“Guess ya kinda are. For today anyway,” he replied. His head nodded over toward the firepit where the second batch of barbeque chicken was cooking. “See the skinny guy in the green hat and red shirt?”
“The one holding a little girl in ponytails?” she asked.
Tough glanced over. “Yeah. He’s got a couple more little kids standing around him.”
“Yes?” she asked.
“That’s Ryan.”
“The man with cancer?” He did look thin. And tired.
“Yeah. I’ll introduce you later. His wife’s the one behind the baby stroller.”
“Oh my. Is that their baby?”
“Yeah. It’s about six months old, I think. He was diagnosed ’bout a month or so before it was born.”
Kelly’s heart hurt. “Wow. That’s rough.”
“It’s even rougher that he hasn’t been able to work because of the treatments.”
“Oh.” Kelly squinted. The wife had her hair in a ponytail, but it was a shade of orange that was kind of unforgettable. “You just fixed their car last week.”
The woman’s hair had been down the day Kelly had seen her. She had the baby with her too.
“Yeah.”
Tough didn’t say any more, and Kelly didn’t pry, but if she remembered correctly, the woman had been crying. Tough had put something white in her hand, which seemed like an odd way to hand someone a bill, but Kelly had been distracted...
Then it clicked. “You didn’t charge her.”
Tough worked the pedals and shifted into reverse. He answered without stopping. “Of course not.”
“You gave her money.”
“Might’ve.” His shoulder lifted slightly, but he kept his eyes on the track and the tractor moving.
She thought about the bags of groceries that Mr. Sigel and Al had brought in and set down in the corner. They’d disappeared.
“You gave her groceries.”
“Did I?”
“You did! You had Mr. Sigel and Al go buy her groceries.”
He let go of the steering wheel to poke her shoulder. “Nosy neighbor.”
She laughed. She had to admit she loved the feel of his muscles as he drove the tractor, and she could admire him for a long time in his jeans and work boots, but his character ran through him like a vein of gold in the Yukon. Suddenly she didn’t care that she might look like a redneck hillbilly. She leaned her head back and laughed, loud and long, a belly laugh that bubbled up from the happiest, most joyful depths of her soul. Was it possible to be happier?
“You crazy, lady?”
With the wind blowing her hair and joy spilling out of every pore of her body, she laughed again. “I am. Crazy.”
Chapter 15
They stayed until after dark. They didn’t use the fair lights, but someone had brought industrial work lights, plus several trucks, including Tough’s tow truck, had work lights attached.
Tough hadn’t realized how much better things could be with a smart and funny woman beside him. He’d thought he enjoyed his life before, but after spending the day with Kelly, it was hard to imagine anything ever being fun without her again.
They grabbed the last of the garbage bags and threw them in the back of Ralph’s truck. Most everyone else had already pulled out, leaving just Ralph and the couple who had run the food booth.
“Can’t believe we made that much money to give to Jeff. His wife couldn’t stop crying,” Ralph said as he shut the tailgate.
Tough figured she probably hadn’t stopped crying much since her husband’s diagnosis, but he didn’t say that. Just nodded.
Ralph clamped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for your help. You should treat your girl to some ice cream or something.”
Tough looked over at Kelly who had just finished helping to carry the last of the food tables to the truck. She’d helped to pack up the leftover food and send it home with Jeff’s family while he’d gotten caught up in emptying garbage cans and cleaning the bathrooms. Just before dark, it had gotten chilly, and he’d gone to his truck and given her his jacket. It stirred every possessive instinct in his caveman heart to see her wearing his coat.
“She’s a good girl,” Ralph finally said, when Tough didn’t answer.
He agreed. But he had to say, “She’s not mine.”
“Oh.” The bushy brows almost touched the ball cap Ralph wore. “You looked so comfortable together, I just thought...”
“No. Just a friend.” No matter how much he wanted it to be more.
Ralph kept watching Kelly, who laughed with the family and gave the woman a hand lifting a bulky roaster into the back of their truck. “Wish I had a ‘friend’ like that. The wife got her hair done today.”
“Take her some flowers home,” Tough said. Kelly leaned over the edge of the truck to arrange something on the bed. His jacket rode up, and his eyes lingered on her soft curves and long legs before he fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time.
Ralph rolled his eyes. “Humph. They wouldn’t be the right kind or the right color, or she’d be allergic.”
“Try candy.” Tough’s eyes tracked back to Kelly.
“She’s on a diet.”
“Tell her that her hair looks nice and wash the dishes.”
“I’m not allowed to touch the dishes because I don’t do them right.”
“Rub her feet.”
“She hates her feet. She thinks they’re ugly.”
Tough finally looked at Ralph. There had to be something. “What makes her happy?”
“Having me gone.” Ralph shrugged. “It’s why I’m here. Can’t do anything else right.”
Wow. Sometimes there was just nothing to do to help. But he’d keep trying. “Then compliment her on how nicely she does the dishes. Tell her she smells good. Tell her that her feet are beautiful especially when compared to your big, stinking, furry things.”
