“In a way, I live it.”
“Yeah you do.” Jenna smirked as she lowered back down into a squat in front of her wood pile, raised her hammer, and sent the business end of the steel-tipped object crashing down right on top of her thumb.
Hard.
Jenna screamed as pain radiated down her arm. Ruby fell to the floor, the jewel-inlaid hammer clattering at her feet and sending the small pile of nails she’d assembled scuttling in every direction.
“My thumb!” she screeched, holding her fist tightly against her chest as a hot rush of tears pushed against the backs of her eyes. She’d been daydreaming while she worked, her thoughts becoming more and more distracted as she hammered each of the nails into the wood planks. She’d nipped her thumb once or twice, but the last blow had been a full-contact bang. It didn’t smart, it seared, and her whole body was awash with pain. “Son of a banana tree, that hurts so bad!”
“Let me see.” Ben immediately stopped what he was doing and rushed over, pulling her hand into his so he could see the damage.
Somehow, Ben’s touch made the pain hurt even more. “No!” Jenna wrenched her hand back, dancing around the room in angry little hops as she tried to fan the pain out of her fingers. The tears were leaking out through her eyes now, and she clamped her eyelids shut to dam them.
Jenna felt Ben move behind her, trying to catch her like she was a butterfly evading a net. “Let me see.”
“No, please leave me alone.” It was hard to speak around the pain.
Growling with frustration, Ben abandoned the chase and rushed to the cooler. He plucked out the plastic baggie containing his sandwich, tossed the leftovers from his lunch out, and refilled the sack with ice cubes from the cooler. Jenna gave up on shaking the pain out of her poor finger and stuck the tip of it in her mouth, trying to suck the hurt out instead. Aunt May had taught her once how to do that with bee stings. It probably wouldn’t work with hammer injuries, but she was willing to give it a try.
“Give me your hand.”
She heard Ben’s voice, demanding this time, somewhere behind her.
Jenna planted her feet and shook her head, still fixated on the awful sensation in her finger. The sharp sting of the pain had lessened but not diminished. It was now all the way up to her elbow. Tears had started to stream down her cheeks without her permission, and she couldn’t be sure if they were from pain or embarrassment—or both. She felt Ben’s hand on her shoulder and scooted away.
“No.” The word came out in a whimper. She could feel her heartbeat in her thumb, and it throbbed. “It’ll burn.”
“Jenna.” Ben sighed, his tone patient. Jenna felt the icy coolness of the plastic bag on her back as Ben planted both hands on her shoulders and spun her to face him, painfully pulsing thumb and embarrassing tears and all.
Ben seemed surprised to see the tears collected on her cheeks, but he didn’t remark on them or give her one of those pandering looks men sometimes did when they saw women cry. Instead, he reached for the handkerchief in his back pocket, then shook it out and lifted it to her cheek. Very softly, he patted her tears dry. In return, Jenna allowed him to take her hand and he did, pressing the bag of ice against her thumb and inspecting her hand gingerly so as to not induce any additional discomfort.
“It doesn’t look too bad. Nothing’s broken, nothing’s bleeding.” The sharp pain in her thumb seemed to recede, leaving a powerful ache in its wake held in check by the pressure of Ben’s skin against hers.
Jenna sniffed between sobs. Her eyes were still wet, but the tears had stopped. Her face flushed. “It hurts.”
Ben lifted the ice bag enough to peer more closely at her injury. “The ice will prevent swelling and the cold will help the pain,” he promised, looking from her thumb to her face as he spoke to make sure she was listening. His gaze caught hers and with their eyes locked, Ben leaned in and laid a chaste kiss on Jenna’s thumb. The gesture felt automatic, familiar and endearing, and Jenna’s breath caught in her throat.
A cool spot bloomed on her skin from where Ben’s lips had touched her. From there it spread upward, chasing away the throbbing in a pleasurable flood of sensation until her heartbeat in her throat pulsed back to its rightful place in her chest. “Did you just kiss my boo-boo?”
“I suppose I did.” Ben sounded surprised, and red blossomed on his cheeks.
