Newness and Wonder

by Alexis Lynne

  He raised his eyebrows in question. “You going to enlighten me, Tara?”

  Her smile grew. “Mmm-hmm. It’s typical over compensation.”

  He laughed. “I don’t think a guy would ever compensate for anything by buying furniture.” He leaned the palms of his hands on the table and smiled, causing a series of thuds to sound in Tara’s ears. “But why don’t you come closer so we can test that theory.”

  Tara felt the heat rise in her cheeks. This man always managed to discombobulate her, even when she thought she was getting the upper hand in the conversation. Justin was a nice guy, clean cut and masculine in a non-threatening way. Every now and then, though, something deliciously wicked came through that all-American goodness, making Tara’s insides squirm and fueling her desire to do something equally wicked in return.

  Justin laughed at her discomfort and walked around the table to her, placed an arm around her waist, and pulled her into a brief hug. He had been openly affectionate with her that morning, and though he never pushed things far, Tara was becoming used to the feel of him.

  “Come on, then. Point me in the right direction. Marley is insisting on us making Thanksgiving dinner this year, and we need a bigger table than the one we have in the kitchen.”

  “Will this be your first time?”

  “Yes, for both of us.” He paused a moment and then looked at her. “You should join us. Maybe you can help keep us from making a mess of things. And Marley talks more when you’re around. It’s nice.”

  Tara looked away. “You don’t need a buffer, Justin. You and Marley are doing great. Probably even better than you realize.”

  He traced his fingers down her arm. “Then come just because we want you there.”

  Swallowing hard, she forced her eyes to meet his. It was a genuine offer. The least she could do was look at him when she rejected it. His eyes were so earnest and full of anticipation that she almost felt guilty over her relief of having a legitimate excuse.

  “I’m on the planning committee for the annual community Thanksgiving dinner. I’ll be working there for most of the day.”

  He nodded and kept lightly stroking her arm. “You should still come some other time. I think it would help to see that we’re not destroying the place, that we’re taking great care to leave most things alone, only fixing what’s absolutely broken or no longer useful. I’d love to hear your opinion on things.”

  “You’re getting my opinion on your furniture choices. Isn’t that enough?”

  Tara walked toward a simple country-style set with an oak-topped table and muted colored chairs in various hues. It should be quirky enough for Marley and functional enough for Justin. It would replace the vintage set that had been there before, the one her grandparents bought second hand when they got married. Her Thanksgivings had been spent at that table. The set was in someone else’s home now, or perhaps Fran just threw it away. Tara would never know.

  Tara wrapped her arms around her stomach. She was too quick to agree to this shopping trip and to everything else. Her interest in him wasn’t waning with familiarity. The physical attraction she could handle. But he was firmly settled in a place she couldn’t go, where she no longer belonged, and no amount of carnal longing was going to change that.

  She felt Justin come up behind her. “It is enough, but I can’t promise that I’ll stop asking. Brandon’s the only friend we’ve had there so far, and his conversation often only comes in grunts and single syllables.”

  Tara laughed and relaxed a little, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. She gestured to the table. “What do you think of this one?”

  He nodded. “It’s good. Let’s take the tag to the counter.”

  Tara cocked her head to the side. “That easy? You took an hour to decide on a lamp shade.”

  He looked down on her with narrowed eyes. “You probably think that’s ugly too, don’t you?”

  “If I say yes will we have to skip lunch while you pick out another one?”

  “It’s entirely possible.”

  “It’s a beautiful shade. The most perfect lamp shade in the history of electrical lighting.”

  He smiled and took her hand. “We’d better feed you before our next stop, or there’s no telling what we’ll go home with.”

  Tara smiled. They were now back in a safe zone where they could flirt and have fun without the pressure of her disappointments weighing on them. Tara was relieved. Justin, though, was disappointed. She could tell the slight difference in his tone and demeanor, and she suspected he was creating a distance for her benefit alone. His patience and thoughtfulness made it all so much harder.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Justin stood at his back door, sipping his black coffee, watching the wind attempt to free the last vestiges of a spectacular autumn from their branches. The trees along the edge of the mountain stubbornly clung to their browning leaves even though their neighbors higher up had relinquished theirs weeks ago. The cold air signaled the change of the season that always came long before the calendar declared it, but the leaves would not yet surrender. Justin admired them. Why should they submit to December when November had been so lovely?

  Behind him the scents of Thanksgiving were beginning to rise from the various concoctions he and his sister had risen early to create. The old house, with all its drafts and signs of renovations, felt like home that morning. Marley seemed content and almost happy as she concentrated on the holiday and creating all the little touches that she added to the kitchen to mark the occasion. Justin was almost as content and would have been fully content if they could’ve added one more person to their small party.

  Tara had become a regular part of their lives. Justin knew it could not have been easy to help Marley outfit a space that had once been so important to her, but Tara did, not only with the light fixtures, but with various other items in the weeks following their day in Dillsboro. She would show him pieces in the store on the days she was working, and he would bring lunch, and the three of them went on more than one excursion searching for the right furniture. With each day spent together, the space between them diminished, their touches became more deliberate and lingering, and his longing for her became an intense ache that he could swear was reflected in her own behavior at times.

