Worth the Wait

by Traci Douglass

  “Nah. I won’t have time.” She wiped her mouth then closed up her empty container. “Between waitressing at the diner and getting this place back in shape and the new job I’m applying for on Monday, my schedule should be pretty full.”

  “New job?”

  “Yeah, just something part-time. To help supplement my income. L.A.’s an expensive place to live. Why?”

  “No reason.” He pushed to his feet and threw his own trash away. If she wanted to get another job, good for her. It would mean even less time they’d have to spend together around the house. He should be overjoyed. Ecstatic. Heaviness weighted down his gut beyond the Chinese food he’d just eaten. “Don’t forget the proceeds from when I buy out your half of this place.”

  “Hmm.” She moved in beside him at the counter. “You really think you’ll have the money to do that anytime soon?”

  “Yep.” He forced a confidence he didn’t quiet feel. One hundred grand was a lot of cash to come up with, but he’d find a way. “We’ll get the value reassessed after the renovations.”

  “There’s just so much to do around here,” she said, sighing. “It’s overwhelming.”

  “Nah. I can’t wait to dig in.” A bit of his old energy returned at the thought of all the painting and building and buffing. “I’ll do as much of the work myself as possible. Mark and Jack said they’ll help, too. I know what I’m doing. I’ll make sure it’s up to code.”

  Mandy nodded, rubbing her arms, her gaze lowered. “Guess that’s it, then. You sure you’re okay staying here tonight? I’m calling an Uber back to Gina’s place. I can drop you at the hotel again if you want.”

  “No, I’m good.” He followed her back to the front of the house while she used her phone, then waited with her in the foyer until a driver pulled up to the curb a few minutes later. They walked out onto the porch together.

  “Well, thanks for dinner.” She jogged down the front steps then turned back to him. “I’ll be by tomorrow to drop off some of my stuff.”

  Alex gave a curt nod, waiting until her Uber pulled away before going back inside and locking the door. After working hard all day, he should’ve been exhausted, but his mind kept circling back to Mandy. She couldn’t wait to escape this place and follow her dreams to La La Land, but he already loved the house. It was his way to prove to himself and the world that he was still capable, that he could still handle things, that he was more than a guy with a limp who’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

  He stood in the hall, staring at the wainscoting again before shutting off the lights.

  Maybe in restoring this place, he could restore a little of his soul, too.

  Chapter Four

  Sunday morning, Mandy took Bubba for a walk, heading toward the bustling town center of Heavenly Falls. Dappled late-autumn sunshine shone through the bare branches above, and brightly colored leaves swirled around her feet in the chilly breeze.

  She had a rare day off from the diner and had planned to fill it by packing up her stuff at Gina’s place to cart over to the house later. But as she strolled along, stopping periodically so Bubba could smell each tree and hydrant, memories of her dinner with Alex the previous evening filtered back into her mind. He’d mentioned having anxiety attacks, and she could understand wanting his privacy, but there had to be more to his attachment to that house than just a desire to save a historic place. She’d noticed the occasional flash of deeper pain and loneliness beneath his prickly exterior that first day when they’d toured the place with Mr. Pickett and had glimpsed it again last night. Her nature and training made her more perceptive to people’s mannerisms, and Alex’s body language all but screamed wounded warrior. But he still hadn’t told her more about what had happened to him, and she didn’t want to ask for fear of driving him further inside his hard-candy shell, no matter how curious she was.

  She waited at the corner with Bubba for the light to turn green, biting her lip. Food trucks were parked at the town square nearby, and her stomach rumbled. Mandy got an egg toastie and a side of turkey sausages for Bubba, then settled on a deserted bench nearby.

  While she ate, she scanned the area, spotting a few familiar storefronts and lots of new ones on Main Street. The sharp smell of burning leaves brought back childhood memories, the holidays at the Noonan household on their big old property on the other side of town. Playing tag football in the backyard. Sharing large family meals. Always having someone around to talk to or share your day with. Alex teasing her to make her laugh after she’d failed an algebra test.

