“She had a good sense of humor.”
“The best. She was usually one step ahead of me, but not this time. She expected me to admit I didn’t know how to play that silly thing, but I decided to make her pay.” He laced his hands over his stomach and laughed, his eyes shining. “I told the whole family that she was right and I was a maestro accordion player. After dinner, I launched into the biggest bunch of grinding notes you ever heard. Just to make it authentic, I even sang a bit, screeched like an owl giving birth to a coffee table.”
Evan laughed. “Ouch!”
Doyle chuckled. “You should have seen their faces. They looked as if they were all in pain, but because Barbara and I were their hosts, they acted as if they enjoyed it. It was all Barbara could do not to burst out laughing, but she managed and led the applause. Even asked for an encore.”
“No one called you out on it?”
“Not a single person. Barbara’s family are good people, the whole lot of them, but too polite by far. Later that night, after we were alone, Barbara and I laughed until we cried about everyone’s reaction. From then on, every time her family got together, she’d suggest I bring out the accordion. It got to be too much for her relatives, though, and they started finding reasons why I shouldn’t. One time, after the family weekend was over, we found that accordion hidden behind a couch in the den.” The old man laughed. “Lord, the times we had, Barbara and I.”
Evan looked past Doyle to the glistening water. “And then there was the day she drove poor Gertrude into the pond.”
Doyle followed Evan’s gaze, his smile widening. “That was during a spackling-the-walls phase. After all was said and done, it was worth it.”
Evan wondered how much his and Jess’s marriage was worth. A hell of a lot. “Thanks, Doyle. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
The old man’s shaggy gray eyebrows rose. “If you decide you need an accordion in order to win Miss Jess back with a love song, I might have one to sell you.”
Evan grinned. “I bet you do. Thanks for the advice, Doyle. Getting Jess back was feeling like an impossible task until we had this little talk. She’s been throwing up walls faster than I can tear them down.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Doyle carried the lamp into the closet, moving a pair of pliers off the old workbench before resting his project on the scarred, wooden surface. “If I were a betting man, I’d bet on you.”
“You have a lot more faith in me than I do.”
“Pssht. Even a blind hog can find an acorn now and then.”
“Thanks,” Evan said dryly.
“You’re welcome. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. Meanwhile, you’d best grab you some breakfast while you can. That coffee won’t stay hot forever.” With a wink, the old man picked up a screwdriver and started to work.
Evan looked at the lobby. Through the window, he could see the top of Jess’s head where she sat at her computer, queen of her spreadsheets. And of me, too.
Doyle was one hundred percent right. The crack in Evan’s and Jess’s relationship was deep, and it would take more than mere spackle to fix it. Now was not the time for mere words. Now was the time for action, something far bigger than sanding a few pieces of furniture.
He turned to tell Doyle goodbye, but the handyman was nowhere to be seen, the lamp abandoned on the workbench. Evan frowned and stepped into the closet, but it was empty.
How had Doyle gotten out of the closet without using the door? Evan was still standing there, trying to figure it out, when his grumbling stomach reminded him that breakfast was only a few yards away. Shrugging, Evan left the closet, closing the door behind him. There must be another door somewhere.
Hungry and anxious to see Jess, he headed for the lobby, Doyle and the closet forgotten.
Evan went inside, his gaze instantly locking on Jess. “Good morning.”
She didn’t look up from her computer. “Morning.”
He noticed the stack of folders at her elbow, the ever-present row of family photos watching over her as she worked.
“Looks like it’s going to be a nice day,” he said.
“Uhm hm.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard.
Undaunted, Evan poured himself a cup of coffee and helped himself to some breakfast. Today, there were three fresh bagels in a basket, as well as fluffy scrambled eggs, sausage, and some deliciously browned breakfast potatoes. He helped himself and sat at the table, the lone guest in a luxurious lobby.
As he ate, he watched Jess. He could just see her from the shoulders up, but even that was inspiring. Her thick black hair was pulled into a ponytail that covered the nape of her neck. He remembered how she used to love it when he kissed her there, how she would shiver and moan. An answering flash of heat raced through him, so strong that he had to bite his lip to calm his body. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever met. Then and now and forever.
Doyle’s right. I have to do something big.
Evan put down his fork, pushed away his plate, picked up his coffee cup, and carried it to the counter. He tried to think of a scintillating topic to start a conversation, but nothing came. How did one begin a conversation that one wanted to end with “we belong together”?
Maybe he shouldn’t say anything at all. Maybe he should just—
“What are you doing?”
He realized she was looking over her shoulder at him. He pointed to his cup. “I’m drinking my coffee.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Right.” She turned her chair to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re staring.”
Okay, fine. He was staring. A lot. “You’re worth staring at.”
“Great. What do you want?”
You. A future. Some promise that this will all work out and we’ll be together forever, the way we were meant to be. “For now, I’d settle for dinner.”
Her frown was instant. “That’s not part of our bargain. Besides, we had dinner the first night you were here.”
