Love at First Laugh: Eight Romantic Novellas Filled with Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever After

by Krista Phillips

  Lisette laughed so hard she choked on her water. “I agree those are good ideas for the property. But, Dee, you’re…you. You’re a handyman. It’s what you love. Why would you walk away from that?”

  Why would she walk away from that? Even though her friend had decided to head back home after dinner, Lisette’s words haunted her. Deidre flopped over in her sleeping bag and stared up at the ceiling. Because she needed a change. She’d been fixing other people’s stuff for ten years, since her dad hired her at sixteen. He’d sold her the business when she turned twenty-one. Now she was twenty-six and the only time guys her age called her was when their plumbing was backed up or their fiancée wanted to change something in the house before they got married.

  She didn’t even get to go out on calls anymore unless she pulled rank. She was busy in the office managing the fifteen work crews that made up the company. Business was good. Maybe not as good as it had been two years ago, but she should be grateful. Instead, she’d run away. Maybe that wasn’t completely accurate. Paul had made it hard to stay. He’d certainly been the reason she’d come down and found Peacock Hill six weeks ago. Her decision to buy had been impetuous. But she stood by it. She could run D-Constructs from here, if it came to that. Live here. Run the company from here. Maybe even open a satellite office. People down here needed handymen just like they did in D.C.

  But she wanted more. She couldn’t explain it. She’d tried. No one understood.

  Chapter 4

  Jeremiah ran a solid bead of caulk along the top of the cabinets he’d built to make an island for his kitchen. They were simple, dark-stained oak. He hadn’t decided on drawer pulls yet. He needed something plain, but not standard. Which might not exist. It certainly didn’t at Al’s. But that was a problem for another day. He set the caulk aside and rubbed his hands together. The concrete countertops were heavy. He should be able to lift them himself, but he probably should have asked Danny to come over and help. Saturdays were tricky. And now that the countertops were ready, Jeremiah wanted to get them in.

  With help from a hand cart and some ropes, he got the island countertop in from the garage and lined up with the cabinets. After a deep breath, he hefted one edge up, then the other, and hurried to adjust it to the right position. Smiling, he walked around, scrutinizing each edge. It looked good. Just like he’d pictured when he’d first considered concrete counters. And it didn’t help him envision a tile backsplash at all. Maybe when he got the rest in.

  He reached for the caulk gun, stopping when his phone rang. The number was from out of area. He was used to getting calls from numbers he didn’t know, that was the down side of using your cell phone for business and personal use. Might as well answer it. He was going to need help to do the rest of the counter anyway.

  “Jeremiah Crawford.”

  “Hi. It’s Deidre. McIntyre? I was calling to check on your schedule next week, see if you were available to do some work? I’m trying to get the outside fixed up before I tackle things inside. Which probably doesn’t matter to you.”

  She was a phone rambler. He wouldn’t have guessed that. Jeremiah leaned against the cabinets. “I’m pretty clear. What did you have in mind?”

  “Any chance you could come by this afternoon and I can walk you through it? I’d like to get an estimate—time and cost—before we go further.”

  “I can do that. Are you free afterward? I’m setting my countertops today, thought you might enjoy seeing them.” And maybe helping out. He’d wait to mention that part.

  Deidre’s sigh crackled in his ear. “I’d like that. I’m probably heading over to Waynesboro for dinner anyway. Y’all need a fast food place or two in town.”

  He chuckled. “If you can convince one to come, I’ll frequent them. The cafe on Main isn’t bad, if you’re in the mood for soup and a sandwich. But I’ve never been a fan of Sinclair’s. It’s more bar than anything. Though my friend swears by their nachos.”

  “I like nachos.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He winced. “I…what time do you want me?”

  “Whenever. I’m putting new glass in the broken windows, so I’m here.”

