Georgia Sweethearts

by Missy Tippens

He blinked. Took a deep breath. Stepped away. “I’m truly sorry for the commotion. But look around.” He pointed all along the ceiling. “We’re nearly finished with the drop ceiling grid.”

  We? She glanced around. And sure enough, there were two teenage boys across the room who’d stopped to stare. Then Frank stuck his head out of a little room they’d built and winked.

  Her face burned hot as a fireplace poker. She gave an awkward wave. “Sorry. Y’all carry on.”

  She hurried back up the steps, mortification making her want to cry.

  Daniel caught up to her as she slipped behind the counter. “I’m sorry. I should have told you they were there. I was just...well...um, distracted.”

  Tears burned her nose. She hated to make a spectacle. More than anything, though, she didn’t want to feel so drawn to a man who was completely wrong for her. Or to any man for that matter. “Tell them I didn’t mean to sound unappreciative. I was joking about the noise.”

  “The kids won’t care. And Frank...well, he’ll rib me about us. But you’re safe.” Red streaked across his cheeks.

  Daniel’s reassurance made her heart dance around in her chest. He was such a nice guy, trying to make her feel better after she’d pretty much thrown herself at him.

  He leaned his forearms on the countertop, his expression turned serious. “So you didn’t have a good turnout?”

  She let out a huge sigh that had been weighing on her throughout the class. “No. Only the two, and one of them is practically a pro.”

  “So it didn’t generate much income.”

  “Unfortunately, no. I’m going to have to figure out a way to increase enrollment.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I offered to help.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You have a marketing background. In what?”

  “Sports management.”

  How on earth could that help? She lifted both hands palm up as if they were a scale. She raised one higher. “Sports management.” Then she raised the other. “Yarn shop.”

  His lip quirked up at one corner. “I promise I can help.”

  But at what cost? She truly doubted his help would be worth the risk to her heart if she spent any more time with him than necessary. The only thing she considered necessary was incidental contact as they went about their daily business.

  She wouldn’t expose herself on purpose to a charming dreamer any more than she’d expose herself to a contagious disease.

  * * *

  “Score it across the line like this,” Daniel said to the two high school guys who’d come again after school to help. On a Friday, no less. He raked his blade across the ceiling tile.

  The boys, from broken, troubled homes, had impressed him already with their commitment to the mentoring sessions week after week, even though Ian had stated the desire to quit. And now they’d shown up an extra day to help with the renovation.

  “Then I snap it apart?” asked towheaded Parker Pruitt, the younger of the two at fifteen and a half. Parker had proved himself to be independent from his troublemaking older brothers and would most likely overcome his family legacy.

  “Yep. Give it a try.”

  Doubt filled his gray-blue eyes. “What if I mess it up?”

  “Come on, man,” Ian Thomas said, grabbing it out of

  Parker’s hand. “We’ll be here all night if you worry about every little piece.”

  Ian, with his dark eyes, dark hair and matching dark attitude, was seventeen and had anger issues. Ian wanted to drop out of school, and likely drop off the map. Daniel had worked hard to keep him motivated to earn his diploma and was surprised the young man was still hanging around.

  With a sure snap, Ian broke the tile and started on the next. Undeterred by the censure, Parker followed suit and soon built his own pile of tile blocks sized to install along the ceiling edges.

  Daniel still planned to be finished in time to have services here on Sunday. But his to-do list was long, including purchasing and setting up tables, chairs, dehumidifiers and space heaters. Plus, if they had time, he wanted to paint the drywall.

  He’d begun to doubt they’d finish by Sunday. Especially since his third worker, seventeen-year-old Ricky Hartley, who’d been sentenced to community service for excessive speeding, hadn’t shown up.

  Daniel had agreed to supervise the kid as a favor to his grandmother’s pastor, Phil Hartley, who served the church in downtown Corinthia. The boy was Phil’s nephew, and the pastor and his wife had petitioned for legal guardianship.

  “Can we start putting in the tiles?” Parker asked.

  “Sure, in the center of the room. We’ll do the outer tiles after painting.”

  Parker grabbed a ladder and hurried up the rungs, the ladder tilting to one side.

  “Whoa! Slow down or we’ll end up at the ER fixing that hard head of yours.”

  The boy snickered but slowed his ascension up the ladder. “My mom says there ain’t nothin’ harder than a Pruitt boy’s head.”

  “With four Pruitt men under her roof, she’s certainly the expert.”

  As Parker and Ian worked, Daniel’s disappointment in Ricky grew. He still hadn’t shown, and now Daniel would have to report him to the caseworker.

  He strode to his newly framed and Sheetrock-enclosed office to finish adjustments on the newly installed door. He’d have to call Phil, too. The poor man wanted better for his nephew. But the boy was nearly eighteen. It might be too late to help him.

  “This one fit!” Parker gave a fist pump and wobbled on the ladder.

  “Great,” Ian mumbled. “He’s going to celebrate each stupid tile.”

  Daniel laughed. He was proud of how far the teens had come, especially Ian, who would have cursed at the younger boy just weeks ago. “Patience, my man. I seem to remember a similar situation involving a passing grade on a cooking assignment in Family and Consumer Science class.”

