Understanding dawned, and with it something sweet bloomed in the middle of the mayhem that filled her chest. That sweetness spread until her heart finally settled into its rightful place beneath her breastbone, beating a more even rhythm.
She’d heard of do-overs. She was about to experience her first one.
She opened the door and once again found Cole standing on the top step. One corner of his mouth was lifted in a small smile. It was the first smile he’d ever given her, and it was beguiling.
Folding her arms, she heaved a sigh. “I wouldn’t blame you if you ran. I’m a basket case,” she said.
He made a sound through his pursed lips that spoke volumes. And then, holding her gaze, he said, “I’m Cole Cavanaugh.”
She got lost for a moment in his brown eyes.
“I beg your pardon? What’s that you said? You’re April Avery? It’s nice to meet you, April.” He paused again. “Feel free to speak louder whenever you’re ready. It sounded as though you said you could use a friend. I’d like that, too.”
She didn’t know whether to sniffle or smile, and wound up doing both. “You want to be my friend?” she said.
“Are you asking?” he said.
Then and there, she learned something about Cole Cavanaugh. Her sister, Marilee, would have said he was a wise guy. April agreed. Cole also happened to be among that rare breed of men known as heroes. She supposed that made him a wise guy hero. It wasn’t an unattractive combination. He wasn’t an unattractive man. In fact, he was one of the most attractive men she’d ever met, and it went deeper than flesh and bone.
“I guess I am asking,” she said.
“Friends,” he said, holding out his hand for a handshake.
“Yes,” she agreed. She placed her hand in his. As his fingers engulfed hers, she felt a little thrum and an unexplainable connection. Her heart fluttered up into her throat again. Now it didn’t scare her, for they had an understanding.
They were friends.
He carried his laptop to the table and she started a pot of coffee. Since there was no time to don contacts, she ran to her bedroom and took her glasses from their case in the drawer in her nightstand. Back in the kitchen, she poured two cups of coffee and carried them both to the table where she lowered into a chair.
He was busily opening some program or other, his eyes on the screen. It awarded her an opportunity to study him.
He had an angular face, a straight nose, dark brows and darker eyelashes. There was a faint tiny white scar above his upper lip she hadn’t noticed before. She wondered if he’d gotten it in a fight or from something as innocent as falling on the playground when he was a child.
He glanced up. Finding her looking at him, he said, “Anything wrong?”
She shook her head before taking a sip of her coffee. It was true that she felt a stirring of interest to know more about him, but she didn’t have to know everything today. Now that they were friends, she could take her time in that regard.
He brought up the 3-D rendering of the new floor plan he’d surely worked on most of the night, and they both turned their attention to the renovation project. Leaning forward, her elbows on the table, she studied the computer screen. The plan had been completely revised and now contained two nearly identical bedrooms where there had been one enormous master suite. A large bathroom connected the two bedrooms.
He’d thought of every detail from floors to ceilings, closets to bath fixtures. She wondered how long he’d worked on this last night. “You couldn’t have gotten a lot of sleep, either.”
He shook his head, but in what she was coming to recognize as his nature, no more information was forthcoming. “What do you think?” he said instead. “Is this what you had in mind for Grace’s and Violet’s bedrooms?”
There was no reason on God’s green earth for her to suddenly need to blink away tears. Except this wasn’t the way she and Jay had dreamed the upstairs would be one day. Sadly Jay wasn’t here, and she needed to be strong and build a future for their children by herself now. These bedrooms with their sloping ceilings, wide plank floors, dormer windows and ample closets, along with an enormous bathroom with two sinks and heated floors, were going to be perfect for Grace and Violet as they grew up.
“April?”
She looked at Cole, and realized he’d asked her a question. “Pardon me?” she said.
“Would you like to take a few days to look this over?”
“No, thanks. I don’t need a few days. I love the new design. What’s next?”
“Next, I’ll measure again to be certain I have the dimensions correct. After I review the materials list, I’ll go down to the zoning office and pull permits, and then I’ll order materials. I need to touch base with my partner in Rochester about a project back home, and then I’ll order a dumpster to be delivered here for debris. As soon as I have the proper permits and the materials, I’ll be ready to begin.”
“There must be something for me to sign.”
He nodded. “I’ll print an agreement for both of us to sign if you wish.”
“How long do you expect it will take you to finish the project?” she asked.
“Four weeks. A little less if the subcontractors Riley Merrick recommended can fit us into their schedules between other jobs. It seems he has pull in the area.”
She asked several questions about the plan, the bathroom, closets and paint versus stain, and he brought up several pictures of bathtubs and vanities and tiles and lighting fixtures on his computer. After she’d chosen her favorites, he closed his laptop and asked if she had any more questions.
“I can’t think of any.”
He went upstairs by himself. Sitting at the table sipping her coffee, she could hear footsteps overhead. Soon he was back again. They spoke for a few moments, but she could see he was eager to be on his way so he could get started. He was at the door when she said, “Cole?”