  Her heart pinched before she tamped it down. Sometimes Mandy feared she’d never find that kind of happiness again, that she’d end up falling into the same trap her mother did, always chasing the greener grass on the next hill instead of blooming where you were planted.

  She fed Bubba another sausage and sighed. Then again, though, being an actress was by nature a traveling type of career. And she did love what she did—exploring new characters, getting inside their heads, bringing them to life, maybe giving people insights into their own hearts and problems through the catharsis of theater. Besides, nothing was permanent or guaranteed, and she was happier on the road.

  Aren’t I?

  The ember of grief reignited in her chest, burning deep. She missed her mother so badly sometimes it became a physical ache, choking the breath from her lungs. And even though she still didn’t quite understand why her mother had left her half the house as her inheritance instead of money, like she had Gina, it didn’t make her any less grateful. Grateful and sad. She’d have given any inheritance up immediately for just one more day with her mother.

  She finished her food then tossed the trash before heading back to Gina’s with Bubba.

  Based on the dog’s shaggy coat and smushed nose, the vet had guessed him to be part shih-tzu, part pug, and maybe a bit of Havanese thrown in for fun. Whatever he was, Bubba was cute as heck, and people stopped them several times to ask about him. By the time they got home half an hour later, they were both parched and tired.

  “Hey,” Gina said from the kitchen table, hunched over her morning coffee. She was five years younger than Mandy and took after her Greek father, with his dark hair and eyes and tanned olive skin. Mandy took after their Irish mother, pale and blond.

  “Hey.” Mandy unclipped Bubba’s leash, then hung it on a hook by the door. “What time did you get home last night?”

  “After two.” Gina ran a hand through her riot of curls, yawned, then took another swig of caffeine. “It was open mic night, so at least the tips were good. How are things going at the house?”

  “Okay, I guess.” She slumped down in a chair, her shoulders sagging.

  Gina raised a dark brow. “That doesn’t look like ‘okay’ to me.”

  “It’s just going to take longer than I wanted.” Mandy sat back and straightened, doing her best to stay positive. “Alex moved in already last night. He’s determined to buy me out. Eventually.”

  “That’s good though, right? I mean that he wants to take your half. Saves you from finding another buyer?” Bubba scratched at Gina’s legs and she bent over to pick him up, frowning. “I mean the whole living there together in the interim will be weird, but still. Which you don’t have to do, by the way. You can stay here as long as you want.”

  “No. I’ve already imposed too much on your hospitality. Besides, it’s my inheritance, too, so I should be there to help with the renovations.”

  “Do you know anything about restoring a house?” Gina asked, in between kisses to Bubba’s head.

  “No. But I’ve watched This Old House videos online.” They both snorted. “Fine. It’s not the same thing, but I just feel like I should be there.”

  “Okay. Your choice. Just know that if things don’t work out, you’ve always got a place to crash here.” Gina put Bubba down then picked up her mug again. “How’s Alex?”

 
; “Different.” She toed off her sneakers then glanced at the envelope Mr. Pickett had given her from Mom, propped up on the kitchen counter, still unopened. Mandy hadn’t had the heart before, and now just didn’t seem like the right time. Not with moving and adjusting to Alex and everything else going on. She’d get to it, eventually, once things had settled down a bit. “He used to be Mr. Popular, back when I knew him thirteen years ago, but he’s changed.” She laughed and stared down at her toes. “I guess we all have, but it’s just strange is all. Seeing him now. With the limp.”

  “He’s got a limp?” Gina frowned over the rim of her coffee cup. “Why?”

  “Not sure. He won’t tell me how he got injured, and I don’t feel comfortable asking.”

  “Interesting.” Gina grinned. “Is he still cute?”

  “What?” Mandy frowned at her half-sister. “No.” Yes. “I mean I guess he’s fine.”

  “You mean like capital F-I-N-E fine?”