  Ian bit back a smile. “That’s different. Cooking’s stupid.”

  “Let me see...” He looked at the ceiling as if thinking. “I seem to remember something similar you said about the tiles....”

  The boy chuckled, his brown eyes flashing with humor. “You got me.” He climbed the ladder, placed a tile, then did a silent celebration imitating Parker.

  Parker good-naturedly fist bumped him. “Nice work, dude.”

  “Daniel,” Lilly called from upstairs.

  Footsteps followed. They weren’t Lilly’s. Heavy boots clunked down toward them.

  When he turned, he found Lilly standing in front of Ricky. She didn’t look happy.

  “What happened?” Daniel asked.

  “Can we talk in your office?”

  He showed her and Ricky to the small room and shut the door.

  “Mr. Attitude here got mouthy with my customers,” she said.

  “I didn’t do nothin’,” Ricky said, towering over Lilly, who barely reached his shoulder.

  “Then what do you call the insults you launched?” Lilly asked.

  “I came in looking for Daniel. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  Daniel shook his head at the boy’s rudeness.“Ricky, that’s enough. It is Ms. Barnes’s business. She owns this place.”

  Ricky shrugged as if he couldn’t care less. “Whatever.”

  “You’re late,” Daniel said. “In fact, I don’t know if we can count today toward your community service.”

  “Come on, man. I tried to find it. But when I walked in and saw a bunch of blue-haired women, I thought I was at the wrong place.”

  Daniel widened his eyes at Lilly, questioning.

  He thought he spotted a glimmer of humor behind the stern look. “A couple of your church ladies dropped by to check out the merchandise. And one of your grandmother’s class members, Vera, returned
.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “Yes, nice for business...until your friend here commented on their hair color.”

  He could only imagine what the women thought. Ricky’s long, shaggy hair needed a good washing. His clothes were dirty, too. His scraggly goatee needed a trim, and his arms, what you could see of them under the tattoos, were well muscled, making him look brawny and threatening.

  But Daniel had sensed the hurt under the brashness. He didn’t think Ricky meant anyone harm. “I’m sorry for the interruption, Lilly. I’ll take it from here.” He nodded at Ricky. “Go out there and help the guys with the ceiling tiles.”

  Apparently, she hadn’t been placated. She shut the door after Ricky walked out and massaged her shoulder. “Vera said Ricky frightened her. An overreaction, of course. But still, she is a new customer. I hope this arrangement is going to be positive for The Yarn Barn.”

  Her tension arced across the space and into his shoulders. “I’ll make sure it is.” If he could control construction noise and three teenage boys who tended to land in trouble every chance they got.

  “You know, I don’t mean to come down on your mentoring program,” she said. “In one town we lived in, Jenna and I had some church folks help us.”

  Her words hit him like a punch to the solar plexus. Her childhood must’ve been bleak if a church stepped in for the kids.

  She closed in on herself, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Maybe the boys and Vera will learn to tolerate each other.”

  Her kind smile reached across his desk, letting him know all was well. Reminding him of their closeness at the foot of the ladder yesterday, a closeness he shouldn’t want so badly.

  “Thanks for understanding. They’re good kids. Trying to make a better life for themselves.”

  “I totally get that.” She walked out of his office and called, “Ricky, for what it’s worth, that one woman’s hair is blue. But I’d suggest a tighter filter on your thoughts.”

  Ricky’s quiet chuckle trickled into Daniel’s office.

  He sucked in a deep breath, blew it out with a loud puff. Time to forget about a certain pair of hazel eyes and get back to work. Looked as if he’d be there through the night priming the walls. Saturday morning, he’d have to make a decision about whether to delay the move to the basement and hold the service back at Frank’s.

  Chapter Five

  By closing time on Saturday, battling the day-long desire to check on Daniel had left Lilly drained.

  His car had been in the parking lot since Lilly had arrived that morning at seven-thirty. Since then she’d wanted to go to the basement, talk with him, see how he was doing. See how many volunteers showed up. See if he’d have to postpone the move.

  She’d even battled asking if they needed help. But she was supposed to be focused on growing the yarn shop, not building a church. Especially if that church’s pastor was Daniel.

  The man held a powerful attraction. Charming, funny, smart. But she’d fallen for those qualities before with her ex-fiancé, Clint, and knew better.

  Daniel is much more than Clint could ever hope to be. He’s kind, giving, patient....

  She imprisoned her wandering thoughts and sent Jenna home early. That was a sure way to conquer her urges once and for all, forcing her to remain upstairs, minding her own business.

  Once she locked up for the night, though, she decided she had to know how Daniel was faring. Her recent reconnaissance mission revealed his was the only other car still in the lot. He had no assistance at the moment.

  She had to go check on him. Any human being with a shred of concern would.

  She would not flirt. She would not lean in. This was strictly a business concern. The man was renovating their building, after all.

  She found him talking on his cell phone, sitting on a brand-new folding chair. He looked worn-out, with paint splattered in his hair and on his clothes—the same ones he’d worn yesterday.