  He knew she had been working. She confided in him that she was painting new subjects and that the change both excited and terrified her. Whatever she was painting had her worked up and open, and her excitement drew him to her even more, and she could not hide the fact that she was beginning to feel the same. It shown in her eyes when they were together.

  But every invitation to come and view the space she was helping to create was declined, and even with the growing intimacy between them, there was still a wall he had not been able to scale. He was falling for a woman clinging to the past as stubbornly as the leaves on the trees, and he was becoming as restless as the wind.

  Justin moved from the door and back into the kitchen, where he set down his mug and pushed up his sleeves. Surely restlessness could be cured by rolling out dough or whatever task Marley put him on. She was standing at the counter, struggling with the food chopper they had picked up in town the other day. Neither of them was comfortable with knives. They weren’t comfortable with the oven either, yet there was a large turkey currently roasting in it, proving they weren’t entirely in over their heads.

  “You want me to do that?”

  Marley moved out of the way. “I think the onion is too big. Maybe I should have cut it in half.”

  “Maybe,” Justin croaked out as he pushed hard on the handle. “Or maybe this thing isn’t as easy to use as the box suggests.” The onion gave way to the blades, and Justin stepped back. “When in doubt, blame the tools, right?”

  Marley smiled as she poured the onions into a bowl of bread cubes. “We’re going to have to wait until the turkey comes out to put everything else in. I don’t think we worked out the timing all that well.”

  Looking at the c
lock on the wall, Justin scratched the back of his head. Marley had several dishes ready to go, and the turkey had only been in an hour. According to the instructions they found online, it would need at least three. “I guess we could turn up the oven. If the turkey cooks faster, we can get everything in and eat while it’s still Thanksgiving.”

  Marley looked skeptical but shrugged. “Okay.”

  Justin turned the dial on the oven and then moved back to the counter. “Now what do you want me to do?”

  “Help me tidy up. It’s starting to get out of control in here.”

  Justin smiled and reached for a dishcloth to wipe down the counters. In the hours they had been working on the meal, he learned much about his sister. When they first started cooking, she was the cool, silent creature she always was, methodically following directions and seeming to find confidence in order. As they progressed and the mess, mostly made by Justin, increased, so did her anxiousness that everything go well. He never would have guessed she was a neat freak, but there it was.

  She was also a highly creative being. That was something he should have already understood given she was raised among artists. She had gathered pinecones from around the property and scented them with the same fragrance he found in the soaps in his closet. He would have assumed they should smell like cinnamon, but what did he know. She also tied leaves and greenery into decorative garlands and placed them along the cabinets and tables. This was their first holiday as a family, and it touched him that she was trying to make it special.

  He reached over and ruffled her hair. She looked confused for a moment, but she smiled and handed him a roll of sausage before grabbing two apples from the fruit basket. “Can you cook the sausage while I try to chop the apples?”

  “Okay, just don’t cut off a thumb. Nothing ruins a holiday like a trip to the emergency room.”

  She started to smile but then paled and pointed behind him. “Um, what about a visit from the fire department?”

  “What?” Justin smelled smoke and quickly turned to the stove. “Shit!”

  He opened the oven door, and smoke billowed out followed by sparks from the top coil. He turned off the oven, pulled out the turkey, and quickly closed the door again. Smoke had filled the kitchen, surrounding the sister whose content expression had disappeared, replaced by a look of abject disappointment. It broke his heart.

  “Hey, kiddo. It’s okay. It’s just a turkey.”

  She looked helpless as she raised her arms.

  “It’s everything.”

  Justin looked around at the dressing, sweet potatoes, and rolls that sat waiting on the counter. They couldn’t cook a meal in an oven that shot sparks. He put his arm around her, and surprisingly, she didn’t pull away.

  “No, it’s not. We’ll still have Thanksgiving. Just not here. I’m disappointed, too, but there’s always next year. By then we’ll have a new kitchen with a stove that won’t catch fire.”

  That must have been the right thing to say because she nodded and moved to clear the counter. He stopped her.

  “Don’t worry about that right now. Just put things back in the fridge while I unplug the stove and open a window. Then we’ll go somewhere where the turkey was meant to be smoked.”

  Marley nodded again and went to her task, still looking as if someone had just kicked her dog.

  * * *

  “Well, what’s the damage?”

  Tara pulled off her apron and checked her dress for signs of prep work gone astray. She and Shelby, along with a dozen other minions, had labored under their aunt’s supervision as they prepared the community Thanksgiving dinner. Most of the dishes had been delivered by local volunteers from the various churches in the community either the night before or that morning, so the majority of the work had been setting up tables and warming food. Still, Tara knew she must be a mess.

  Shelby, still perfectly put together in spite of the morning’s toil, looked her over from head to toe. “Not a crumb on you. That dress looks great, by the way. I’m surprised you dressed up.”