“But that meatloaf. I’ve been dreaming about it ever since and I’d like some more.” Which was a lie. Not that the meatloaf wasn’t terrific. It had been. But meatloaf wasn’t his goal. “To be honest, I’m tired of having pizza by myself every single night. How about we go back to the café this evening? I know it’s not meatloaf night, but I expect there will be something equally tasty on that menu.”
She was tempted. He saw it in her eyes, in the way her gaze flickered past him to her truck, as if she were asking herself what could possibly go wrong. Whatever “wrong” was, she apparently figured it out, because her eyes held a hint of regret as she said, “I can’t, but you’re welcome to borrow the truck if you want.”
He tried again. “It’s more than dinner. I would like to get to know Dove Pond better. Why don’t you show me around and explain why you love it here so much.” He shrugged. “Maybe then I’d understand what makes this place better than Atlanta.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “You don’t like small towns.”
“Which is why I’m curious about what makes this one so special. That was your word, by the way—‘special.’”
She eyed him for a long moment, and then shook her head. “You’ve only got two more days here and then you’re leaving. I’m sorry, Evan, but I don’t have time to be your tour guide.” She turned her chair back toward the computer and was soon working again.
Evan found himself staring at the back of her head, at the silken shine of her hair, and the delicate line of her neck. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Doyle saying, Don’t try. Do.
Fine. He’d do, then. “So…I should be done with that dresser and the two nightstands today. They’re ready to stain.”
She didn’t even look up. “And?”
“And I noticed that there was another dresser in the shed. A large one. An ornate one. One with tons of tiny wooden embellishments.”
She froze in her seat, her fingers still over the keyboard as she stared straight ahead. “So?”
At least she was listening to him. That was a start. “So maybe I could be convinced to refinish it, too.”
She slowly turned her chair back in his direction, her gaze suspicious. “It’s a complex piece.”
“I noticed that. There are more carved angels on that dresser than the Vatican.”
“It’s for Ti Adoro, the Italian-themed room.”
Ti Adoro. The words meant “I adore you” in Italian. He found himself remembering a trip from long ago. The day after he’d signed the papers for his first merger, he and Jess had taken a celebratory trip to Italy. It was their fourth anniversary and Italy had been a dream destination for both of them. At the time, Evan had been working so many fifteen-hour days trying to close the deal that he’d slept through most of their first day. But after that, he’d thrown himself into their vacation.
The next two days had been perfect. They’d stayed at a villa on the outskirts of Florence and had spent two glorious days wandering hand in hand through cobblestone streets savoring perfectly made gelato and shopping in luxury shops. That part of the trip might have been perfect, but the very next day, he’d gotten a call from work about a late complication that threatened to derail the entire merger. He’d tried to handle it by phone, fielding dozens of calls and sending email after email, but eventually he was forced to admit that he needed to address the issue in person. So he’d flown home early, leaving Jess behind.
He’d hoped to return a day or two later but although he’d resolved the biggest issue, he didn’t trust the situation enough to leave again. To make up for his absence, he’d offered to fly Jess’s sisters to join her, but neither of them had been able to make it. As a result, Jess had ended up staying in Italy by herself for the rest of their vacation. How did I ever think that was okay?
“Evan?”
He blinked, yanking his mind back to the present. “Sorry. I was just thinking about our Italy trip.”
Her eyes darkened. “The best two days of my life, followed by the worst five days.”
He winced. “I meant to come right back, but the deal—”
“Right, right. It was in danger. You had to save it. I’ll think about your offer to do the other dresser. Thanks.” She turned back to her computer.
He was left staring at the back of her head again, feeling as low as a dead ant. The cracks in this foundation are deep, damn it. And I made every one of them. “Jess, let me do this. I’ve gotten pretty good at sanding. You’ve seen that.”
She sighed and tilted her head back. He suspected she was staring at the ceiling and mouthing “Just go away!” or something equally disheartening.
“So,” he continued doggedly, “I’ll do that other dresser. It’s the least I can do to thank you for putting up with me this week.”
She pushed herself away from the computer and stood, looking none too pleased. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s no need for this. You did great work on the other pieces of furniture—”
“And enjoyed every minute.” At her obvious disbelief, he said, “It was nice to fix something with my own two hands. Something more immediate and touchable than a company report.”
His answer seemed to surprise her. “You enjoyed it?”
“My back is a bit sore, and I have splinters where I shouldn’t. Plus I’m pretty sure the FBI will never be able to get decent fingerprints from me, should the need arise, but it was fun.”
Her lips quirked. “Really?”
“Really.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “Ti Adoro was the name of the villa we rented in Italy. I may have messed up that trip, but I’m not going to mess up this dresser.” Or us, ever again.
“Evan, I—”
“You’ll see. It’ll be perfect. Just like the bureau and the night stands I did yesterday. You have to admit my work has far surpassed your expectations.”
The line of her mouth softened yet more. “You did a good job on those.”
“Good?” he scoffed. “They were flawless. Picture-perfect. Immaculate—”
She burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Easy there. It wasn’t brain surgery.”