He blinked but when his eyes reopened, his gaze was still locked on hers, and Jenna felt the same magnetic tug she had before.
The cool spot on Jenna’s thumb sent shivers down her spine. “Thanks.”
Still holding her hand in his, Ben drifted closer, filling the space between them. He lifted her thumb to his lips again, brushing a second soft kiss across her finger, which no longer hurt even the tiniest bit. Jenna stepped into his embrace, still gazing up into his eyes as his grip slipped from her hand and slid down her arm, landing at her elbow.
Jenna’s body anchored against him, Ben’s voice came out thick. “Is it feeling any better?”
Her thumb? Was it still throbbing? “I have no idea ... yes?” She cleared her throat, pulled back from the gravity of his arms. “We should get back to it.”
Ben let her go, smiling. “Not with your thumb-sicle. Why don’t we knock off early today? It’s almost quitting time anyway.” He checked his watch and ran his hand back through his hair, but looked away when she spoke. “What do you say, want to spend another meal together? I know a great place that doesn’t mind the dust or sweat—or a bandaged thumb.”
Was it the pain in her thumb speaking, or was he was asking her out? Either way, the offer was strangely attractive, even if it did involve going out into public looking as if she’d been rolling around in a sawmill. A matter of days ago, she’d have rather starved than eat a piece of toast with Ben Fletcher. Now, she was sad to decline the invitation. “Sarah’s making dinner.”
Ben waved away her apology. “Another time, maybe.”
An idea sparked in Jenna’s mind. “Why don’t you join us? She’d love to have you over, if you’re interested.”
“How do you know that?”
Jenna wasn’t sure, but she felt confident she could bring Sarah around to the idea of feeding an extra mouth on short notice. “Because she always cooks too much food,” Jenna said. “She loves to cook. She’s an amazing baker, too. Besides, I’m sure she’d love to hear how the renovations are coming, and I don’t think she totally trusts my opinion.”
Ben hesitated, shifting nervously on his feet, but he didn’t say no. “I don’t want to impose on family.”
“It’s not an imposition. Like I said, Sarah always cooks plenty of food. But—” She gave Ben a sly smile. “My sister is less forgiving about sweat and drywall dust at the dinner table.”
Ben laughed and the sound washed the look of uncertainty from his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll shower first.”
Electricity bubbled under Jenna’s skin. “So that’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes. I’d be happy to join your family for dinner.”
The pain in Jenna’s thumb was totally gone now, replaced by another sensation—excitement. “I’ll call and let her know you’re coming.”
Chapter Eighteen
“I’ve had more than a few home-cooked meals in my life, but I can safely say not many were as good as this one.” Ben leaned back in his chair to prove his compliment, resting both hands atop his stomach. “Everything was absolutely delicious, Sarah. Thank you for having me over.”
Sarah smiled and Jenna thought it was the first genuine one she’d seen her sister give all week. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that all the plates had been cleared and not a scrap of uneaten food remained in any of the serving dishes. The conversation around the table throughout dinner had been just as satisfying, and the array of pies Sarah had prepared for dessert made the end of the meal extra sweet.
“Thank you for joining us,” Sarah said as she refilled his glass with chilled white wine. After another round of top o
ffs, she returned the bottle to its place at the center of table. “Jenna talks about you a lot.”
Ben raised an eyebrow, hiding a smile behind a sip of wine. “Oh does she?”
Jenna caught her fork before it hit the plate. “I wouldn’t say a lot,” she shot back. “Just whenever it’s relevant—about the renovations at Aunt May’s.”
She glared at her sister as she sipped from her glass, hoping Sarah could read the message written in her eyes: shut up.
Sarah returned a devious glance and looked as if she intended to press the matter, but Mike cleared his throat at the other end of the table and Sarah changed course. “So how’s the house coming? Jenna is keeping us all in suspense with the renovations.”