  “All right. I’ll see you in a bit.” Jeremiah ended the call and set the phone down. He crossed to the fridge and considered the contents. He could make nachos. Danny said Jeremiah’s were better than the ones at Sinclair’s. Grabbing a bag of chips at the grocery store on his way up to Peacock Hill wouldn’t take him much out of his way. And then, if it seemed reasonable, he’d offer to fix supper. It wouldn’t be like a date. He found her attractive, sure. He had a pulse. But even the little bit of time he’d been around her, yeah, she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted for himself. He wanted someone like his mom. A woman who enjoyed staying home, wanted kids, someone who’d fix him supper after a long day, that’s what he wanted. Deidre wasn’t any of that. And there was nothing wrong with that, it was her choice. And no one could fault her. She’d made her company an incredible success. Honestly, he’d still like to work for an outfit like that someday, if he ever got out of Podunk.

  He scoffed. Like that would ever happen. He’d had a chance and God had made it pretty clear that he was supposed to stay put. Nothing had changed on that front. Thus, the house. If he was going to be stuck there, it was time to settle down, make it his home.

  Jeremiah shook his head and pushed himself off the cabinets. Might as well wash up and go to Peacock Hill, find out what’s what. And if Deidre stayed for nachos, well, then he’d get a chance to eat with a woman who’d done something he admired. Maybe he could pick her brain, get a few pointers.

  Jeremiah stepped out of the truck and fought to keep his jaw from dropping. The woman worked fast. She’d only been in town a week, and yet she’d managed to replace the roof and the glass in all the windows he could see from the front of the house. Following the sound of hammering, he headed left. She was up on a ladder, working on a window for the third floor. How was she doing all this by herself?

  He waited until she started climbing down before speaking. “It’s looking great.”

  Deidre jolted, clutching the ladder. She blew out a breath and smiled as she stepped to the ground. “Thanks. Maybe don’t sneak up on people on ladders.”

  “Sorry. I thought you saw me.”

  She tugged her phone from her jeans. “You’re quick. Feel like helping with some of these windows? I have a system, but it’s tricky and I’ve nearly dropped two panes. I’d just as soon not replace my replacements.”

  “Sure.” Jeremiah shrugged. Windows were easier with two people. And it’d give him a chance to see what working with her was like. Maybe it’d be easier than he suspected. Besides, she’d owe him then, and have to help with the counters. “You want to go in and work from there? I don’t mind ladders.”

  “Okay.” She pointed to the broken window to the left of the one she’d just finished. “That’s next.”

  Jeremiah watched her walk away. She had a brisk, no-nonsense stride, and for someone as short as she was, she covered the ground quickly. She filled out her jeans in all the right places, too. He shook his head and grabbed the ladder. She wasn’t his type. Even if she was the most attractive woman he’d seen in…a long time. He’d leave it there.

  He climbed the ladder and tugged on his work gloves. She’d already removed the broken glass from the frame. There was a wire brush on the floor by the window. He reached through and grabbed it. There were a few places that needed a bit of scrubbing to remove the old glazing putty.

  Just slightly out of breath, Deidre strode into the room. “Thanks, that was next but I see you know what you’re doing.”

  “I’m glad you’re not putting in modern windows. Even if they’d potentially save on heating and cooling, they never look the same.”

  She nodded and held a rag to the mouth of a bottle. “That’s what I thought.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Linseed oil. It conditions the wood and helps the new glazing adhere better.”
Deidre rubbed around the frame.

  “Nice.”

  “Here. Go ahead and put down a line of putty.”

  They worked well together. She didn’t micromanage, or order him around. She did what she needed to do and seemed to assume he’d do the same. He set the putty knife on top of the can. “All set.”

  Deidre nodded and reached for the pane of glass beside the window. She stripped off the brown paper and passed it through to him. “There are glazier’s points and more putty in that bucket hanging from the top of the ladder.”

  Jeremiah followed her pointing finger. Clever girl. He slid the glass into place, shifting it so it had the right amount of space on each side and was settled into the rabbet groove like it needed to be. Deidre provided counter pressure from the other side, ensuring that it stayed where it needed to. Keeping one hand on the glass, he dipped his hand into the bucket for the small triangles that, placed around the edges of the glass, would keep it in position. He set them, then worked them into the wood frame with the tip of the putty knife he found in the improvised tool-holder as well.

