Until Winter Breaks Page 4

  “You owe me,” he said, rankling her. “I’m fixing your roof, and your end of the bargain was to give me a ride.” He crossed his arms and smiled smugly. “And as I recall, you booted me to the side of the road after only a few blocks.”

  “That’s because you’re—”

  “Mills, you kicked him out of your car?” Sadie appeared at Millie’s side.

  “She did.” Jared looked solemn, but his eyes broadcasted that teasing sparkle. “I had to walk two miles to fix her roof.”

  “I bought you a sandwich.” Millie pointed next door. “Did you even get it?”

  “Whatever you’re cooking tonight smells delicious,” Jared said, taking the tiniest step toward her, like he might enter her house and crash her girls-only party. “I am pretty hungry after all that yard work.”

  “No,” Millie ground out through clenched teeth.

  “So we’ll go tomorrow night,” he said, grinning.

  “No,” she said again. “I am not getting on that deathtrap of a vehicle.”

  “Fine.” Jared reached out and tucked that stray lock. She swatted his hand away, eliciting a delightful chuckle from deep in his chest. “You pick me up. I like that even better.” He didn’t wait for her to confirm before walking to Taylor’s truck and climbing in the passenger seat.

  Millie watched him go, transfixed by his long stride and wondering what he did besides roofing to keep his muscles so tight.

  “Millie has a date,” Sadie said in a sing-songy voice, pulling Millie back to the present. Diana had arrived, stepped past Millie with a questioning look, and took her bread into the kitchen. Millie followed her friends on numb limbs.

  “A date?” Diana asked. “With Mister Tall and Dreamy Neighbor Next Door?” She unwrapped the leftover baked goods with a knowing smile on her face. “That didn’t take long.”

  “It’s not a date,” she finally said. “We’re just going to pick up some spray for the trees in my yard. Apparently they’re diseased.” She waved her hand as if swatting away an annoying gnat. “I’ll cancel tomorrow. Make up a new dress order or something.”

  “Why?” Diana shrieked. “I’d give my left kidney for a man like that to ask me out.”

  “He didn’t ask me out,” Millie said, shaking her head. “And he’s trouble.”

  “And everyone in Redwood Bay knows you could use some of that.” Sadie hooked her arm through Millie’s and directed her to the liquor waiting on the kitchen counter. “Now let’s see how you feel about the date after you have a mojito or two.”

  Chapter Four

  Jared whistled while he and Taylor loaded up the trailer with more lumber, nails, and shingles. Tar paper, waterproofing liner, and tree pesticide followed. He’d learned to whistle while he worked from Liam, the construction boss in Denver who’d taken a chance on him. He reminded himself that Liam’s birthday was coming up at the beginning of March. After Jared lost his job, and subsequently his whole world, the only person he’d told he was going back to Redwood Bay was Liam.

  Liam had advised him to keep his head on straight and keep whistling. And with an appointment with Millie on the horizon, Jared definitely had a reason for both.

  After he and Taylor had unloaded the supplies at Millie’s shop, Jared shook hands with the hardware store owner. “Thanks, man. Think you can give me a ride home?” He eyed the fifty-pound bag of pesticide. He could carry it if he had to.

  “I’ll take him.”

  Jared turned to find Tripp standing at the edge of the parking lot. His mouth automatically turned down into a frown. He’d ignored his cousin’s calls for a reason.

  “You up for a bite to eat?” Tripp asked as Taylor got in his truck and pulled away.

  “Sure,” Jared said, concealing the apprehension coiling inside him. “Lucy’s?”

  “Nowhere better.”

  Though it was only a few blocks from the shop, Jared joined Tripp in his truck for the short drive.

  “Called you last night.” Tripp killed the ignition but didn’t get out of the cab.

  “Yeah,” Jared said, meeting his cousin’s eye. “Not interested in seeing the new and improved Newton’s Nautical Construction. Sorry.” And he was.

  Tripp nodded, his gaze deadly serious. “I get that. Totally. Just wanted to welcome you back to town. See if you wanted to come over for a fish fry or something.” He ran his hand through his hair as if he was the nervous one. “Don’t get together with my family a lot, but I’d like to change that.”

  Jared wanted to change that too. With his dad gone, and his mother living two hours away, maybe Redwood Bay did hold opportunities for him to fit into a family he actually wanted.

  “Sunday?” he asked. “Sophie has a nice yard.”

  “Polly wants to do it at her place.” Tripp opened his door and Jared followed him into the diner.

  “Polly’s is fine,” Jared said. “I’ll bring something from the bakery.”

  Tripp grinned at him and then at Lucy, who stood at the hostess station. She appraised Jared from the top of his head to the soles of his work boots. “Jared Newton,” she finally said. “If I wasn’t attached to someone, I’d snatch you up.” She drew him into warm hug, and Jared held on tightly, enjoying the physical intimacy from someone, even if it was just friendly. His insides twisted when he realized how lonely he was. He hadn’t felt this alone since he’d packed a duffle bag and hit the road as a teenager.

  “Hey, Luce.” Jared cleared his throat and stepped back. “This place is doin’ great.” He glanced around at the freshly painted walls, hardwood laminate, and tasteful décor. “Maybe you need someone to bus tables?”

  She scoffed as she picked up two menus and headed for a booth. “Like I need a lawyer here wiping tables.”

  “You have a marketing executive flipping burgers,” Tripp said as he slid into the booth. “Nobody hears Blaine complaining.” He took his menu and looked at Jared. “Blaine is Lucy’s boyfriend. Or have you two gotten engaged yet?”

  “Mind your own business, Tripp.” Lucy sounded like she could curdle milk, and Jared laughed.

  “So a lawyer would fit right into your staff.”

