by Leah Atwood
“It’s fine, really.” He gave her a strained smile. “There’s competition out there and you shouldn’t feel obligated to use my company.”
Great, he’d misunderstood. Next time, Lynds, think before you speak. “No, it’s not that.” She took a deep breath again. This was Shep, she could tell him the truth. “I didn’t hire anyone else, but I can’t afford a repair bill right now.”
Relief flashed in his eyes, followed by concern. “Why didn’t you say so from the start?”
Hunching her shoulders, she shrank into herself. “Do I have to answer that?”
His lips curled up on one side. “Why don’t you let me stop by and have a look at it, no charge? Depending on what’s wrong, I might be able to fix it with spare parts I already have.”
“I can’t take charity.” But the temptation was strong because she was in dire need. She removed her hand from the pocket and fiddled with her shirttails.
His gaze leveled with her. “If the situation was reversed, don’t you think Mark would have done the same for Miranda?”
“Of course he would.” She peered up at Shep, who stood a solid half foot above her five feet six inches. Victory danced in his pupils, causing a smile to play on Lyndsey’s lips. “You don’t fight fair.”
He chuckled. “Does that mean I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be home after three. Come by any time after that.” She conceded defeat, but not without terms. “And only if you let me make you dinner as payment.”
“Can’t say no to that.” Shep glanced at his watch. “The potluck will be over before we get in.”
“I’m sure Josh is already talking off Mrs. Tisdale’s ear.” Two steps put her back in front of the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She ducked inside before either could say another word. Shep was a friend, a dear one, but she’d not made a meal in her home for any man other than her husband. The idea planted all sorts of strange reactions in her, and if she thought about it for too long, she’d back out.