  “Looks good.” Deidre gave him a thumbs-up from inside. “Go ahead and do the seal.”

  Jeremiah pulled off his work gloves and set them in the bucket before collecting a ball of the putty and rubbing it between his hands to form a long snake. When it was the right thickness, he worked it around the edges of the glass. Satisfied that it was good, he took the putty knife and smoothed it into a professional looking bevel.

  “You did this by yourself? Isn’t it usually a two-person job?”

  She shrugged. “I get that a lot. But I can get the job done on my own. And sometimes that’s what matters.”

  With quiet agreement, they moved on to the next. In just a little over an hour, they’d finished that side of the house.

  “That’s plenty. Thanks. I can do the rest. Let me show you the stone that needs repair.” Deidre jerked her head toward the front of the house.

  Jeremiah made his way around and met her on the front steps.

  “You probably don’t need me to point out the problem areas, but…I’m going to anyway.”

  He followed as she pointed to the various spots with damage. He showed her a few that she’d missed. It was good that she seemed to be interested in keeping the house as it was meant to be. She was fixing it up, not turning it into something it wasn’t. Nothing she wanted done was beyond his ability. It was just going to be a matter of time. And finding the right materials.

  They finished circling the house and ended back in front.

  “What do you think?” Deidre tucked her hands in her pockets.

  “All doable. I’ll need to look into the materials, unless you’ve done that already?”

  She shook her head. “It’s on my list. But if you have suppliers already, I’m fine with that.”

  “I have some. I’ll need a little time to draw up a quote. End of next week?”

  “That’ll work. Now, how about those countertops?”

  He grinned. “Sounds good. Want to just ride down with me? That way you don’t have to complain about how slow I drive when someone’s following me.”

  “I was going to head out for dinner after…”

  “I thought I could make some nachos. Break in the new counters.”

  “Are your nachos any good?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “I can’t get over the fact that these are the first ones you’ve made.” Deidre ran her hand over the countertop. “They’re incredible. The veining you did is tricky. I thought you said they were simple?”

  “Well, compared to some of the ones you see online, they are. Anyway, there are some great tutorials out there. You ever watch that show with Paul, oh, what’s his last name? Something Italian, I think. Anyway, it’s kind of a goofy name, ‘Flippin’ for You.’”

  Her face paled, but she nodded. “Rossi. It’s Paul Rossi. I haven’t watched it in a while though. Not a lot of time for TV.”

  “That’s fair. This last season wasn’t as good as the first two, but it’s still interesting to watch. Either way, you should check out his website sometime. He has some great tutorials. The veining was one of his.” Jeremiah patted the surface. “Anyway, why don’t you make yourself at home, and I’ll whip up the nachos.”

  “I’m expecting great things, just so you know. I take my nachos very seriously.” Deidre hoisted herself up on the counter. “So maybe I’ll just stay and watch.”

  He shook his head. She was adorable. Not that he was interested. Her personality wasn’t exactly what he’d thought after their first meeting. Which was a positive bonus. But still. Not looking. Even if his mom did want grandkids. Deidre didn’t strike him as someone who wanted to be a mom. “You’re just going to sit there.”

  “I can chop, if you want, though I kind of feel like I already paid for my supper since I helped you install these babies.”

  “Nah.” He opened the fridge and started pulling out ingredients. “Just watch and be amazed.”

  She chuckled.

  It wasn’t long until he was sliding his biggest tray, covered in chips, meat, beans, and cheese into the oven. “That’s the trick, right there. You have to melt the cheese in the oven. It keeps the chips crisp and blends all the flavors. Microwave just makes things soggy. Then you add the tomatoes, olives, jalapeños, salsa, and sour cream when you serve them.”

  She sniffed. “Smells good. I’ll give you that. Can I help set the table or something?”

