Almost Like Being in Love

by Beth K. Vogt

“What?”

  “I don’t have a huge budget to stage the house, you know that. Caron’s plan is to have furniture stores donate pieces or else borrow items from people she knows. So I suggested we use my bedroom set. And now Caron’s coming to look at it. I need you and Lacey at my condo when we get there.”

  “You want me to tell you how brilliant you were before or after Caron comes over?”

  “I want you to back me up—preferably without an ‘I told you so.’ ”

  “Can’t promise you that. You on your way now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. See you in twenty. And you owe me.”

  “You don’t even need to say it.” Kade hit the brakes as the light up ahead turned red. “Listen, you’ll get there before I do. You’ve got a key. If the place is a wreck—”

  “We’ll hide your dirty clothes and dishes.”

  He caught some green lights, and Kade dashed through his front door twenty minutes later, shucking off his coat and tie. He had a good ten minutes on Caron—more if God answered his prayers and all the traffic lights were red for her.

  “Hey, boss.” Mitch appeared from the kitchen, holding a bottle of water.

  “Hey. Where’s Lacey?”

  “She’s making sure everything is all clear in your bedroom. This apartment doesn’t accommodate a wheelchair all that well.”

  Kade bit back a groan. “Sorry about that—”

  “It is what it is. It just meant Lacey had to be sent on a search-and-destroy for your dirty laundry. But the place looks great, if you ask me.”

  “I forgot I had the cleaning service come in today.”

  “No dirty clothes—” Lacey’s voice floated down the hallway moments before she appeared. “Oh, Kade’s here.”

  “Yeah.” Kade pulled open the fridge door. “You want some water?”

  “I’m good. Have you figured out how you’re going to explain our being here?”

  “No.”

  “Then just keep it simple. We dropped by.”

  “You . . . dropped by.”

  “Yeah. Friends do that. Or you could say Mitch wanted to talk about something work-related—”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.” Lacey lounged on one end of his sectional sofa. “You’re the one who had to invite your ex-girlfriend to look at your bedroom. Mitch and I are here as the chaperones.”

  “Very funny.”

  The sharp peal of the doorbell interrupted Kade’s conversation with Lacey. “She’s here.”

  “Sounds like it, unless you invited someone else over to look at your bed.”

  “Hardly.” Kade tossed his coat and tie to Lacey, who sat there with a what-am-I-supposed-to-do-with-these look on her face. Mitch moved over to the living room as Kade opened the front door.

  “Hey, Caron. I see you found your way here without a problem.”

  “Google Maps is a wonderful thing. And having the mountains to the west is a great anchor, too.” Caron took two steps into the apartment and then stopped at the sight of Lacey and Mitch. “Um . . . hello.”

  “Caron, you know Mitch from work. This is Lacey, his girlfriend.”

  “Nice to meet you, Lacey.”

  “Lacey’s a professional photographer—” Kade twisted the cap off the water bottle. “I, uh, called her and asked her to come by because I thought maybe you might want to use some of her photographs in Eddie Kingston’s house.”

  “Really? That’s a great idea.” Caron set her handbag on the love seat, slipping off her shoes. “I’d love to see some of your photographs. Did you bring any with you?”

  Lacey shrugged, offering an apologetic smile. “No. I didn’t. Mitch and I were already out when Kade called. Going to dinner.”

  “Right. Right. But I asked her to stop by anyway, just to meet you.” Heat crawled up Kade’s neck. He was a lousy liar—and Caron knew it. He should have just admitted to being a coward and that he didn’t want to be alone with her again.

  “O-kay.”

  Lacey launched into the awkward silence. “And besides, the guys needed to talk about the Mudder they’re running next weekend.”

  “Right.” Mitch chimed in on cue.

  Caron’s glance swiveled back and forth between Kade and Mitch. “You’re running in a Mudder?”

  “Yes. The Aspen Mass Mudder.” Mitch joined the conversation. “We have a team of six of us.”

  Lacey pointed to herself. “And I’m the photographer.”