He turned slowly, and she found herself putting his lanky build and the way he moved to memory. “Yes?” he asked.
He wore fitted beige chinos that sat below his waist and a shirt that matched the coffee color of his hair. His watchband, belt and shoes were all worn brown leather. He was easy on her eyes. That was all there was to it.
“Do you have many women friends?” she asked.
He took his time considering his reply. “As of today, I have one. What about you?”
“I have lots of women friends.”
That wasn’t what he’d meant, but he laughed, and it reminded her of a car that hadn’t been started in years. When it came to simple pleasures, he was out of practice.
“I’ll be back sometime later today,” he said. “I’m not sure what time.”
He left her with a smile she wouldn’t soon forget.
Expecting Gracie and Violet to wake up any minute, she stared out the window. Four weeks, she thought. That was how long Cole expected the project to take. After that, he would return to his life in New York.
Maybe during the next four weeks he would learn to laugh more readily. And maybe she would discover that the thought of him leaving didn’t dim the light illuminating her way out of the dark tunnel she’d been in these past fourteen months. More than anything, maybe she would realize the idea she’d already fallen a little in love with him was just a dream she’d wake up from.
Because falling in love with Cole Cavanaugh was a heartache waiting to happen. She felt it to the tips of her toes.
* * *
On Monday Cole procured the proper permits and ordered materials. On Tuesday he oversaw the delivery of the dumpster and lumber and other building supplies. After that he tore out the old insulation and threw it out the upstairs window and into the waiting trash receptacle below.
The physical labor had been good for him, and he’d fallen asleep early last night, only to awaken with a jolt before 3:00 a.
m. It wasn’t a dream that had awakened him. It was desire for April.
And that was strictly out of the question. They’d reestablished their relationship as friends. And he’d promised himself he wouldn’t so much as attempt to take Jay’s place in her heart or in her life.
He’d stared at the ceiling, tossed and turned, willed himself to go back to sleep, tried reading, tried watching TV. Now, at long last, it was Wednesday morning. The sun was up, birds were singing, and everywhere, people were starting their day. Leaving his truck idling at the curb in front of April’s house, he drove a stake into her front yard and stapled the proper work permit to it. Returning to his truck, he pulled into the driveway and parked behind the waiting stack of lumber.
Early in his career he’d built decks and roofs and later, additions and, eventually, entire houses with a small crew and his own two hands. Gradually, he and Grant had employed their own subcontractors, skilled craftsmen who did rough-in and finish carpentry. He’d already contacted subs for the electrical, plumbing and flooring on April’s remodel. Still, he would be doing much of the physical labor himself, and it was going to feel good to be building again, to be creating something lasting by the sweat of his brow and the strength of his hands.
Leaving the windows down, he got out of his truck and started for the side door. Mouthwatering aromas greeted him before he was halfway to the house.
He knocked on the screen door and heard April call, “It’s open, Cole. Come on in.”
Alone in the kitchen, he saw the pan of breakfast casserole and cinnamon rolls first and the coffee second. He was taking his first sip of freshly brewed coffee when his gaze landed on the table where four places had been set, as if for a family. Yearning welled inside him. He scalded his tongue and swore under his breath.
Another cup of coffee steamed from one place setting, a pink lip print on the rim. He was about to put his coffee cup down and get to work, but a movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to the doorway where Gracie and Violet hovered.
“How do you two take your coffee?” he said. “Black or with cream and sugar?”
Violet giggled behind her hand. “We can’t have coffee, silly. We’re four.”
“We’re almost five,” Gracie corrected.
“That so?” he said, hoping his tone was cajoling. “When is your birthday?”
She skewed her little bow mouth to one side in concentration. “It’s the same day as Violet’s,” she answered cleverly.
He laughed. And although it sounded as creaky as old door hinges, it felt good.
Just then, April bustled into the kitchen. “Good morning,” she called. “I see you found the coffee.”
She handed him a signed copy of the agreement he’d drawn up. Smiling at him with her eyes, she took a sip from her own mug and set it back down again. “Breakfast is ready,” she said.
If the delicious-smelling cinnamon rolls and breakfast casserole cooling on top of the stove and the bowl of fresh fruit on the table was an accurate indicator, she’d been up for hours. She wasn’t wearing glasses this morning and had secured her hair high on the back of her head in some sort of loose knot. Already several tendrils had escaped to wave freely around her face and collar. She wore a white summer top and a skirt in swirling shades of gray, and moved with the economy of motion of those born with the ability to do a dozen things at once.
Gracie and Violet scrambled onto their chairs, but Cole didn’t move. Smiling again, April said, “Go ahead and have a seat.”
“Nothing for me.” He must have spoken gruffly, because even the twins looked up at him.
“You’ve already eaten?” April asked, two lines forming between her eyes.
He’d had a protein bar at five, but that wasn’t the point. He just couldn’t let himself sit in Jay’s seat. There wasn’t anything he could do about his desire for her. He’d promised not to get romantically involved with her, and there was something inherently intimate about sharing breakfast.
