by Stacey Weeks
William stood at the front, gathering people to give thanks for the food. It was hard to stay angry with a man who stood with his head bowed in the posture of complete humility, reading a Psalm of thanks aloud from his bible.
“Jenna, I’m so glad you could come today.”
Jenna snapped out her thoughts. People moved around, gathering their belongings, creating a happy buzz. Somehow she had managed to daydream through his prayer.
“How is it going at the church?” Mrs. Windot leaned over the back of her folding chair and looked over the top of her eyeglasses in a way that made Jenna feel ten years old again. “I saw you at Linda’s the night of the fire, but I haven’t seen you in church yet.” Mrs. Windot clucked her tongue like she used to when she was Jenna’s Sunday school teacher.
“Thank you for the warm welcome back, Mrs. Windot. The church renovations are coming along fine. I think I see Becky and Lucy. I better go and say hi.” Jenna reached down for her purse. “I also need to find an extension cord for my slow cooker.” Thankful for the excuse to wrap up a conversation laced with the potential for uncomfortable spiritual questions, Jenna looked pointedly in the direction of the other room where extra cords and serving utensils were lined up on a counter.
“Wonderful,” Mrs. Windot patted her hand. “I won’t keep you. I’ll look for you next Sunday to say hello again.” Mrs. Windot waved across the room toward a friend, slipped her purse over her elbow, and wandered away.
Jenna smiled at the sweet woman’s retreating form.
“She’s a gem of a lady, isn’t she?”
Warm breath tickled Jenna’s ear, wafting a minty puff of air under her nose that released dozens of butterflies in her stomach. William. He placed a foot on the seat of a folding chair and leaned onto it, resting his weight on his knee.
“I was just going to find and extension cord.” She backed away, bumping into a chair and knocking an empty Styrofoam cup off another. She glanced up to find his amused gaze trained on her, as if he could read her thoughts. She needed to put some distance between them and laying out the food offered the easiest excuse. She hurried away.
She hated that she liked how his attention followed her, and how hers kept flitting back to him of its own violation, just to see if he was still watching her.
What was with that? It wasn’t as if she was interested in rekindling their relationship. She didn’t even like him. She pressed a hand to her fluttering belly as she recalled her tremors from the night of the fire. OK, maybe she liked him. He was handsome, hard-working, and amazing with Lucy. There wasn’t much not to like.
But she couldn’t afford the distraction of liking him. All she wanted to do was finish this job well so she could save her column and maybe get it syndicated. She wanted to reimburse the folks Parker had ripped off in his last get-rich-quick scheme. Nowhere on her list of wants did she plan to romance an old boyfriend, no matter how wonderful he appeared to be.
She grabbed an extension cord, followed the other ladies into the buffet room, and hooked the cord up to her slow cooker. The steaming food quickly drew a crowd. She took a plate and began serving herself.
A deep chuckle tap danced down her spine. “I wouldn’t take that.”
She looked up into William’s laughing eyes, unsure how she felt about him finding her again.
“That’s Mrs. Windot’s trademark dish. So spicy you won’t be able to drink enough water to put the fire out.”
She dropped the serving spoon. “Thanks for the warning. Anything else I should know?”
“If you don’t take one of Mrs. Luxton’s cinnamon buns now, you won’t get one.” William tugged a gooey roll from the plate and licked his lips. “I’d take two, but I’ve been told gluttony is a sin.”
Jenna laughed and snagged her own sticky treat.
“If you save me a seat I’ll wait in the coffee line and bring us both back one.” William nodded toward the beverage table.
“Perfect.” Jenna took William’s plate and briefly watched him join the coffee line before wandering into the next round filled with round tables. She didn’t feel like making small talk, so she grabbed an empty table in the corner. Somewhere between following him to the fire and carpooling to work, she realized that she owed him an apology. He’d been nothing but a perfect gentleman since she arrived, and he didn’t deserve her constant doubts. It was time to swallow her pride.
William set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her and slid onto the empty seat beside her.
She flashed her most winsome smile. “Thank you, William. And I want to apologize. You’ve been so kind to me since I’ve returned. And I have been nothing but skeptical. You are not the same boy who hurt me, and I am honored to work as your partner.”
William froze. His gaze dropped to her hand, where her fingertips had developed a mind of their own and now grazed his arm. She snatched her hand back. He slowly raised his face again to meet her eyes. “This is coming out of nowhere.”
“No, it’s been coming for a long time. I’ve just refused to admit it. And I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you.”
His simple acceptance felt right, but uncomfortable. What was she supposed to do now? She pushed her food around on her plate.
“Hey guys.” Becky plopped onto an empty chair and broke the tension. “Did you hear about the collection the church is organizing to help Linda and David get a fresh start?”
“Yeah,” William grunted around a mouthful of meat. He swallowed the bite. “Where is Linda? I didn’t see her.”
“David’s hockey team has a tournament today. She’ll be home by one.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot.”
“So what do you want to do to help, William?”
“I don’t have much to offer clothing-wise, so I wrote a check. Pastor Matthew had already contacted the fire hall so we could put the word out into the community. I’m dropping off a load of food later today, assuming I get my truck back up and running.”