  “I was part of a team that did an obstacle course run. I’m sure it’s not quite as intense as what you’re doing, but we had fun—and we raised money for Heart of the Bride, a ministry that cares for orphans in Africa, Haiti, and Ukraine.”

  “You ought to come along with us.” Lacey rushed past Kade’s attempt to interrupt. “You’d enjoy seeing the race—it’s all over a mountainside. A number of Wounded Warriors participate. It’ll be fun.”

  “Oh, I don’t know—”

  “You can hang out with me. I’m going to be walking the area, going to different spectator sites and trying to get photos of the guys doing the obstacles. I’d enjoy the company.”

  “Sounds like fun, but that’s right before the Tour of Homes.”

  “Which means you’ll have most of the work done by then, right?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “I’m just thinking out loud here—” Lacey paused for a moment. “—I know you’re retrofitting the house, right? Maybe we could use some of the photos in the house . . . I could print up a few—”

  “That’s a great idea!” Caron’s eyes lit up. “Maybe in the office.”

  “Speaking of the tour, weren’t you going to check out some furniture?” Mitch interrupted the two women, who seemed intent on becoming fast friends.

  “Right.”

  “Is it okay if I come along with you?” Lacey paused beside Mitch. “Who knows? I might have a photograph that would coordinate with Kade’s furniture—if you decide to use the bedroom set, that is.”

  Caron nodded. “Great idea.”

  “We’ll be right back, Mitch.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Mitch waved the remote. “Got all I need.”

  It took less than five minutes for Caron to approve his furniture. The entire process was simple, with Caron conferring with Lacey about possible coordinating artwork.

  “Well, that’s one more thing off my list.” Caron slid her shoes back on. “I’ll just head out with Lacey and Mitch.”

  “And you are coming with me to the Mudder, right?” Lacey stood beside Mitch. “It’ll be nice to have another woman along. The four of us can ride up together.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “You’ve got to do something besides work while you’re here. It’ll be fun, won’t it, guys?”

  “Yeah. You should come.” Mitch echoed Lacey’s invitation, seemingly immune to Kade’s heated stare.

  “There—Mitch agrees—and I’m sure Kade does, too.”

  “Absolutely. Sure.” Kade tried to infuse enthusiasm into his voice.

  “All right, then. I’ll do it.”

  “Terrific. We’ll coordinate everything when we get together this week.”

  Kade shut the door, blocking out the sound of their conversation fading down the hallway. He’d averted the come-see-my-bedroom fiasco with Caron only to end up agreeing to spend an entire day with her.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  What was it about Jessica’s home that invited Alex in? Situated in an older part of Niceville, it was small, probably not even a thousand square feet. The outside needed a new coat of paint, and the yard needed to be reseeded. But the inside? She’d arranged what furniture she had in a semicircle that invited people to sit and talk—a worn, brown leather couch with a coordinating recliner covered in a floral pattern, and a coffee table that was nicked and scarred but still polished so it gleamed. A light wood rocking chair finished off the room decor. Had Jessica held a much younger Scotty as she sat in the c
hair, lulling him to sleep?

  “I notice something different about this place.” Alex stepped over a small pile of green, blue, yellow, and red Legos.

  “Really?” Jessica stood with her hands on her hips, glancing around the room. “I can’t think of anything. I haven’t even bothered to have Scotty pick up his toys yet today.”

  Alex stepped over another pile of plastic building blocks. “I was talking about the air-conditioning. The room’s nice and cool.”

  “Oh. That.” Jessica’s smile bore a hint of Scotty’s little-boy grin. “Some guy came and fixed it the other day.”

  “Some guy, huh?”

  “Yeah. And Scotty’s been asking me when he was coming back—” Footsteps pounded down the hallway. “Brace yourself. I think my son just figured out that you’re back.”

  Sure enough, Scotty ran into the room and barreled right into Alex. But before he could lock his arms around his legs again, Alex hoisted the little boy up into his arms. “Hey, kiddo, didja miss me?”