  “I mean like I hadn’t really noticed.” Liar. She shifted her weight, tucking one foot beneath her. “We’ve decided to keep things neighborly—only between us.”

  “Neighborly?” Gina gave her a look. “As in, ‘Like a Good Neighbor stay over there’?”

  “Exactly.” Mandy exhaled slow. “And it’s better that way. I mean, I’ll be leaving for California as soon as we get the place fixed up, and he’s going to stay in the house and do whatever it is he does now. It’s all good.”

  “Hmm.” Gina didn’t sound convinced. She’d always been far too perceptive for Mandy’s comfort and looked like she wanted to ask more, but thankfully let it drop. “You’re probably right. Keep it civil, get the house done, then get on with your life.”

  “Yep.” Mandy bit the inside of her cheek, tamping down the unwanted uncertainty inside her. “Maybe you can join me in L.A. someday. I’m sure they need costume designers. How’s the new collection going?”

  “With working extra shifts at the bar it’s hard to find the time to get it all done.” Gina stared up at the ceiling. “Which reminds me, I saved you some boxes from the bar.”

  She didn’t need many, since she never had much. Another holdover from the frequent moves during childhood. “Thanks.”

  “Is Alex going to do most of the renovations himself?” Gina asked, getting up and walking into the kitchen to open the fridge. “With his dad’s business and all, he should have lots of help.”

  “That’s the thing, though. From what his friend Jack said, Alex is estranged from his dad. I think it’s all tied up with his injury, but I’m not sure how.”

  “Huh. They used to be pretty close, didn’t they?” Gina plopped back into her chair and peeled the foil lid off a strawberry yogurt container.

  “Yep.” Mandy was far more intrigued than she should be. She didn’t want to get involved. She had her own goals here, her own future to think of. Alex and his issues weren’t her problem, and he’d clearly stated he didn’t welcome her nosing around in his business. She should leave it, leave him, be. Never mind the compelling need to investigate buzzing inside her. He wasn’t her mystery to solve. And maybe if she told herself that enough times, her brain would get the hint.

  Instead, her traitorous mind flashed an image of them playing cards in the kitchen. Up until he’d firmly slammed the door on her curiosity last night, things had been…nice. Easy even. Routine. Which only made her feel more restless. She didn’t like routine. Routine meant attachment. And getting too attached meant getting hurt. Alex all but had a neon sign flashing above his head, Keep Away. She’d be a fool to ignore that.

  As Gina devoured her yogurt, she watched Mandy, and the itch to change subjects grew too strong to ignore. Mandy shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. “Did I tell you I’m applying for another part-time job tomorrow?”

  “No.” Gina paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “Where?”

  “A daycare in town called the Playground, reading to kids. It’s affiliated with the homeless shelter nearby.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of it. Good cause,” Gina said. “You like kids, so that should be perfect.”

  “I hope so.” Mandy checked the time. “You have to work later?”

  “Yeah. I picked up an extra shift at the bar again. More karaoke tonight.”

  “Cool.” Mandy got up and grabbed one of the empty boxes in the corner. “Well, I best get a move on then. The Uber I ordered is due here soon.”

  An hour later, a gray Prius pulled up at the curb, and Gina helped her carry the boxes downstairs while Mandy handled Duckie’s tank and supplies. They loaded up the trunk, then Gina gave her an awkward hug around the fish tank.

  “Thanks for helping,” Mandy said. “I’ll see you when you get home tonight.”

  “Yep.” Gina held the car door open for her. “Have fun with Alex.”

  …

  Back at the house, Alex let Mark and Jack in, their arms loaded with tools and equipment.

  “Sorry we’re late. We would’ve been here an hour ago if Jack hadn’t insisted on tinkering with old Betsy again.” Mark tugged off his jacket to reveal an Accountants Cuddle Better T-shirt. “How’d it go here last night?”

  “Fine,” Alex answered, shifting his weight to take pressure off his left leg. The bullet had shattered his tibia. Two metal plates and forty screws later, the ortho surgeons had managed to put him back together again like a bionic Humpty Dumpty.