Ralph’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded slowly. “Guess I can try.” He shuffled off.
“Didn’t it occur to him that you’re not married?” Kelly asked, laughing, from beside him.
A shock went through Tough’s chest. That was his fear. Kelly hit it. He shrugged it off. “He was too upset to notice. Wish his wife would appreciate his effort rather than judge him because he doesn’t meet her standard.”
“You know, she might have complained only once, years ago, but he never forgot.”
“True. Men have fragile egos. And they’re very protective of them.”
Ralph drove away, waving out the window and hollering goodbye. The folks with the food tables followed, leaving Tough and Kelly alone with only the cab light which shone from his open truck door.
Kelly narrowed her eyes and seemed to study him in the light from his cab. “You seem like you know what you’re talking about.”
Tough’s own male pride wanted to shut the conversation down, but he reminded himself that Kelly had trusted him, sweetly and completely, on the tractor. He could try to trust her too. “When you don’t talk a lot, sometimes you end up hearing more.”
Her lips pursed. She nodded, tapping her lip with her finger. “I can see how that would be true.” She shook her head, her blond hair catching the light and rippling over her shoulders. Her teeth flashed. “I had a great time today. Thank you so much.” She unzipped his jacket. “Thanks for letting me borrow this.”
She moved to shrug it off, and he reached to stop her, meaning to tell her that she might want to keep it because the heater in his truck only worked half the time and he hadn’t gotten the time to fix it, would have made time if he’d realized that he’d have Kelly, but she stumbled as she moved forward. His outstretched hand slipped between her waist and the coat.
She froze. The coat fell.
He knew right away he should drop his hand, yank it back, step away. But he didn’t.
He moved forward, brought his other hand up, slid them both around her waist, feeling the warmth and the gentle arc of her hips. Pulling her closer, he str
uggled not to jerk in reaction as he felt her hands slide over his t-shirt, across his sides, and around his back. His whole body shuddered.
She froze. “Cold?”
“Frig, no.” He was burning up. On fire. He’d done the friend thing all day. All day, he’d wanted more. More than she could give. Even now, he was pushing for more, the logical part of his brain fighting to be heard over the beating of his heart that wanted to pull her tight and never let her go. His heart asked where the harm was in one little kiss. His head reminded him how very wrong that was.
He swallowed and managed to pull his hands down, resting them in the indentation of her waist, leaning back, putting another fraction of an inch between them. “I’d kill the man who touched you like this when my ring was on your finger.”
“I took it off.” Her voice floated like a wisp of fog through the air.
His hands tightened. It didn’t matter. The promise was still there. He couldn’t steal from another man.
He took a shaky breath, searching deep to find the strength to let go, back away. His feet were rooted to the ground, and his hands wouldn’t move. He lowered his head. Her breath caught. His mouth hovered just beside her cheek, so close. His body seemed powerless to do anything but move closer.
Where was the flood, the earthquake when he needed it?
At the thought of an earthquake, the story of Achan popped into his head. Achan had taken what wasn’t his and hidden it. Eventually, he was found out, and the ground had opened up and swallowed not only him but his whole family.
If he kissed Kelly, no one but she and he need know. They could hide it. It wouldn’t make it right.
He dropped his hands and backed away. Her touch slid across his back and over his hips before falling off completely. He closed his eyes against the pain of the aching desire to step back into the circle of her embrace.
Taking another shaky breath, he lifted his cap and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m a big girl, and all I had to do was say ‘stop.’”
He shoved his ball cap back down on his head. “Why didn’t you?”
She stood there, panting in the darkness for a moment before giving a little shrug with her shoulders and bending to pick up his jacket.
He cleared his throat. “You’ll want to keep that. I need to fix the heater in my truck.”
“You’ve worn nothing but a t-shirt all day because I have your jacket. It’s your turn.”
He could be standing buck naked at the South Pole with a blizzard swirling around him, and he wouldn’t be cold. Not for a very long time. “I’m not cold. Please keep it.”
Placing his hand on the open door, he asked, “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” She moved over and jumped in, careful not to touch him, and he supposed he deserved it.
They bounced over the rutted hayfield that had doubled as a parking lot today, in silence. When they pulled onto the road, he forced his tongue to work, hating the awkward silence that threatened to ruin what had been the best day of his life. “A fellow told me there’s a little store up here that makes really good pumpkin lattes. Want one?”
Seconds ticked by, and he was afraid she wasn’t going to allow his earlier almost-kiss gaffe to slide. Which surprised him because he’d thought Kelly was better than that.
“I do.” She turned and smiled at him. The smile gave him hope.
Following the directions that the man had given him earlier, Tough took a right off the main highway and headed uptown. A “For Rent” sign in a warehouse window caught his eyes.
He had never considered moving his garage to a completely different town, but why not? Thoughts of the old men who helped him tempered his consideration, but he tried to be rational. He couldn’t help anyone if he didn’t have a building. It wouldn’t hurt to check, anyway.