Casting a pointed glance at the fourth place setting at the table, he said, “I have equipment to unload from the truck.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked out the door. Taking a deep calming breath of fresh August air, he opened the back of his truck and dragged a heavy power saw to the tailgate.
Hefting it into his arms, he turned and swore softly, for he almost ran headlong into April. She squinted up at him in the dappled shade, but she held her ground, her arms folded stubbornly, her chin raised.
“What?” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “You stole my line.”
He set the heavy saw back on the tailgate. Now that his hands were free, they wound up on his hips. “I have work to do, April.”
“I can see that. But now that we’ve become friends and all,” she said sarcastically, “maybe you would care to tell me what I did to thoroughly tick you off.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Then what is it?”
“You don’t need to feed me, that’s all.”
“I feed all my friends. Ask them if you don’t believe me.” She looked at him as if daring him to tell her what had gotten his back up.
When a retired couple walking their dog called, “Good morning, April,” she waved good-naturedly. Obviously, she was only mad at him, not the world.
“Do you seat all your friends in Jay’s place, too?” he asked.
She moved as if thrust backward by a strong gust of wind. The look in her eyes made him feel like something he stepped in.
“We don’t have assigned seats,” she said. “We never have.”
His vehemence drained out of him like air from a leaky valve. He’d overreacted, which was the mother of all understatements. Promise or no promise, it wasn’t going to be easy to maintain a friendship when he wanted so much more. Running a hand down his face, he studied her.
Her eyes were wide-open and golden brown, her cheeks pink, her sleeveless shirt white and summery and feminine. She looked pretty and dewy. And hurt. He owed her an explanation and an apology. He’d never been good at asking for forgiveness. It ranked right up there with ramming a rusty nail through his hand.
In a voice he barely recognized, he said, “Before Jay died, I had a dream.”
She watched him closely. “A nightmare?”
He nodded. “I was awake a lot last night.” There was no sense telling her the reason he’d awakened at three. “I had a nightmare, but I thought a lot about Jay, too.”
“And did your dream have something to do with Jay?”
“It has me feeling off this morning. I’m sorry.”
Shading her eyes with one hand, she looked up at him. “I find it interesting neither of us slept well last night. Maybe the next time will be better. We’re some pair, aren’t we?”
He had nothing to say to that.
“Except we’re not a pair, are we?” she asked.
This time he shook his head.
“But we are friends.” He didn’t know why she stumbled on the wording, but she continued. “And like my other friends, you’re welcome to the food I prepare these next four weeks. I enjoy cooking and I love to bake. You don’t need to ask or wait for me to offer. It brings me pleasure to know my friends enjoy my culinary creations.”
She started away from him. Speaking over her shoulder, she said, “Just help yourself. Feel free to eat at the table, in your truck or standing on your head.”
With a lift of her chin that had humph written all over it, she walked regally toward the house. Cole stood in the dappled shade of an enormous maple tree and watched until she disappeared inside.
The door bounced shut, bringing the morning’s misunderstanding to a close. The sun was already hot and the humidity was rising fast. It was going to be another scorcher. He unloaded his saws and power tools, donned his favorite tool belt an
d set up the sawhorses near the stack of lumber in the driveway. All the while he pictured himself standing on his head.
He hadn’t done that in years. He honestly doubted if he could now, but the thought of it made him feel young, almost carefree.
Or perhaps April should get the credit for that.
Chapter Seven
Other than catching a glimpse of April pushing Gracie and Violet on the swings, Cole didn’t see her again the rest of Wednesday morning. From time to time he heard the twins laughing, and at one point he smelled something mouthwatering and sweet. Around noon the garage door went up and then down.
When he made a pass through the kitchen on his way outside for more supplies, the house was utterly quiet. April and the girls must have gone out. There was a pan of something cooling on the counter. Next to it was a small gleaming plate, knife and fork.
Back upstairs, he tuned an old radio to a local station and concentrated on his work. By three o’clock he’d insulated the entire ceiling and had started on one wall.
Gracie and Violet were playing outside the next time he went down for more insulation. After hefting a cumbersome roll onto one shoulder, he turned around and saw April walking toward him, a tall glass in each hand.
Wearing blue today, she stopped directly in his path and said, “I noticed you found a slice of caramel apple coffee cake.”
“Actually, I found two slices,” he admitted a little sheepishly as he lowered the bundle back to the ground.
Careful not to touch her fingers, he took the glass she held out to him, but he couldn’t seem to refrain from looking at her mouth as she sipped her lemonade. What was there about her that instilled this sense of urgency and yearning for something he couldn’t even name? Whatever it was, he’d felt it from the other side of the world before he’d even met her.
“What’s your favorite color?”
He started. “Pardon me?”
“Your favorite color. I was just wondering what it is.”
He sipped his beverage but made no reply.
A Man 0f His Word (Round-The-Clock Brides Book 4) Page 10