“Is it in the shop again?” Becky asked.
“It’s in more than it’s out.” William chuckled.
Becky turned to Jenna, giving her a view of a clipboard with a few names scrawled across the top. “I’ve heard you already signed up to help organize and clean some of the items salvaged from the fire.”
Jenna held back a groan. She had hoped the women would forget about her offer to help. She may be making headway with William, but forgiving Linda was another story. She had no proof whatsoever that Linda was any different from the spoiled girl who led the prank on her…except only responsible mothers make their children apologize—
“It’s really kind of you to help, Jenna,” William said.
“It’s nothing.” Jenna squirmed. Especially since she only volunteered that night to avoid seeing William after the fire. Burned again by her own impulsiveness and self-centeredness.
“It’s not nothing.” Becky placed her warm hand over Jenna’s. “You know,” Becky continued, “since William’s truck is in the shop again, maybe you could bring William and the food over to the mobile home where Linda is staying? How about sometime tomorrow during the work day?” Becky scooped up her plate and pushed her chair back without waiting for an answer. “I’m going to join this other table and find some more volunteers.” The matchmaking gleam in Becky’s eye set Jenna’s stomach to jiggling.
“Sure, Becky.” Her face burned at Becky’s suggestive wink.
William’s smile sent more heat rushing to her cheeks. Did he know what Becky was up to? Did it bother him? Or worse, did he think she put Becky up to it? Now that she no longer saw him as the same irresponsible teen who’d broken her heart, she felt a twitch of yearning. An uncomfortable twitch.
She looked down to hide the emotions in her eyes.
“I’m gonna head back up for round two. Do you want anything?” William stood and waited with his plate in his hand.
“I’m good, thanks.”
The electricity that zapped between them couldn�
��t be denied any longer. She’d tried, but her heart had failed to listen. Her hungry gaze strayed to rest on his strong retreating back. She jerked her attention back to her plate. Foolish or not, she couldn’t deny the attraction.
“Did I just hear right? Are you heading to Linda’s place?” A woman tapped her on the shoulder. “I’m Mrs. Fenwick. I have to leave now, my son just ripped the seam on his pants wide open. Can you believe it? Boys. Anyway, can you give these to Linda?” She handed Jenna a few photo albums. “She left them at my place after our last scrapbooking night. It’s a good thing, too, or they’d be lost. A miracle, I’d say.”
Jenna took the outstretched albums from the stranger. “You can’t take them to her?”
“I would, but we’re heading out of town right after we finish lunch.”—the woman prattled on—“You know, I think it’s remarkable how William has stepped in and filled Paul’s void for those two. He’s like a father to poor little David. If only a little romance bloomed, then that entire family would be whole again…” Her voice faded off as she scampered after her son, who had tied a jacket around his waist and was now shifting from foot to foot as he waited at the door.
Jenna clutched the albums to her chest. She didn’t really believe there were romantic sparks between William and Linda, but a sudden wariness slipped over her like a heavy jacket. Like it or not, they once again held the power to break her heart.
7
William stole a glance at the side of Jenna’s face. She stared straight ahead, hands clutching the steering wheel with a grip strength that would be the envy of many men. She drove meticulously, as if paying attention to the details of the road freed her of the responsibility of conversation.
A strange combination of relief and dread sparred inside. Relief that she was actually giving him a ride to Linda’s trailer, as Becky suggested, and dread because she so clearly didn’t want to be here. The sudden shift in the temperature between them was unexpected, considering her apology yesterday.
Partnering with her was beginning to feel like working with a dull saw blade; he never knew what kind of kick-back to expect. But, no matter what drove her to accept responsibility for his transportation, he was thankful. Thankful for a lot.
After the rocky way they started their partnership, they seemed to be settling into an acceptable, albeit fragile, rhythm. He shouldn’t torture himself by noticing things like how her purple jeans hugged her curves, right down to her shapely calves. He shouldn’t care how her fitted blazer was likely meant to look professional but, left casually unbuttoned, it gave him tiny glimpses of her trim waist. He shouldn’t, but he did.
He cleared his throat. “So, thanks for driving me.”
She threw him a sideways look. “You couldn’t very well walk carrying this box of pantry items.” She quickly refocused on the road ahead of her and changed lanes. “When will you get your truck back?”
“Tucker seems to think that he can get it running well enough to save me the tow charge to the garage. But I’ll still have to take it in and get it looked over.”
She didn’t comment, but her gaze flicked his way.
He changed topics. “Linda’s insurance money should come in soon. The crew will start to clear the land for the rebuild.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. “Are you heading it up? How will you manage that and your responsibilities at the church?”
“I’ll manage.” Honestly, he didn’t know how he would manage. But Jenna didn’t need to know that.
“You know,” she said, while checking her blind spot and switching lanes, “you should use her house as your season one project for the reality show. Rebuild it with a modern twist. Reproduce all the original heritage features while adding hidden modern conveniences.”
