She set her chin in her palm. “Tell me how you got involved in carpentry.”
“When I was eleven, my Uncle Joe had me help him build a garden bench. After that, I worked alongside him each summer.” Hank had loved those hot summer days spent woodworking while listening to classic rock, each year taking on more responsibility and more complex projects. “The last piece we built together was a desk for my aunt. It’s weird to look back now and realize those skills I learned from him ended up supporting my family. And the closeness I had with my uncle softened the blow of losing my dad so young. Life can be funny that way—you never know which little decisions today will make a big difference tomorrow.”
“Funny or scary, depending on your perspective.” Cat leaned forward, apparently rapt. “Do you and your uncle still build things together?”
“No. He moved to Florida eight years ago, but we’re still close.”
“Sounds nice.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. Her graceful manner made even such common gestures appear sophisticated—an unwelcome reminder of how she’d never truly fit in his mundane life. “Can I see your workshop?”
“Sure.” He tossed their paper plates in the trash, hooked the video monitor to his belt, and opened the back door. “Follow me.”
Anticipating her reaction to his private world chased away the sense of calm he typically experienced crossing the lawn.
Although the evening sky still shone with lilac-and-rose-tinted light, he flicked on the overhead lights in the garage. “This is it. It’s not much, but—”
“This is where the magic happens,” she said on a breath. Her eyes scrutinized every detail as she spun on her heel. She meandered around the small studio, touching various tools and wood planks without speaking. Moments later, she asked, “This is who you are, isn’t it? This is what you love, what you want to do with your life.”
“Maybe one day.” He dug the toe of his right shoe into the ground and noticed he was still wearing his work boots. Aw, hell. In all the chaos, he’d forgotten to shower.
“Why wait?” She turned toward him wearing an enthusiastic smile. “Why not start now? Like I mentioned before, I could use my connections to help.”
“You make it sound easy, but it doesn’t work that way.”
“What way does it work?”
“It’s a slow process. A highly efficient builder might max out at around eighteen pieces per year. I can’t afford all the equipment I’d need to work at that pace, and this space is too small.”
“So we rent space, we buy equipment.” Her unconcerned grin reminded him of Jackson, who also had no aversion to risk. Of course, unlike Hank, neither of them supported dependents. “What else?”
He chuckled until he realized she was dead serious. “Cat, what exactly are you proposing?”
She stilled, looking uncharacteristically shy for a minute. “How about a partnership, fifty-fifty? You’re the talent, and I’ll handle the branding and sales.”
“When?” He chuckled. “In between photo shoots?”
She squared her shoulders—friendly rapport retreating behind the façade. Clearly his joke had insulted her. “You know, a lot of companies would pay me for my name and social reach.”
“Probably, but I don’t have a furniture company, so there’s nothing to promote.” When she didn’t appear dissuaded, he pointed toward the house. “I need a steady paycheck as long as my mom’s alive and Jenny’s still in college.”
“You’ve supported your family for so long. It’s remarkable, actually.” She casually crossed her arms and cocked her head to the left. “Don’t you think that, after everything you sacrificed for them, they’d welcome the chance to return the favor?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“No, but nothing’s impossible. Especially not when you have help. Don’t you want the chance to pursue your own dreams?”
“I have a lot of dreams, Cat. Not just this one.” He crossed his arms to show he was equally resolved to his position as she was to hers. “Believe me, the choices I’ve made have given me more than I’ve lost.”
Her dubious expression coupled with silence forced him to defend his remark.
“My family loves and respects me thanks to the ‘sacrifices’ I’ve made. When my mom dies, I’ll be at peace because of the way I’ve cared for her. All of it—everything I’ve done—has proven I’m a man who can be counted on, who doesn’t walk away when things are hard. That means something to me.” He looked around his shop. “I do love building furniture. But even if I had my own business and a brand worth bragging about, it wouldn’t give me those other things. Trust me, I’m okay with my choices.”