  He motioned for her to wait. “I’m fine. God will work it out, even if we finish after everyone gets here tomorrow.” He squinted as if his eyes burned while he wrapped up the conversation and put the phone in his pocket.

  “Did you work through the night last night?”

  “Yep. Got the walls primed. Put on one coat of paint today. The final coat will have to be done next week.”

  She glanced around at the amazing amount of work they’d accomplished. The new ceiling made the room feel much more homey and muted the echo. “Everything looks great.”

  “Yep. With a good bit of help. How’s the paint odor?”

  “Not too bad since you have the door open. So you’re meeting here tomorrow?”

  He stood and turned, taking in all the changes around him. “Yes.”

  He still didn’t have a place for people to sit. “What about the tables and chairs?”

  “In boxes that I plan to open tonight. And if I have time, I’ll run over to Frank’s and move everything from my office.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Yeah. That was Ned on the phone. The flu’s going around the station. He’s filling in again for a sick firefighter.”

  “I can help.”

  He seemed as surprised as she felt. All day long she’d held back. Had done very well at minding her own business. And now, with three careless words, she’d committed herself to a whole evening around the handsome preacher.

  What on earth was she thinking?

  His weary-yet-no-less-appealing grin made her stomach tie into a mishmash of pain...and excited nerves.

  “You just surprised yourself, didn’t you?” he asked.

  “You’re kind of scary, you know it?”

  He shrugged. “I read people pretty well.”

  His face turned serious, and his normally confident, almost-cocky expression turned to one of doubt. He gave a little laugh. “I’m sure Jenna’s expecting you. You can back out on that offer.”

  Hadn’t he said she was good at jumping into action when needed?

  Like now. Or else he’d be up all night again. And how could he preach when he’d been awake for forty-eight hours straight?

  Not that the quality of his preaching mattered to her—it wasn’t as if she planned to attend the service.

  One glance at his tired eyes and she knew she wouldn’t take the escape he’d offered. “Jenna doesn’t need me. And y—this room does.” She held her arms out to her sides. “So...tell me what to do.”

  Obviously relieved, his blue eyes brightened. He started to say something but stopped. Then he grabbed a box. “Let’s set up these tables and chairs. And then maybe you can help me move my office. If you’re game for all that?”

  He looked unsure, which, for some reason, made her chest ache.

  “Let’s do it.”

  She called Jenna to let her know she’d be home a little late. They spent the next couple hours cleaning the construction mess, ripping open boxes and setting up large round tables and folding chairs. Nice chairs, unlike her ramshackle ones that were older than the ark.

  “Oh, don’t open those chair boxes over there.” He pointed to a stack near the stairs. “They’re extras I plan to return.”

  She looked around at all they’d finished. “This is a nice setup. I like that you sit around tables. Feels kind of homey.”

  “Those church folks you mentioned the other day...what did they do for you and Jenna?” he asked as if it were nothing. As if digging into someone’s past was normal for him.

  Of course, it probably was. Maybe she could trust him with some of her baggage. Her heart stuttered. Might be nice to share it with someone.

  She pulled out a chair, and he joined her. One look into his sympathetic eyes reminded her she didn’t see him as a pastor anymore. She was starting to see him
as...more.

  “They picked us up in a church van each Sunday and took us to Sunday school. They gave us groceries because Mom’s paychecks often didn’t stretch far enough.”

  He leaned forward and put a hand on her knee, a gesture of comfort that seemed automatic. “Man, Lilly. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

  “Mom worked hard, but she was bitter about being the only one with a steady income while Dad chased his schemes. They ended up divorcing later, and Jenna and I became nothing more than pawns in court battles as they lashed out at each other.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, and the paint-encrusted ends stood straight up.

  She laughed, smoothed them down. Then, embarrassed, stuffed her hands into her pockets. “It’ll take forever to get that paint out.”

  He slapped his knees. Stood. “Well, it’s late. You should probably get home to Jenna.”

  His dismissal hit like salt on a wound. She stood, ran her palms over the thighs of her khakis. Had she scared him off with her pathetic life story? The thought made her want to cry. “I can keep going.”

  He gazed into her eyes. Took a step closer, sending her stomach on a mad dash. “Are you sure?”

  Sure of what? That she wanted to know him better? Wanted him to accept her for who she was, even though they would both eventually leave?

  “I promised to help. I’ll finish the job,” she said, businesslike, certain. When in reality her insides felt like jelly.

  He snapped into motion. Strode across the room and dug into a cooler. Tossed her a bottle of water, followed by a pack of peanut butter crackers. “Can’t have you swooning on me.”

  How ironic.

  They drove across town to Frank’s. He didn’t try to make conversation. Was probably too exhausted, or didn’t want to listen to another sob story. She stared out the window at the beautifully lit courthouse. At the shadowed, barren winter tree line in the distance, the starkness of it calling to her as a kindred spirit.

  “This won’t take long. I’ve already packed.” He hopped out and led her inside. They managed to load everything in less than a half hour. By the time they returned to The Yarn Barn, it was after ten o’clock. Lilly wasn’t surprised when her cell phone rang, showing Jenna’s home number on the display.