Derek chuckled. “I’m glad you’re happy. I have to admit, never in a million years did I think I’d be ordering pizza with goat cheese on it.”
“Oh, it’s so good. You’ll have to try it.”
“Eh, I don’t know about that,” he said on a laugh.
“I see your favorite pizza is the heart attack special.” One half of the pie was her favorite and the other was a concoction of every meat available and topped with strips of bacon.
“At least I’ll go down happy. Good pizza, good company, and a good day’s work.”
He handed her an opened beer and then held his own out toward her. She clinked her bottle against his. “To sore backs tomorrow,” she said.
“No kidding. And sore knees.”
“You had knee pads on,” she said as she grabbed her first slice of pizza.
“Babe, nothing is gonna stop the pain of being on your knees for six hours. Not at my age.”
She stopped short for a moment, partly because he’d used that endearment again, and partly because she suddenly felt bad. He’d worked incredibly hard the past few days when he didn’t have to. None of this was his responsibility. Contractors hired crews to do these kinds of tasks. On top of that, it was taking him away from his more important jobs in the city.
He must have sensed her worry. Derek leaned forward and looked her square in the eye. “Linds, I’d do it all again. For you. Understand me?”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Now eat up.”
They ate in silence for a while until he finally swiped the crumbs from his hands and leaned back to rest on his palms. “So tell me how you got involved with this blog.”
Lindsey swallowed. “Well, Anne created it, as I’m sure you know. Started it years ago. After a while she added Callie. She posts recipes and such. At some point Anne and I met at the opening of a little craft shop downtown. I was there because … obviously I like crafty things. She was there because she likes crafty things. We started talking, e-mailing, I followed the blog, she followed my Etsy shop, and eventually she asked me to be a contributor.”
“Etsy shop?”
“It’s an online retail space where people can sell handmade items. I repurpose found objects, unusable antiques. And then I sell them.”
“Repurpose. So, like, a trash-to-treasure kind of thing.”
“Well … sort of. And I am impressed to hear you say that phrase. But more of … finding a new way for something to be useful. Like taking an old broken ladder and turning it into a lamp base.”
“You’ve done that?”
“Yeah, I do that kind of stuff all the time.” Lindsey pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened her Etsy app. She’d become pretty good at one-handed phone typing. She scooted closer to Derek and showed him the screen. “These are a few of the items I have up now.”
He leaned in toward her, their heads close, and looked at the screen. Reaching out, he began to scroll through a few photos. “What’s that? A jewelry holder?”
She laughed at his confusion. “Basically. It’s made from reclaimed barn wood, chicken wire, and found wrought-iron brackets. I’ve sold twenty just like it this year. I also do some custom work in addition to interior design, but repurposed art is sort of my thing.”
“So you’re one of those people that pull over and take things off peoples’ curbs on trash day?”
She laughed. “I’ve been known to do that, yes.”
Derek laughed. “Nice. Lindsey Morales, professional trash digger.”
“Shush,” she said with a smile as he continued to look at her phone.
“Wow. Fireplace mantel, bookshelves, light fixtures.” He scrolled further down the page in silence and then looked over at her. “I’m really impressed, Linds. And not at all surprised.”
His words pleased her way more than they should. In fact, she was feeling so warm and fuzzy at the moment she scooted away from him before she did something stupid. She was certain that she caught disappointment flash over his expression.
“Thank you.”
“Where do you make all of this at?”
“Um, here or there. Right now I don’t really have a place since I’m staying with Mel and Brett. Condos aren’t really conducive to major craft projects. But I do small projects on their porch. It’s been kind of a bummer not being able to have the space to work how I want.” And why was she opening up to him like this?
“What kind of space would you like to work in?”
“Big, lots of fresh air. Room for storage. A space to spray paint.”
He nodded. “You need a studio.”
“Yeah, well, studio space doesn’t come cheap. Plus, larger pieces like furniture can’t be hauled up and down stairs or inside easily. That’s why the garage at my last place was awesome.”
“You do furniture also?” He looked surprised.
“I do. In fact, I’m about to get started on a piece for the island. It’s kind of a surprise for Anne.”
“I wondered what your plan was for that.”
“Well, for the past few weeks I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect piece of furniture. Something old I can paint to match our color palette. Maybe a distressed cranberry or teal. Then I plan to install a thick butcher-block countertop.”
“That’s quite a project.”
“Yeah, but I’ve done it before. I have a little booth down in the West Bottoms. In fact, this coming weekend is a First Friday so I thought I’d head down and search for something while I checked out my space.”
Every first weekend of the month, her favorite area to look for deals—the West Bottoms in downtown Kansas City—was filled with antiques booths and shops. There was such an amazing creative energy down there and she never missed a first weekend. Her booth there was located in a bigger retail space that allowed artisans to rent. Lindsey had a good feeling that’s where she’d find just the right piece for Anne’s island.
Derek reached for his beer and then hesitated. “So this Friday, huh? You want some company? I’d love to see some more of your work.”
