way, catching his eye. “Have a question?”
“Nope.” If Garrett said more, he would incriminate himself. One support was halfway finished. Was that what led to the hammer mishap? He would start with it.
Garrett had built nothing since last summer, but he quickly found his rhythm. He took water breaks and wiped the sweat from his forehead, which was worse from his walk over, but soon he had the three supports constructed and attached to the board.
He stood before pressing against it. “This seems sturdy, even without the sandbags.”
“See what happens when you push the other way.”
He did, and the piece fell forward and thudded against the tarp. That would hurt if it hit someone. “The supports are an excellent idea. Where do you want this?”
“In front of the table, so we’ll get a feel for how this will look.”
As he carried the panel to the pop-up tent, a pssst sound caught his attention.
Taryn sprayed the first wire cylinder with plastic sealant. Long strips of foam came out.
He tried to picture what she was making with it—tried and failed.
“It might appear to be globs.” She added more between the others. “But it’ll look like a tree trunk when I’m finished.”
“I didn’t know you were a mind reader.”
“I’m not, but you looked the way I felt the first time I tried this, but thankfully the instructions I downloaded worked. No Pinterest fail with this.”
Garrett had to ask. “Your wording suggests you’ve suffered at least one fail in the past?”
“Maybe.” Her tone was playful. Taryn didn’t smile, but she wasn’t frowning.
That was a start. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
She shot a sideward glance his way. “I didn’t realize attorneys have such active imaginations.”
“Many bestselling authors started as lawyers.” He tapped his chin with his finger. “You’ve got me curious now. Was your fail baking-related?”
She gasped before side-eyeing him. “Are you kidding me?”
He chuckled at her indignation. “I’ll take that as a no. So what was it?”
Taryn hesitated. Two lines formed above her nose. “Why do you want to know?”
“To prove you’re human and not a robot who does everything from baking to decorating perfectly.”
She laughed, a melodic sound he’d forgotten about but which brought back a memory of them making snow angels in this backyard. They’d shared some good times over the holidays.
“I wish, but I’m far from perfect.” She sprayed more lines of sealant. “If you don’t believe me, ask my dad.”
Garrett had never met her father, but if the man had Taryn doubting herself, he didn’t want to. “You still haven’t told me your fail.”
She lowered the can. “I wanted to make a string balloon art for the bakery’s front window. The result didn’t come close to resembling the photo in the instructions. Imagine the ugliest, abstract pieces of stiff string and multiply them by a thousand. We’re talking an epic fail.”
“That bad?”
“I still have nightmares about how it turned out.”
“Got pics?”
She shook her head. “I deleted them.”
That didn’t surprise him. Taryn threw her entire self into every project, whether for the bakery, a friend, or even a stranger. “You don’t like to fail.”
“Does anyone?”
“No, but we learn from our mistakes.” Garrett had.
“I learned plenty.” She held up her hand and counted off on her fingers. “Never trust an image. Double-check the instructions. Make a prototype first. String art is overrated.”
He laughed. “I take it you never tried again.”
“Nope. I ended up not decorating, and no one noticed.”
His alarm beeped. He shut it off. “The time went fast.”
Taryn shrugged. “You know what they say about having fun.”
“This has been fun.” He glanced at his phone in case he had more time. “I wish I could stay and do more.”
“You need to be at Callie’s with your family.”
He did. They were discussing the wedding and assigning jobs. Since he was here, he would have some say. Flynn and Keaton would be told what to do, having no input. Still, Garrett hated leaving Taryn on her own. “How late will you work tonight?”
“However long it takes.” If Taryn wanted to sound lighthearted, she failed. Not only her tone, but the lines on her forehead. “Not all night.”
He wasn’t sure he believed her. If he returned, that might not happen. The patio had a light. Perhaps that would illuminate the area enough tonight. “I’ll stop by after dinner and see if you’re still at it.”
“I’d appreciate that.” She motioned to the side of the house. “Don’t ring the doorbell. I won’t hear it if I’m out here. Come through the gate.”
He could do that. “What’s the keycode or combination?”
“It’s open.”
“You should have a lock at the minimum. Some type of security device or anyone can enter your backyard without permission.”