  “Where ya been, Mr. Alex?”

  Alex plopped his work cap on Scotty’s head so it slipped down over his eyes. “Well, I’ve been working on other people’s air conditioners—”

  “Scotty, I told you that we’re not Mr. Alex’s only customers.”

  “I know, Mommy.” Scotty twisted around in Alex’s arms. “But you said he was coming back.”

  “I said maybe.”

  Alex released Scotty from his arms, allowing him to jump to the floor. “Why only maybe? I said I was going to fix your washing machine.”

  “Alex, you do not have to keep being my Good Samaritan. I can get the machine fixed myself.”

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Fix the machine?”

  “No. I was waiting until my next paycheck—”

  “Good. Then let me finish what I started and save you any more trips to the Laundromat.” Alex waved the washing-machine belt he held in one hand. “You’re not going to argue with me, are you? I’ve got the right part this time.”

  “Fine. But can I at least feed you dinner?”

  “What is it with you and needing to feed repairmen?”

  “What is it with you and fixing things? You fix. I feed. Fair deal if you ask me.” Jessica knelt and began dropping Legos into the clear plastic bucket beside the pile. “Unless you’re on a tight schedule. Do you have a date tonight with your girlfriend?”

  The mention of his girlfriend caught Alex off guard. “Caron?”

  “Caron—right.” Jessica leaned back, her hands resting on her knees. “You can’t work all the time. I thought it might be a date night for you two.”

  “No . . . no, we’re not going out tonight. Caron’s working out of town right now.” No need to share that he’d rather be here, fixing Jessica’s washing machine, than go home and spend a Saturday night alone. And that he felt alone even with his parents in the house. Jessica was just being friendly, not expecting him to be honest about his family situation. “She was asked to help stage a Tour of Homes house in Colorado.”

  And he wasn’t going to mention she was working with an ex-boyfriend.

  “I love visiting those kind of events. All the gorgeous houses with the perfect rooms.” Jessica stopped Scotty from running past, motioning for him to help pick up the rest of the Legos. “So then you can fix my washing machine and I’ll feed you dinner. That is, unless you don’t like chicken cacciatore.”

  “Another one of your mother’s recipes?”

  “Sorry, not this time. But it’s still delicious.”

  “Well . . . even though it’s not your mother’s recipe, I guess I’ll say yes.”

  “Very nice, Mr. Alex. Very nice.”

  Scotty looked back and forth between the two. “Is Mr. Alex staying for dinner, Mommy?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Then can I help him fix the washing machine?”

  “You may watch him fix the washing machine—after you help me pick up your toys.”

  “And if it’s okay with your mommy, maybe you can hand me a tool if I need it, okay?”

  “Okay. That’s like helping, right?”

  “It sure is.”

  Jessica followed them down the hallway. “So how long will this take?”

  “If all goes well, thirty minutes.”

  “And if not?”

  “It’ll be a long evening of me running back and forth to the parts store.”

  “We’ll plan on things going well, then. I’ll have dinner waiting.”

  Even with Scotty’s help, Alex managed to replace the belt in under an hour. He insisted they both wash up after, like proper workmen, before joining Jessica in the kitchen. The aroma of chicken and tomato sauce with spices had been wafting down the hallway for the last half hour.

  “Smells delicious.”

  “I hope you like polenta. And spinach. I don’t cook the spinach to death, like my grandmother used to.” Aiming the remote at the TV, Jessica clicked it off, using the remote like a baton to motion him to sit down. “I add garlic to it, too.”

  “Garlic makes anything taste better—even spinach.”

  “Thanks for that rousing vote in favor of spinach.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t like spinach as a kid.” He whispered and nodded toward Scotty. “But I’ll be a good role model.”

  “Scotty loves my spinach, don’t you?”

  The boy sat in a chair beside Alex. “Yep. It’s yummy.”

  Alex held his plate up. “Bring it on.”