Lindsey froze, uncertain what to say. She couldn’t ignore the little voice inside of her saying, Too much too fast. This was supposed to be a no-big-deal friendship. But another part of her—the one that needed a firm talking-to—was thrilled by the thought of spending a day with Derek in one her favorite places. Showing off her work. She knew they had different tastes—he always preferred a more modern style and clean lines—but he’d just said really nice things about her small projects.
He could obviously sense her hesitation. “I’ve got a truck, you know?”
Lindsey laughed. “You might have me there. I usually have to hire someone to haul things for me.” Something she couldn’t afford in her build budget right now if it could be helped. Anne had paid her a good chunk of her fee up front but it wouldn’t last long. And while Anne and Mike also paid for all the supplies, Lindsey wanted this one to be a secret until it was completely done.
Derek grinned. “See how useful I can be?”
“Okay, fine. You can come with me. But I warn you, I go early.”
He shrugged. “Not a problem. I’ll pick you up. We can grab some breakfast.”
“Breakfast? What for?” They were already having a picnic dinner. Doing another meal in just a few days time could put them into dangerous territory. “We shouldn’t try and make this into … a thing.”
“I’m not making this into a thing. What does that even mean … a thing?”
“You know, more than it is.”
He leveled her with an irritated yet amused glare. “Lindsey, this is nothing. Two people working on a project together and eating in the general vicinity of one another at a table. There might possibly—hopefully—be conversation involved. But that is definitely not a thing.”
She considered his words for a moment, picking at the wrapper on her beer bottle. “Okay. Friday morning pick me up at seven.”
Derek was noticeably pleased with her
answer, his easy smile teasing her. “See how easy this is?”
“How easy what is?” All she could think was how easy it was to find him adorable even when she’d sworn to herself they wouldn’t even get this far with each other.
“Being friends with me,” Derek said. He gave her a wink before picking up another piece of pizza.
Lindsey just needed to keep reminding herself that friends was all it would ever be.
Ten
Derek pulled into the parking lot of Lindsey’s condo a few days later. Or her sister’s condo, who he assumed was also the woman currently coming down the stairs with Lindsey and a small baby in tow.
Derek parked his truck and exited the vehicle. The sun was warm but the air still held a winter chill. He stepped onto the sidewalk. “Good morning. You must be Melanie,” he said.
She took his hand but he didn’t miss the slight skepticism in her expression. He had a really good feeling this woman knew everything about his history with Lindsey. Not a surprise, they were sisters. Even looked a hell of a lot alike. Melanie wasn’t as pretty as Lindsey, but she was still attractive, albeit a little rough looking with her hair in a messy bun and oversized sweatpants. He assumed it was the early morning look of a woman with a new baby. Not that any man in his right mind would ever mention anything like that out loud.
“Nice to finally meet you,” she said with a hint of warning.
“Likewise.” He turned to the adorable baby in her arms and touched her chubby outstretched hand. “And this must be Eden.”
“It is,” Lindsey finally chimed in. He turned and smiled at her over Eden’s head as the tiny little fist clamped onto his finger.
He chuckled. “She’s strong. Must run in the family.” He met Lindsey’s eyes once more.
Eden jerked his finger and Derek looked back at her just in time to be rewarded with a big toothless smile. He could definitely see hints of Lindsey in her little round face and large eyes. For a fleeting second he imagined what it would have been like to have a child with Lindsey.
“She likes you,” Mel said. “I guess I’ll defer to her judgment for now. But I’m watching you.”
“Melanie,” Lindsey said with a gasp, clearly embarrassed by her sister’s verbal warning.
Derek cleared his throat and untangled his finger from Eden’s grasp. “I’ll consider myself warned, then.”
“Let’s get going,” Lindsey said. She leaned over and kissed Eden’s head of dark hair. “Bye, bean.”
Derek smiled at the exchange and looked once more at Melanie, who apparently hadn’t taken her eyes off him. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said. He could only give a silent laugh as he turned and headed back to his truck. He could hear the two sisters having a whispered exchange behind him, but he just went and opened Lindsey’s door, willing to wait. It was nice to know that Lindsey had a sister that cared so much, but it was also a reminder of all the roadblocks between them. Also of how bad it had been when he’d left her. The fallout must have been severe for a sister to be so overly protective. That thought sobered him a little.
After a moment he watched as Lindsey made her way over to him. She looked beautiful today in tight pink jeans that highlighted her generous and sexy lower half, white Chucks, and a worn denim shirt. Her hair was loose and flowing, his favorite, and she slipped a pair of sunglasses onto her face. It really didn’t matter what Lindsey wore, she always looked gorgeous.
“Thank you,” she said quietly as she ducked under his arm and climbed into the truck. Without waiting for her to try he pulled himself up and buckled in her seat belt. She smelled good with that hint of citrus, and something else feminine. He wondered what perfume she wore.
Once in the driver’s seat he headed north toward the West Bottoms. They were quiet for a few moments. Every time they were together it still felt a little like two steps forward one back.
“So is there somewhere we can eat down there?”
“There’s a diner on Eighth.”