His stomach lurched at the mention of his show. He was scheduled to meet with the producer later today. They’d either offer him a contract or the boot. They had requested he come prepared to pitch a season one idea, and he had nothing but substandard ideas. As her suggestion rolled around his mind, he sat straighter in the small-sized bucket seat. Re-build Linda and Paul’s place. Of course. It was brilliant. A smile spread across his face.
The station would cover the additional expenses of the heritage features and make up for what the fire insurance didn’t cover. And if the pitch was good enough, it might seal the deal on the spot allowing him to sign the contract and free up his monetary advance, further easing his money troubles.
Jenna’s idea might fix everything.
“Or not.” She misinterpreted his silence as disapproval and roughly shifted the car into fourth gear. “Whatever you think is probably best.”
“No, no, it’s great. Perfect, really. I’m not sure why I never thought of it.” He rested his hand on her hers, which remained on the gearshift. “Really. Thank you.”
The appreciative look in her eyes stunned him. He didn’t realize until just now how much she craved approval. He withdrew his hand and shifted in his seat. Her little sedan didn’t provide a lot of space. The front bucket seats were so close together that he caught a tantalizing whiff of her delicate perfume. Vanilla? A shot of attraction skidded through him and crashed into his ribs. He folded his hands in his lap and tried not to think about how perfectly her smaller hand had fit underneath his.
“It’s the next right.” He pointed ahead and Jenna put on her signal light.
“Should I come in or wait in the car?” Her vivid eyes widened as she waited for his response. “I don’t mind, you know, in case you guys want a few minutes alone.”
Where was that coming from? He had never given any indication that he wanted to be alone with Linda.
She slipped out the driver’s side before he could answer and opened the back door. She pulled some items off the backseat. He unfolded from the car and peered over the rooftop. Her feet crunched through the frosted snow as she shifted her weight from side to side.
Warm breath puffed in front of her face. “Mrs. Fenwick gave me these for Linda. They were at her place.” She hoisted up a few photo albums giving him a glimpse of the books.
Ahhhh, it all made sense now. The meddling Mrs. Fenwick made no secret of her opinion in regards to his relationship with his sister-in-law. She went as far as telling him that marrying Linda was his biblical responsibility as Paul’s brother.
Jenna broke eye contact and walked around to the trunk, popping it open with her key fob. He circled back and stood toe to toe with her, waiting to speak until she lifted her head and met his eyes. “Did she say something to you?”
“Nothing much.” She held out the albums.
“Enough to make you think there was something between Linda and me?” He took the albums from Jenna, laid them on top of the box of goodies in the trunk, and hoisted the full box out of the trunk.
She rubbed her toe in an arch across the crusty white covering the ground and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s none of my business, William.”
“She’s my brother’s wife. I love her like a sister.”
“Of course you love her.”
It was the way she never challenged him, but just accepted his statement that made him sure she’d hung onto the wrong word in that sentence.
It was crazy to think there was anything more than a platonic love between Linda and him. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t apologize for loving his sister-in-law.
Crazy. That was all there was to it. And he was definitely crazy for caring what Jenna thought. He had no business investing emotionally in a woman, no matter how hard his heart thudded against his ribcage when she stepped into the room.
Nope. He didn’t need or want a woman. But unfortunately, whether he liked it or not, Jenna was fast becoming very important to him. Maybe too important.
~*~
William met television executive Jeff Foxshire’s eyes and accepted his offered hand, pumping it three time with a firm grip before letting go.
“Thanks for meeting with me, sir.” William fought to ke
ep a straight face. Mr. Foxshire had nice hands. A man should never have softer hands than a woman. As quick as the thought came, rebuke followed. He readjusted his expression and attitude. Not every man was a physical laborer. Masculinity existed in both the office setting and on the job site. Besides, this man had the power to pull the plug on William’s new show and sink the dream of saving Paul’s farm.
He took in the many awards hanging on the office walls. This man knew television. If he didn’t believe in William’s show, then no one would.
“Happy to meet you, William. Please sit down.”
William sank into the chair.
Mr. Foxshire reclined behind his mahogany desk like a king surveying his court. He spread his manicured hands in front of him and flipped through the paperwork that littered his desktop in search of a particular file.
“We’ve reviewed the DVD of your work at the church,” Mr. Foxshire said. He retrieved his papers and tapped his fingertips together.
“And?”
“We like what we see.”
William exhaled hard. He could finally pay Paul’s missed payments and get rid of the stack of letters from the bank waiting to be opened on his kitchen countertop.
“But…”
He snapped up his head. Guys like this always had a “but.”
“…we also like your partner, Jenna.”
A million red flags went up. Yeah, he liked Jenna, too, but the feelings didn’t seem mutual. “What do you mean?”
“Meaning we like the sexual tension between you two. You sizzle.” He massaged his fingertips together. “Sizzle sells.”
William opened his mouth.
Mr. Foxshire held up his hand. “Every station has a decorating show these days, but one with a romantic twist between the hosts, now that’s new.”
“I think you’re reading too much into things,” William argued. “Jenna and I are not involved.” William dug his fingers into the leather arms of his chair. He couldn’t lose the show when he was this close to securing it.