She laughed. “Silver Falls is nothing like the big city.”
No place was immune to troublemakers. “Even small towns have crime. Drug issues. Thefts.”
“This place has had all three and more, but I’m safe here.”
Her confidence might backfire someday, but he wasn’t her keeper. Still… “Please tell me you lock your front door.”
“I do, and my slider, too.”
That was a relief. “Callie and Margot have locks on their side gates.”
“They have dogs.” Taryn’s matter-of-fact tone didn’t loosen the tightness across his chest.
He wanted her to be safe. “It could be for other reasons, too.”
“Look up the crime rate in Silver Falls. You’ll be surprised.”
Been there, done that. “I did when Callie moved here.”
“She mentioned her brothers were overprotective.”
“We love her and want her to be safe.” Garrett also had a detective friend check out the police department to ensure nothing hinky was going on, but only his brothers knew that. “I still recommend locking the doors and securing the gate. You might install cameras and automatic lights.”
“If a crime spree hits Silver Falls, I’ll consider it.” Taryn checked the foam she’d sprayed. “You should take off before you’re late.”
He should. His family was expecting him. Yet his feet remained planted as if glued to the patio.
“Go,” she encouraged. “You’ve saved my hand from the hammer. Enjoy your dinner and have fun.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Garrett meant it, even if he had to sneak out of Callie’s before she served dessert. He had a feeling Taryn would have sweets around here. And returning sooner rather than later might earn him points with her. For what, he didn’t know.
But it couldn’t hurt.
Chapter Eight
Wednesday, Taryn woke to see nothing but darkness outside her window. Not unusual, but she hadn’t expected to start the day as if she were a light and airy fresh-from-the-oven croissant. She should be more tired after working past midnight with Garrett, but the progress they’d made took some pressure off her.
She stretched her arms over her head and pointed her toes.
If they completed as much work today, they would finish the booth on time. Perhaps even early.
A thrill shot through her with a chaser of relief.
Not only about the fair, but about Garrett. Were things comfy and cozy between them, like
at Christmastime? Nope, but the awkwardness wasn’t as bad as it had been at the bakery. Sure, tension remained, but that hadn’t stopped him from working hard. She needed to thank him for his help.
Without him returning after his dinner, she would have pulled an all-nighter. He was making her life so much easier. Not to mention giving her something tasty to look at on her breaks.
Just friends.
But her new friend was gorgeous and, as a baker, it was her occupational duty to investigate delicious things. Or person, in this instance.
She climbed out of bed, grabbed panties, a sports bra, her oldest pair of shorts, and another stained T-shirt. Today, she would paint more, so there was no reason to wear anything nicer.
Wasn’t Garrett reason enough?
She ignored the little voice in her head. Friends didn’t dress up for each other when they were building stuff. And if they weren’t working, he wouldn’t be here.
End of story.
In the kitchen, she turned on the coffeepot and made a coffee cake.
For Garrett?
That voice wouldn’t leave her alone. “Yes, it’s for him.”
The least Taryn could do was feed him while he worked. That was the polite thing to do. Plus, she needed to eat, too.
As the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, she placed the pan in the oven and set the timer. Garrett had a call with his office at eight o’clock and would be over after that. In the meantime, she would have breakfast ready and paint until he arrived.
It almost sounds like a date.
No, it didn’t.
A meal between friends, that was all.
Friends.
She had friends she’d known her entire life, growing up in Silver Falls. She’d also made friends with the new-to-town First Avenue business shop owners, including Raine Hanover from Tea Leaves and Coffee Beans and Callie Andrews and her groomer, Anna Kent, at Wags and Tails. But none had ever gone out of their way for her like Garrett had. A friend had also never stared at her as much as he did. Not that she hadn’t snuck a few peeks at him.
And now, as his friend, she needed to make sure he ate.
After a quick cup of coffee, Taryn headed outside. It was still dark, but the patio light allowed her to see. Her first task involved painting the two cylinders covered in dried foam to give a tree-like appearance. With a brush in hand, she grabbed a can of brown paint, a shade lighter than what she’d used last night. By the time she finished, fingers of purple, orange, and pink rose from the horizon, spreading out across the dawning sky.
A Slice of Summer Page 7