  “No more spider emergencies?” Jack chuckled, setting his stuff aside.

  “Nope.” Alex headed into the parlor. “Whenever you guys are ready, we can move this huge piece of fretwork into place.”

  Jack rested his arm on the banister near the staircase. “Hey, you got beer—I got brawn.”

  “Green Frog Ale’s in the kitchen.” Alex hiked his thumb toward the end of the hall.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Jack grinned.

  “It’s over here,” Alex said, pointing to a long, intact section of decorative trim resting against the wall. He’d found it behind some tarps in the dining room and was still amazed the precious thing had remained untouched over the years. “I’d like to use it to divide this area from the dining room.”

  “Looks like solid mahogany.” Mark whistled, grabbing one side of the fretwork alongside Alex. Jack gripped the other side, and together they slowly moved the piece into place and got it secured.

  “Looks good.” Alex patted the ornate woodwork, lightness filling his chest. It was just one thing, but it was a start. “Thanks, guys.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Jack said, heading for the kitchen.

  “You busy this weekend?” Mark asked, wiping the dust off his hands with a rag. “We’re gonna check out a new bar. They’ve got karaoke.”

  Alex hid his cringe, barely. He and karaoke went together like glue and peanut butter. Not to mention all those people. Just thinking about the crowds made his mouth dry. “Yeah, I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll stay here and get more stuff unpacked.”

  Mark looked like he wanted to argue, but Jack returned with a bottle of ale in his hand, cutting him off. “Where should I start working? Second floor again?”

  “That would be great,” Alex said, the building tension between his shoulder blades releasing. “You can help me prep the stair treads and secure the railings.”

  “Sure thing.” Jack strapped on a tool belt then picked up his old boom box and headed upstairs. “See you guys later.”

  Alex turned to Mark. “You working on the wainscoting in the hallway?”

  “Stain is my specialty,” Mark said, following Alex across the foyer to the living room where a large worktable was set up against one wall.

  “Cool. I got stripper, gloves, everything you said you needed.”

  “Awesome.”

  Mark started mixing his stain while Alex returned to the stairs and pried off
a loose endcap. While he worked, his mind wandered back to the dinner with Mandy. He still couldn’t figure out why he’d told her about his anxiety attacks, but now that it was out there, he felt too exposed, and he didn’t like it one bit. His skin felt too small for his body, and he resisted the urge to scratch and fidget. Not to mention he swore he could still feel the warmth of her pressed against him on that damned ladder. It was nuts. He had no business remembering her soft curves and silky hair. The whole situation was unexpected and unsettling. God. Maybe he needed to get laid. It had been a while. So perhaps sex would solve his problem.

  Or not. Because sex with Mandy was not on the table.

  Nope.

  Is it?

  Of course it wasn’t. He sanded the edge of the wood harder than needed, scowling down at the step he was working on. Getting involved with anyone these days, even temporarily, was ridiculous. He was crappy company since the shooting. Too moody. Too easily startled. Too cynical. At least that was what Felicity, his ex-fiancée, had said. She’d run for the hills and he didn’t blame her. He’d have escaped the situation, too, if he could’ve. But no. He was stuck here, where everything was different, his leg ached constantly, and regrets were never far away.

  A key scraped in the lock on the front door, followed by footsteps as Mandy burst inside, her arms full of boxes. “Hey! I brought some things over from Gina’s. Figured I’ll put them upstairs then start on more cleaning.”

  Alex gave a low grunt as she passed him on her way to the second floor, not looking at her for fear she’d see the odd bubble of relief swelling inside him at her presence. And what the hell was that all about? They’d spent a total of two days together and now she was like some freaking rainbow banishing his shadows?

  Alex snorted and shook his head. What a load of crap. He was here for the house, for the promise of doing something worthwhile, for the promise of being someone worthwhile again. That was all. No romance, no emotions, no problems.