His soul flew at the sound of her laughter, and he wondered if he could fill the cracks in their relationship with laughter and new memories. Maybe. Just maybe.
At least now he understood what Doyle had meant about doing and not just trying. Jess didn’t need to hear any more platitudes or promises. What she needed was proof that Evan was serious about making their marriage his main focus, something he should have done long ago.
He leaned against the counter, his smile answering hers. “Let me finish the dresser that’s left. You might as well. I’m right here, and I’m bored to death.”
“Don’t you have phone calls to make, important meetings to call into, contracts to review—stuff like that?”
“I did, but not now.” With one elbow still on the counter, he pulled out his phone, found his draft email to Ashley, and hit send. “There. I’m off.”
Jess’s eyebrows rose. “Off what? Your rocker?”
“Off work. I’m officially on vacation. And not just for one day, either. I took the rest of the week off.”
“You did not.”
“I did. I told Ashley to handle any problems that might come up because I wouldn’t be available until Monday. Here, look.” He held up his phone so Jess could see the screen.
She read the email and her eyes widened. “That’s the most un-Evan Graham thing you’ve ever done. Ash must be wondering if you’ve hit your head or have been inhabited by aliens.”
“New day, new play. So…” He closed his email and put his phone face down on the counter. “After I apply the stain—”
“And wax.”
“—and wax to the furniture I sanded and cleaned yesterday, shall I start on that dresser? I still have fingerprints on my left hand, and my right hand is getting jealous.”
Her lips quirked. “Symmetry is important.”
“It’s my life.” He returned her smile, drinking in the shimmer of humor in her eyes as if it were his favorite bourbon. Thank you, Doyle.
“So?” Evan rubbed his hands together. “Shall we get to it? That dresser won’t sand itself.”
“We? I thought you were going to do the work.”
“I can still use your expert advice. I’m good, but let’s be honest, you know more about this than I do. Dozens of YouTube videos can’t replace in-person expertise.”
“You’ve watched dozens of YouTube videos? I only sent you four.”
“Need I remind you that there’s no cable in my room? I get bored late at night, so—” He shrugged.
She glanced from him back to her desk where her folders waited. “I’d help, but there are a ton of things on my To Do List today, and the computer work is just part of it.”
“What’s on your list?”
She reached behind her and picked up a notepad. “Rake the flowerbeds, paint the kayak stand, fix the loose boards on the dock—” She wrinkled her nose. “Too many things.”
“I can help with those too. Or I can if you’ll give me permission to leave the shed now and then.”
“You don’t need my permission to leave the shed. You’re not chained there.”
“Not physically, no,” he agreed, flashing her a grin. “But emotionally, I fear I’ve become attached to your antique dressers. I’m probably just suffering from Stockholm syndrome, but still.”
Her lips twitched as she held back a smile, and her gaze moved over him.
He could feel her taking his measure, and he tried to keep his expression calm. He was glad she didn’t know how just the touch of her gaze could send his pulse galloping like a wild horse.
Finally, she shrugged. “I guess it can’t hurt. I really could use the help.”
“It’s a big job, what you’re doing here, but it’s going to be worth it.” He straightened. “I’m off to the shed. I’ll get the stain and wax ready.”
“We’ll need some rags.
They’re in the white cabinet in the back of the shed.”
“Got it.” He collected his coffee cup and was backing toward the door. “See you in a few.” And with that, he pushed the door open and headed out into the sunlit parking lot.
It was all he could do not to give a tell-tale fist pump as he hurried to the shed.
6
Jess
Jess leaned on the broom she’d been using to sweep the sidewalk and shaded her eyes against the late afternoon sun. It was one of those unusually warm April days that felt more like June, which she loved.
Time was flying by. It was already Thursday, which meant that Evan would be leaving in the morning. It’s been a whole week, she realized with both surprise and bittersweet regret. A whole week. It felt as if he’d been there all along, but it also felt as if he’d just arrived.
He makes me so confused. He was just outside the shed, waxing the old dresser she’d bought for the Italian-themed room, bringing the newly stained wood to a soft, warm sheen.
She had to admit that he’d done an exceptional job on the furniture, and now she could check those boxes off her To Do List. But it was more than the furniture. Over the last few days, Evan had been super helpful with other projects too, giving the kayak stand a fresh coat of yellow paint, repairing a few loose boards on the dock, and other things, as well, some that weren’t even on her list. She’d woken up just this morning to find him pulling weeds from the parking lot.
He claimed he was just helping out to keep from being bored, but they both knew that wasn’t true. Every once in a while, when she least expected it, she’d look up and catch him watching her with a dark, brooding, almost possessive gaze that made her tingle from head to toe.
How she used to love that man. And still did, of course. But it’s different now, she reminded herself.
Isn’t it?
She watched as he applied the last of the wax to the dresser and wondered at the changes she’d seen in him this past week. For one, he was no longer obsessively checking his phone. Last night, he’d even accidentally left it in the shed when they’d ordered takeout from the Moonlight for dinner. He hadn’t realized it was gone until hours later when they were saying goodnight.
I Loved You First Page 23