“Okay, diner it is.” After another minute of silence he glanced at her. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Her answer came too quickly and without his prompting for more she continued. “It’s just … this is a little weird. Isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Not for me. I like being with you.”
He didn’t look over but from the corner of his eye he caught her turn away toward her window. Derek held in a sigh. He felt like she was constantly warring with herself about being his friend. He wondered how much of today’s hesitation stemmed from that final chat with her sister.
Ten minutes later Derek pulled down into the West Bottoms. The now hip antiques shopping area had once been the thriving stockyards and trade epicenter of Kansas City in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Being an architect, Derek had gone through a period of learning everything he could about the planning and development of Kansas City. The giant warehouse buildings were now home to shops, a few restaurants, and some of the largest haunted houses in the United States during the fall. He hadn’t been down here in years but clearly it was the place to be on the first weekend of the month. There were cars and people everywhere.
He turned onto Eighth Street and Lindsey pointed. “There it is, just ahead on the right.”
Derek found a parking spot and then reached over to unlatch her seat belt before getting out. They walked up to the door in silence, but Derek nearly groaned aloud when he held the door open for Lindsey and was hit with one of his favorite smells ever: coffee and bacon.
The diner was a cute place. Probably could use an update, but he figured that was the look they were going for. Or, more likely, they just didn’t give a damn.
A server passing by pointed to a booth along the back wall where they could sit. Derek followed Lindsey through the dining area and he couldn’t help but get a good look at the backside of her pink jeans. Good Lord. He was getting tired of admiring her from a distance. He wanted to touch her.
They sat down across from each other and she immediately picked up her menu. He chose instead to lean on the table and watch her. After a moment she peeked over the top of the laminated sheet.
“I suggest you decide,” she urged. “These servers here are busy and they want you to be ready when they come over.”
He smiled at her. “You think I can’t charm a server? I guarantee you I can.”
She rolled her eyes but he could see the way her lips creased at the corners. “There is no doubt of that.”
He still did as she suggested, quickly deciding on the Ranch Hand Platter. He immediately went back to observing her, the way her eyes narrowed as she contemplated. Her fingers, perfect dark gray nail polish this time. The natural highlights in her hair that framed her face. Even the tiny freckle just below her left eye. He could analyze the finer details of Lindsey Morales all day long.
From the corner of his eye he saw a middle-aged woman approaching their table. He whispered, “Oh my God, she’s coming. You better be ready, she already looks pissed.”
Lindsey set down her menu. She was trying and failing to hide her smile.
“Morning, folks,” the server said. She instantly grabbed Lindsey’s coffee mug. “Coffee?”
“Please,” Lindsey replied. She looked at Derek and he give her a wink.
“Coffee for the gentleman?”
“Absolutely.” Derek handed her his mug and glanced at the woman’s name tag.
“Thank you, Lynn,” he said when she put down his mug. Lynn noticeably preened a little at his words. Derek smirked at Lindsey who just rolled her eyes.
“What can I get you two for breakfast?” Lynn asked, her smile more genuine this time.
He nodded to Lindsey to go first. When she was finished, Derek gave his order and immediately the woman smiled at him. “I guessed you to be a Ranch Hand kind of guy.”
“Uh-oh, I hate to be predictable.” Derek smiled in Lindsey’s direction.
“Uh-uh,” the server said as she
picked up their menus. “This one is a compliment. You two let me know if you need anything, ya here?”
“Thank you so much, Lynn,” Derek said, before taking a sip of his coffee.
When they were alone once again, he grinned at Lindsey.
She was shaking her head. “That really wasn’t so impressive. She’s a middle-aged woman, you’re a handsome younger man. I don’t think there was much skill involved.”
Derek huffed out a laugh and without thinking blurted out, “Okay, I can agree with that. So is that what it takes? Do I need to wait until you’re middle-aged for my handsomeness to work on you? Or should I maybe just try a little harder.”
Her eyelids fluttered down, her fingers began fidgeting against the wooden tabletop. “Stop. This is supposed to be just breakfast. Remember?”
Derek leaned a little farther across the table. “You still afraid we’re stepping over the line here?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
Derek sat up straight but continued staring at her. Her sister had definitely gotten into her head. “Lindsey, I’ve enjoyed working with you. A lot. It feels good to be with you like this. You can’t tell me it doesn’t feel good to you, too.”
She relaxed, her shoulders dropping just a little. She put her hands on the table, chunky brace and all, and folded her fingers together. “Of course it does. Better than being angry. I don’t like to feel angry at anyone.”
“It’s more than that. I’m not just anyone.”
Her eyes darted to his and he could tell he was on the verge of going too far. But it felt as if she were so close to giving him a hint of her feelings. “Derek. Please,” she whispered.
Derek leaned forward once more, his hands resting near hers. He lowered his voice. “Please what, Lindsey? Tell me.”
He took a gamble and slid his middle finger very slowly across the side of her hand, down the length of her little finger, all the way to the tip of her painted nail. Rule two, officially broken. He wanted to obliterate that rule. Touch her so thoroughly that there was no going back. She didn’t move, her eyes staring at his fingers. Did she want him to touch her again? Only one way to find out.
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