  Tara shrugged. “I didn’t know when else I’d wear it.”

  That was a lie. Tara had bought the rust-colored sweater dress specifically for Thanksgiving. Even knowing that Marley and Justin were working hard on their own meal, she harbored hopes of seeing them, seeing him. That would require her driving out to the farm, however, and she still wasn’t ready to see it in the hands of somebody else, even someone who deserved it.

  Justin. The thought of him came on like a breathless sigh. November always brought change to the valley as nature prepared to switch seasons. This year was no different, except she had spent much of it with him, and the slight melancholy she would normally feel once all the leaves had fallen never came. Her work had a lot to do with that, but she wouldn’t deny Justin’s role.

  He was not so firmly lodged in the friend zone as she would have liked. Tara never pulled away when he touched her or when he said her name with such tenderness it made her ache all the way to her toes. Her time with Justin and Marley was special to her, and a big part of her wanted more of it.

  Still, now that she could drive to the farm and be with them, pinpricks formed on her neck. She knew the feeling. It was the same one that came from standing in front of a blank canvas too long—blocked and unsure how to move forward, no matter how much she wanted to. So instead of grabbing her purse and keys, she hung up her apron and turned back to her sister.

  “Are you ready to eat? I think I heard Father Alex finish with the blessing.”

  “Yeah, let’s go. Aunt Lady is out there making the rounds, and Charlotte and Brandon have probably already made it through the line.”

  They pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen into the gathering hall just as two weary-looking figures finished shaking hands with the priest. Butterflies shot through her, immediately being tempered by the dejected look on Justin’s and Marley’s faces. She walked to them.

  “What happened?”

  Justin grimaced as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Apparently, Thanksgiving is the wrong time to test out an old oven.”

  Standing beside her, Shelby gasped. “You’ve been there for almost two months, and you haven’t used the oven?”

  Both Justin and Marley looked down. “We’ve barely mastered the stovetop. We have gotten really good at hot dogs and mac and cheese, though.”

  Shelby placed her hand over her heart. The future Pinterest mom in her obviously could not bear the thought of a child eating boxed mac and cheese more than once a year. She put her arm around Marley.

  “Come on, sweetie. We have loads of food to choose from.” She started to lead Marley away. “We’ll save you guys seats.”

  Thankfully, Justin seemed more amused than offended by Shelby’s look of horror. “I’m glad you told me about this, otherwise I think our only option would have been the casino buffet.”

  “I’m sorry.” She genuinely was, knowing how much it had meant to them. She was also glad she could spend the day with him and still be a coward. Being with Justin felt good, and after all the time she was spending in front of the canvas, allowing inspiration to draw from places she had no desire to go, Tara needed this feeling. The shock of seeing them there gave way to the butterflies. Determined not to think about it too much, she rose on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m glad you’re here, though.”

  She felt him sigh as his arms came around her waist. “I missed you the last few days.”

  Her grip tightened as he pulled her closer. His hands rested low on her back, and she felt his warm breath on her neck just before his lips grazed her there. It was a slight motion, but it was enough to send a jolt of sensation right through her. His mouth moved from her neck to her ear.

  “Do you have any idea how you look in that dress? I haven’t seen the inside of a confessional since my confirmation. If I don’t let you go now, Father over there is likely to drag me into one by my ear.”

  Tara let out a small, s
haky laugh as Justin pulled back. Thankfully, he left one arm around her as they moved to the line at the food tables. That slight contact had left her wobbly.

  “This isn’t going away, you know, this thing between us.”

  She looked up at him as he handed her a plate as casually as he had just said those words. Those very true words. “No, it’s not.”

  “So we might as well make a go of it, a real, honest effort to get past whatever we need to and see where we can go. We can take it slow, Tara, make sure no one gets hurt.”

  She swallowed and kept her eyes on him as he led her down the line. His voice had seemed to hypnotize her, and though his tone was casual, his eyes spoke of his seriousness. It took a moment to find the words. “I want to—”

  That must have been enough of a confirmation because before the “but” she had been forming could sound, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, a bit farther over than the ones he had given her before, but still not far enough. He then leaned over and kissed the other side. What should have been completely innocent sent her blood boiling as she felt the skin of his cheek softly graze against hers. She was lost to the feeling of him and desperately wanted to go in for more, just not in front of the mashed potatoes.

  “Do you think the priest saw us?”

  The mischievous glint in Justin’s eyes made her laugh through the shock of longing that pulsed through her. It had barely been more than a peck, but it was enough to make her want more, which, she believed, was the whole point. She couldn’t be mad at him, though. He had proven it well.

  “I think you’re safe.” Still within the confines of his arm, she set her plate down and turned slightly, grazing against him as she reached for a roll. His grip on her waist tightened, and she felt far more wicked than she should considering the block that was still firmly rooted. Apparently, she was becoming comfortable with the contradiction. She looked up at him, pleased to see she had thrown him off kilter for once. “At least for now.”

  Chapter Fourteen