  “Sure.” He opened a cabinet and took down two plates. “Silverware’s in the last drawer. Napkins should be on the table. I think I have some soda in the fridge, otherwise we’re stuck with water. Have a preference?”

  “I’ll grab a soda. Want one?”

  Jeremiah slipped his hand into oven mitts and nodded. “Sure.”

  While Deidre set the table, he finished doctoring the nachos and carried them over. “Ta-da.”

  She nodded. “Impressive. I’ve seen worse at restaurants.”

  He laughed and pulled out her chair. “Well, hopefully they’ll live up to your discerning tastes.” Deidre gave him a weird look before she sat. Was he not supposed to hold her chair? His mother would skin him alive if she found out he didn’t. Mentally shrugging it off, he took the chair next to hers and offered his hand. “Can I say grace?”

  “Oh. Sure.” She rested her finger tips on his.

  Even with the tiny point of contact, electricity raced up his arm. Jeremiah ground his teeth together. She wasn’t his type. Maybe if he repeated it to himself he’d finally get the message. He closed his hand around hers and bowed his head. “Thank You, Jesus, for the food we’re about to eat, for keeping us safe on our various work projects today, and for giving us hearts, heads, and hands we can use for Your service. Amen.”

  “Amen.” She pulled her hand out of his as if it was burned and reached for the spatula resting on the side of the tray of nachos. “Let’s see how you did.”

  Jeremiah’s hand was still tingling. Maybe it was some kind of sudden onset neuropathy. He reached for the utensil when she set it down. Huh. He could feel the spatula fine, so he hadn’t pinched a nerve or anything. Scooping up a healthy portion of nachos for his plate, he glanced over at her. “Tell me how you got into construction.”

  Chapter 5

  Deidre slid a loaded chip in her mouth and chewed. The man could make nachos. And countertops. How had someone not snapped him up already? He even had that southern Virginia drawl that wasn’t quite southern but was just a bit softer and gentler on the ears than the no-accent, too-busy-to-think Northern Virginia way of speaking. If she hadn’t given up relationships completely, she might look into snagging him for herself. Her system was still buzzing from holding his hand for a prayer. A prayer. She and God weren’t speaking right now, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to get all tingly inside when someone was praying.

  “It’s a long story.”

  Jeremiah gestured to the nacho
s. “We have a lot of food. And I can make more.”

  She picked up another chip, dunking it into the pool of beans that was sliding off the pile of food on her plate. “Dad was a handyman growing up. He did well enough to support us, but the three of us—me, my brother, and my sister—all got jobs as soon as we could. I got one with him. Mom was annoyed. She wanted me to do something more ladylike, maybe sell clothes or something, but I wanted to be with Dad. He taught me everything he knew and, since college wasn’t in the cards unless I took out a ton of loans or won the lottery, I worked for him while I took a few classes at the community college so I understood the business side of things. Then I got a few certifications and before I knew it, Dad wanted to step back from the business a bit and limit what he took on, so he offered to sell it to me. I took him up on it and…here I am.”

  “But the business is up north.”

  She sighed. “So I’m told. It’s doing okay. They don’t need me, honestly. My sister runs the office, all the crews. I was only there to fight through financial stuff and smooth any ruffled feathers. I can do that from here if I need to. I haven’t had a chance to do any honest work in close to six months. And even then, it was only because I bullied my way onto the job. It feels good to get my hands dirty again.”

  “What will you do when you finish?” Jeremiah popped the top of his soda and took a long drink, his gaze never leaving hers.

  That was the question, wasn’t it? Lisette had shot down all her ideas. And she wasn’t wrong. Not really. Deidre didn’t have the skills to do any of the things she’d like to do with Peacock Hill. But she could learn them. “I don’t know yet.”

  “No immediate plans to sell?”

  She shook her head. That was one thing she wasn’t doing. “No. Not if I can avoid it. It’s a beautiful house. It needs to have people in it.”

  He smiled and something caught in her chest. “It’s good you see that. Get that. I wondered.”