“It’s not suspense, it’s a project,” Jenna clarified. “Sometimes there isn’t much to tell—or I’m too tired to tell it, anyway. We’ve finished with the demolition, which was therapeutic. Who would have thought breaking down walls could feel so good? But once we got the walls down and started to open up the downstairs, everything else has been falling into place.” Sometimes literally, she thought. She’d nearly been the victim of a collapsing chunk of sheetrock once or twice. Her thumb was still throbbing inside its mummy bandage, the temporary pain relief she’d experienced while being lost in Ben’s eyes long gone.
Sarah cut at her strawberry pie, thoughtful. “I bet. The house was in pretty bad shape before Aunt May went into the home, and I know the climate hasn’t done it any favors since. I can only imagine what you two must be having to do to bring it back.”
Jenna shot a quick glance across the table at Ben. Oh, if she wanted, she could give Sarah a list—a long one. The truth, though, was the list was not only long, but slow. Things she’d thought would be easy fixes had a peculiar habit or becoming big chores, mostly because Ben insisted they be carried out with the utmost precision—and his idea of perfection often conflicted with hers. Then again, she wasn’t exactly complaining about all the extra time they were spending together. Not yet, at least. And they were doing just fine with the budget. “Ben is a stickler on making sure everything is done just right. Maybe a little too much of a stickler.”
“Impossible,” he argued, snapping his eyes meaningfully to her bandaged thumb. “I just have high standards.”
“I can appreciate that,” Mike chimed in from the head of the table. “No sense doing a job halfway.”
Sarah laughed. “I don’t think Jenna has ever done anything halfway in her life.”
Jenna raised her glass in mock salute to her sister. Finally. It felt good to have Sarah back on her side, rather than harassing her about Ben.
“Oh, I believe it,” Ben agreed. “She’s every bit as much of a perfectionist as I am. No doubt about that.” He took a bite of the pie, moaned his appreciation to Sarah as he chewed, then waved his fork between the two women. “I imagine you two were close growing up?”
Sarah and Jenna shared a look. “By some miracle, yes,” Sarah confirmed.
“What do you mean?”
“I was a tomboy, always out with my dad, banging nails and finding ways to get dirty outside,” Jenna explained. “Sarah was always inside baking with Mom, or gardening. We were total opposites.”
“We still are,” Sarah interjected. She reached across the table and gave Mike’s hand a pat. “I couldn’t wait to settle down and have a family of my own. Jenna wanted nothing more than to chase her dreams back to the States.”
The implication in Sarah’s words made Jenna bristle. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to settle down or have a family; both of those were definitely on her to-do list at some point. She just hadn’t had the chance yet. If only Darren... No, she scolded herself. Breaking up with Darren Taylor had been the right decision. She had to cut her losses sometime. Still, was leaving the islands to chase her dreams really such a bad thing? Jenna didn’t think so—and she was getting a little tired of asking herself the question.
“But it would have been nice if you had been in the kitchen with us more often,” Sarah was saying.
Jenna blinked out of her thoughts and back to the conversation. “And it would have been nice if you had spent more time outside with me and Dad.”
“I suppose.” Sarah’s tone had grown terse.
Jenna sensed the familiar argument looming, and directed her attention back to Ben. “Despite our obvious differences, my sister and I have a lot in common.” Perhaps now was a good time to share the realization she’d had about why Aunt May had left her house to both sisters, and not just one. “I build and Sarah bakes, but the two things aren’t really all so different. We both create beautiful things with our hands, shaping raw ingredients into something whole and complete. I think Aunt May knew that better than we did, and that’s why she left her house to both of us—so we could rebuild something together. We aren’t literally working on the renovation in the same way, but I’m using the skills Dad taught me, and Sarah is discovering new ways to use hers.”
“May was a wise woman,” agreed Ben, “maybe a little too wise, actually. She always knew how to help people see their truest selves by living every day in the spirit of Aloha. She truly was a woman of the islands. What was it she used to say—I ka nana no a 'ike.”
“By observing, one learns,” translated Jenna. She gave her sister a wistful smile. Yep, that sounded like Aunt May.
Mike rose from his seat and began gathering dishes. “Well, in that case, I’ve enjoyed enough meals to have learned what comes after dessert. Who’s ready for coffee?”