He glanced at the sign again before they passed it. The building was perfect, even already had a garage door opening onto the street. He needed to get away from Kelly, anyway. Every second he spent with her made him love her that much more. She was the rare kind of person who got better as one got to know them.
But he had the rest of the evening with her and didn’t want to ruin it. How could he get the number without Kelly asking why? He hadn’t wanted to ruin their day by telling her about the eviction, and he still wasn’t sure he was going to tell her because he didn’t want her to feel bad. Maybe he didn’t want to move this far away anyway.
Figuring he’d make a decision on the way home, he found the street he needed, and a couple of blocks later, he found Windy Day coffee shop, tucked between a small grocery and a day care center. It was busy, which he figured boded well for their coffee, but he had to park a block away.
“You mind walking?”
“I’ve ridden on a tractor, used the winch on your tow truck, rode in a weight sled, and even manned the food booth so Joyce could take a bathroom break. A walk down the sidewalk is nothing compared to the rest of that stuff.”
They hopped out, and he walked around.
“Now was it that bad?” he asked as he shut her door behind her and started walking beside her down the sidewalk. He wanted to take her hand, even started to. But the almost-kiss had almost turned a great day into a disaster. He couldn’t risk it again.
“No. I loved it. How soon do we get to do it again?”
“Depends. I could get called out for a tow anytime. You can come along and use the winch.”
She laughed, like he’d hoped she would, and bumped his shoulder. It took a second for him to realize that she’d slipped her hand into his. Volts of electric current shocked up through his arm, and his heart stuttered. He curved his fingers around hers, loving the feeling of connection that cradling her hand brought. He’d meant every word of what he’d said earlier. Not normally a violent man at all, he’d kill the man who touched his woman. But Kelly had taken his hand on her own. That was a little different.
They ordered coffees and a Danish and sat at a little table in the corner talking about their day and the family and nothing and everything. Finally, he checked his phone and realized two hours had gone by and he hadn’t even noticed. “It’s almost ten. I’d better get you home.”
“I can’t believe it’s that late!” Kelly exclaimed.
He couldn’t believe that he was sitting at a little table across from the most amazing, unselfish, beautiful woman in the world. Her cheeks were flushed red, and her blue eyes sparkled from the sun and breeze and a day of fun. Her hair was perfectly windblown and gave her a fresh, youthful, innocent look that a bunch of pretentious fussing would have ruined. But it was her smile, unaffected and easy, her can-do, will-try-it attitude, and her unselfish, giving heart that had stolen his.
The desire to tell her that she had his heart ripped through him, and his mouth opened. He snapped it shut immediately.
She tilted her head and regarded him curiously. “What? What were you going to say?”
“Nothing.”
Shaking her head, she laughed. “No. You are not even allowed to go there. Do you remember when we first met how you wouldn’t talk to me and wouldn’t even look at me?” She looked down at their hands which were threaded together and resting on the table. “Now look at you. You almost smiled twice today.”
“I smiled more than that. This was the best day of my life.” He stared into her eyes as he said it, meaning every word.
Her brows furrowed. “Really? Didn’t you do stuff like this with your family when you were little?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“No.”
“Tough. You’re giving me the silent treatment again.” She squeezed his fingers.
“There’d been a lot of sadness—when my dad left, when my mom got sick, when she died.” His mother dying had left a deeper hole in his heart than anything else in his life. She was the only other woman he’d ever loved, and he’d lost her.
He took a breath and plunged ahead. “Gram ha
d a lot to support. We couldn’t afford much. We made our own fun in the backyard.” He watched his thumb rub slowly over her hand.
He thought she shivered, but she held still and waited, giving him time as his eyes jumped and skipped, moving everywhere, looking at anything but hers. Too much. It was too much to talk about things he never talked about with anyone and look her in the eye too.
Finally, after a few beats of silence, he was able to force himself to meet her eyes.
Her smile had slipped; her breathing was slow. Her forehead wrinkled.
He lifted a shoulder. “We had fun. Wherever Turbo is, people are laughing.”
“Except Harris, apparently.”
He nodded at the truth of those words.
“It really hurt to lose your mom.”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t say more. He’d never talked about it with anyone. He supposed that some people might have turned to drugs or alcohol as they got older to ease the pain. He’d just walled his heart off. He’d promised his mother he wouldn’t chase women like his dad anyway.
“She must have had a beautiful heart.”
Tough shook off his own hurt. “I was blessed.”
Her eyes clouded, and he figured she was remembering her own mother.
“Do you know where she is?” he asked.
They hadn’t been talking about her mother, but her thoughts must have gone in the same direction as his because she lifted a shoulder and said, “She died. I was like, twelve, or something.”
She said it casually, like it didn’t matter, but her hand tightened in his, and he knew it did. Of course it did. It was her mother. No matter that her mother hadn’t seemed to care about her.
“If you hadn’t hooked me up with Mrs. Fitzsimmons, my life would be a lot different.”
He nodded, bringing his other hand up and lightly stroking the fingers he held.
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