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Currant Creek Valley(68)

By:Raeanne Thayne


Color seeped along her cheekbones. “It hardly seems commensurate. I’m a little embarrassed, if you want the truth. I’ll be enjoying the chair you made me for years to come while you’ll probably polish off the last meal in a few weeks.”

“You didn’t have to do anything like this, Alexandra. I gave you that chair because I wanted to. I didn’t expect anything in return.”

That seemed to fluster her. “Yes, well, I appreciate it. More than I can say. Um, we should probably put these in the freezer as soon as possible. I can’t believe I fell asleep and left them sitting out this long. I should have just gone back to my house and put them back in the freezer while I watched for you from the window.”

“You looked as if you needed the nap.”

“It’s been a crazy few days. The restaurant is closed on Tuesdays but I spent most of today cooking for you and some other friends.”

He hoped she still considered him a friend, despite everything else that simmered between them. “Come on inside. Let’s see if I can find room in the freezer.”

He unlocked the door and led the way inside, aware as he did that the house was cluttered with construction mess, especially the living room. The family room in the back was moderately livable but he had been using this room to store all the supplies and paint cans. Sawhorses, trouble lights and ladders cluttered the floor.

She apparently didn’t notice. “Wow, look at all the progress you’ve made!”

“All I can see is how much I still have to do.”

“No, it’s beautiful. Those crown moldings are gorgeous! I never would have guessed they were hiding beneath all those layers of paint.”

“Amazing what a little elbow grease can do. Let me put these things away and then I’ll take you on the grand tour.”

In the kitchen, she exclaimed again over the new cabinetry he had installed and the pendant lights over the island that replaced the old fluorescent fixture.

“Wow! I can’t believe how far the house has come in only a few weeks. Do you ever sleep?”

“When I can.”

The few hours he did catch had been more than a little restless lately, occupied with a certain lovely chef, but he decided telling her that particular detail would only make him sound pathetic.

“Well, it’s amazing.”

He lifted a shoulder. “You like cooking things, I like this. Taking something rough and unfinished, turning it into a warm, comfortable space. Finish carpentry is the very best part of construction work, in my opinion. The bare-bones work has its place, but I get to see immediate results.”

“I am really impressed, Sam. I guess I shouldn’t be. I’ve spent plenty of time in the kitchen you built. and the chair you—and Ethan—made me has become the most comfortable spot in my house or outside it.”

“Come on. Let me give you the tour.”

He showed her Ethan’s room, close to completion, the new tile work in the main bathroom, the shower he was completely rebuilding in the master bathroom.

“Wonderful,” she said when they circled back to the kitchen. “You’re doing a fantastic job. I’m sure you and Ethan will be very comfortable here.”

“I sensed that from the first moment I looked at the house. It felt right. I can’t explain it. I only know this is where we need to be.”

“Just like you knew Hope’s Crossing was a good place to call home after one afternoon at the pizza parlor.”

“I know you think I’m ridiculous.”

“No. I get it.” Her voice was soft. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut. You’re a good father. Ethan is lucky to have you.”

Her words were warm but her expression was resigned, almost sad, for reasons he didn’t understand.

“I’d better let you get back to your evening. All the instructions should be on the food. I know from experience they’re all freezer friendly and should warm up well. And when you run out, let me know and I can drop off more.”

“Keep a ready supply of meals-on-wheels, do you?”

“Something like that. Good night.”

She reached for the door but he made a countermove and blocked her way. “Can I ask you something?”

She stood only a few feet from him, and her clean, sweet scent of vanilla and Alexandra reached right in and grabbed his gut.

“What?” she asked, her voice and her stance wary.

“What am I doing wrong?”

She shifted and he saw nerves flicker in her green eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you do. We’ve got this heat between us. I know you feel it. But you seem determined to treat me like just another of your many casual friends. Like you would Brodie Thorne or Mr. Phillips next door.”