Ben put his napkin on the table and rubbed his palms together. “I know I am. Here, let me give you a hand.”
“Not a chance!” Sarah swatted away Ben’s hand. She snatched up his plate and waved it between him and Jenna. “You two have been working hard all day, every day. Go relax out on the porch. We’ll take care of this.”
While Sarah and Mike tidied up the dining table, Jen and Ben retired to the back porch with their mugs. Jenna protested at first, but then Mike shooed her out of the kitchen, pushing Ben out behind her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think her sister and brother-in-law were up to something.
Then again, they probably were.
Jenna sat in the two-person swing and patted the open seat, then held the bench still so it didn’t rock when Ben took the space beside her. The two rocked quietly for a few moments, sipping their coffee and taking in the view as the sun set behind the Pacific. Despite growing up on the islands, Jenna had never outgrown the beauty of a Hawaiian sunset. A sky awash in brushstrokes of indigo and blue. The pointed green fingers of palms waving lazily as they painted the sky. The salty scents of ocean sprinkled on the evening breeze. Jenna let her gaze wander over the display of leafy green ferns and blooming hibiscus surrounding Sarah’s back porch. She teased her sister, but Sarah truly was an incredible gardener. Just like she had their mother’s aptitudes in the kitchen, Sarah had Aunt May’s green thumb. Jenna’s succulents were probably dead on her windowsill back in LA.
“So,” Ben started after a few minutes, “how long were you and your ex together?”
“Four years.” She almost asked what prompted the question, but decided against it. It didn’t matter.
“That’s a pretty big investment.”
And you haven’t even taken into account relationship equity, Jenna thought. She swallowed the grunt in her throat. “I should have known it wasn’t going anywhere. I was too wrapped up in my career to see clearly, and so was he. I don’t know if we fell apart or just timed out.”
Ben’s voice was even. “So what now?”
“Now I take it day by day. I wasn’t kidding about demo day being cathartic. Honestly, I feel a little better with every wall I demolish.” She meant it. Patti had once encouraged Jenna to try one of those stress programs that had you shatter dishes in a padded room. She’d thought it an utterly preposterous idea at the time, but now it didn’t seem so crazy. Jenna bumped her shoulder against Ben’s. Hopefully her gra
titude would transfer through the touch.
He relaxed in the seat beside her. “But we’re done knocking down walls,” he teased, “unless you want to forego finishing the upstairs bedrooms and just sleep in the kitchen.”
Jenna swallowed down a sip of coffee. “I don’t plan on sleeping in the kitchen, or any other room for that matter. I’m not going to live there, remember? This is just a flip. Fix it and sell it.”
Ben stiffened beside her. He cleared his throat.
“Right, I forgot. Either way, we’re going to keep the rest of the walls. Please don’t knock down anymore.”
He leaned his head to the side so when Jenna turned to face him, she found herself staring up into his blue eyes flecked with gold. The angle was different this time, though no less arresting. Trying to ignore how handsome Ben Fletcher was, was like trying to forget the colors of a Hawaiian sunset. Impossible.
“And don’t worry—” His voice had dropped to a whisper. “There will be plenty of nails to hammer in.”
“Good.” Sarah’s head drifted closer to Ben’s.
His lips were inching toward hers, so she read his next words as he said them. “Just watch your thumbs.”
The sound of the backdoor opening forced them apart, pushing away from each other so quickly Ben’s coffee sloshed from his mug and left a dark stain on his pant leg. Jenna felt a blush crawl up her cheeks as Sarah emerged, carrying a plate of homemade cookies.
“Who wants a snack?”
Ben’s eyes bulged at the promise of something delicious. “I would love one.” He reached for the plate and retrieved a cookie, then took a large bite. “That’s amazing,” he said, keeping his hand over his mouth so that he could talk around the confection without crumbs falling out.
“That’s nothing,” added Mike, stepping out behind his wife. “You should try her pineapple upside-down cake and apple cobbler.”
“You should open a bakery,” Ben said, helping himself to another cookie.
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