  Jessica loaded his plate down with chicken smothered in tomato sauce, polenta, and spinach fragrant with garlic. “There you go, sir. Would you hand me Scotty’s plate?”

  “I want just as much as Mr. Alex.”

  “I’ll start you with just a little less, okay? If you want seconds, that’s fine.”

  As Jessica filled her own plate, she nodded toward the glasses sitting beside their plates. “I hope water is okay. I don’t keep soda in the house. It’s my one weakness. If I buy it, I’ll drink it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

  “Soda is your one weakness. Got it.” He ignored Jessica’s smirk. “Water is fine.”

  “So did you have a good week at work?”

  Alex savored his first bite of chicken. “This is delicious.”

  “Thank you. Try the spinach.”

  Alex held his fork, loaded with another bite of chicken, suspended over his plate. “Give me a chance to ease into it.” He winked at Scotty. “Yes, it’s been a good week. Not too many emergencies. No accidents.”

  “Accidents? Do those happen a lot?”

  “Not a lot, but they happen. About eighteen months ago, one of our techs slipped carrying a unit upstairs to an attic. Hurt his back. He was out of commission for a couple of months. Bad for him. And for us.”

  “I understand why it’s bad for him—”

  “We’re always shorthanded as far as techs go. That means even more hours for me and my dad.”

  “And Caron’s understanding of all this, right?”

  “We’ve known each other for years. My family moved down the street from hers when I was in fifth grade. And then my dad installed some air conditioners for her father. He’s a Realtor. So she knows what my job is like.”

  After a few minutes of silence, Jessica had another question for him. “So, any more ideas about proposing?”

  Alex choked on his sip of water. “No . . . no. Haven’t had the time. I thought I’d, uh, take her looking at rings like you suggested.”

  “Like I suggested?”

  “You said to make sure I knew what kind of ring she wanted. I figured the best way to do that was to take her ring shopping.”

  “You’ve known her for how long?”

  “Since I was eleven. Seems like forever. And before you say anything, I mean that in a good way.”

  “And you’ve dated . . . ?”

  “Two years.”

  “And you don’t know what kind of ring she
likes?”

  “It’s not an everyday topic of conversation.”

  “What’s her favorite color?”

  “I don’t know . . . blue, maybe.”

  “Does she wear gold or silver jewelry?”

  “Both?”

  “When you buy her flowers, does she like tulips or roses?”

  “I buy her roses.”

  “But what does she like?”

  “Why all the questions?”

  “After all this time, I would think you’d know some of these things. And that you’d know your future wife well enough to know what kind of ring she wants. Even if you do take her ring shopping—”

  “I just told you that I was going to take her looking at rings—”

  Jessica shook her head. “You can still surprise her with the ring you choose for her. That’s why you need to plan something fun and creative.”

  “If you say so.”

  “What about a treasure hunt?”

  “A treasure hunt?”

  “You know, plant little notes that she has to find and follow the messages . . . maybe they lead to special places that mean something to both of you . . . and then you meet her at the last place and you propose there. Where do you spend most of your time?”

  “At her parents’ house. We eat there just about every Sunday.”

  “Well, that’s not very romantic. Don’t you have a favorite restaurant or—”

  He needed to figure out some way to change the topic. Ask her about her job. Or compliment her on the spinach.

  “Mommy, what happened to that car?”

  Scotty was swiveled around in his chair, his attention riveted on the silent TV screen. Some sort of breaking news played out across the screen. A car accident.

  “Oh, my gosh. I thought I turned that thing off. I must have hit the mute button by mistake.” Jessica jumped up to grab the remote. “I don’t want him seeing that.”

  Alex stared at the scene. An older-model four-door black sedan in the middle of a grocery-store parking lot, rammed into a line of parked cars, shoving them all akilter. The camera zoomed in on the woman sitting in the driver’s seat, blood streaming down her face into her neck and the collar of her . . . black bathrobe.

  “Wait.” His voice was too loud. Harsh.

  “What?” Jessica stopped, the remote control aimed at the TV.