  She peered at him. “You don’t want to work at my diner.”

  “Sure I do,” he said, feeling the weight of Tripp’s eyes on him. “Look, I need a job. Doesn’t have to be much, at least right now. I just need something to do all day.”

  Tripp’s raised eyebrows mimicked Lucy’s. “I heard you were keeping busy at the dress shop,” he said.

  An invisible punch knocked the air from his lungs. “Taylor assigned me to fix the roof. That’s all.”

  Tripp and Lucy exchanged a knowing glance. “Sure,” Tripp said. “That’s why I found you at the shop tonight, after hours. I get it. Good Samaritan and all that.”

  “Exactly,” Jared said, keeping his and Millie’s upcoming party of two to himself. He’d need to find somewhere else to take her for dinner. Like another state.

  He refocused his attention on Lucy. “But seriously. Either of you hear of any jobs, will you let me know? Once that roof is fixed, I’m gonna go stir crazy.”

  They both agreed, and relief floated through Jared. Maybe he could find his footing in Redwood Bay after all.

  * * *

  The next morning, Jared sat on Millie’s front steps waiting for her to emerge from her house. He hadn’t had time to spray her trees the night before since his meal with Tripp had gone past bedtime. A sense of contentment washed over him at the thought. He’d believed he’d never feel anything but hatred and fear in Redwood Bay, especially around Tripp. But the conversation had been easy, and they had fifteen years of life to catch up on.

  “Am I giving you a ride every day?” Millie’s voice stirred Jared from his thoughts.

  He stood and took in her curvy figure. She’d arranged her hair into a messy bun on the crown of her head, and she wore a skirt that drifted below her knees. She looked good enough to hold for a long while, and Jared had to restrain him
self from reaching for her. Just because he was lonely didn’t mean he could manhandle her.

  From the look on her face, he knew she was lonely too. He wondered if he broadcasted it from his eyes as loudly as she did.

  “Good morning,” he said, surprised at how softly his voice came out. “You look fantastic.”

  She rolled her eyes. “We’re not going out ‘til tonight, Mister. You can save your compliments until then.” She headed down the steps to her car. She got in and as Jared settled into her passenger seat and buckled his belt, he was very aware of her eyes on him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Thank you.”

  Something in the air shifted. “For?”

  “The compliment.” She glanced at her skirt. “I made this skirt myself.”

  “It’s perfect,” he said, wishing it showed just a bit more leg. Still, he liked the allure of the mystery, and the strong pull towards Millie intensified. “You know, I thought you’d make up an excuse and cancel on me for tonight.”

  She put the car in reverse. “I almost did.”

  His chest collapsed painfully. “What changed your mind?”

  “Sadie and Diana.”

  Jared chuckled. “Got you drunk, right?”

  “No,” she defended, sliding him a look out of her creamed-coffee eyes. He wanted to drink them in, every emotion, every thought, every heartache. His feelings surprised him, and he looked away. He was just lonely. Coming off the messy break-up of a long relationship. He didn’t know how to live without having someone so easily accessible who cared about him. He hadn’t had to for years. Still, he felt something for Millie that went beyond her proximity.

  “Well, I guess I better plan the renovation,” he said. “Now that I know you’re not going to cancel.”

  “I can give you some ideas for where to go in town.”

  “No need,” he said as she pulled in front of her shop. “We’re not staying in town, Mills.” He gave her a devilish smile as he got out of the car. She didn’t immediately join him on the sidewalk, and he could feel her gaze on him as he entered her shop, a whistle escaping his pursed lips.

  * * *

  Millie wasn’t sure she could work with Jared, knowing they’d be seeing each other again that night. It seemed like too much time together too soon. Especially because she wasn’t even sure if she liked him or not. They had electric chemistry, sure, but she’d had the same thing with Brady and she certainly didn’t want a repeat of that relationship.

  Intellectually, she knew Jared wasn’t Brady. He didn’t own gliders, ATVs, climbing shoes, or an array of helmets. Just because he rode a motorcycle didn’t make him an adrenaline junkie. In fact, most of what she’d seen pointed in the opposite direction of daredevil, despite the black leather that had draped him upon his arrival.

  Pinging from her hood caught her attention. She got out of the car to find Jared perched on the roof, a grin on his face. “You comin’ in, or what?”

  “Yes,” she said, heading for the entrance. She shouldn’t be embarrassed that she needed a few minutes to think things through. If he’d had a spouse die he’d need the extra time too. As she thought it, she realized that he could have any number of tragedies in his past, including the one that had driven him from Redwood Bay before he’d graduated from high school.

  Millie set to work in her sewing room, unable to face the remaining smudges and piles of now-dried mud. It would take a few days of strong elbow grease to get the shop clean and ready to open. She wasn’t losing a lot of business right now, but sewing over cleaning made no sense, at least for her bottom line. For her psyche, though, sewing became a soothing balm.

  By lunch, she had the top half of a child’s baptism dress done. Her shoulders ached in the way that told her she’d done amazing work, and as she rolled them out, she realized she hadn’t heard any hammering for several minutes.

  Excitement needled through her before she could tell it not to, before she could even imagine what it meant that Jared wasn’t working on the roof anymore. She tidied up the sewing room, finally bagging all the ruined dresses and hanging them on a rack in the back. She took a few minutes to organize her fabric, her threads, her notions. She was ready to go home for the day, as she needed several hours to mentally prepare for her outing tonight.

  “I need to cancel,” she murmured at the same time something crashed in the showroom. A man swore as she hurried into the hall and met a bright shaft of light coming through the doorway.

  Jared bent over and picked up the door—which he’d ripped from the hinges. He leaned the door against the still-boarded windows. “I’ll fix that.” He looked at her sheepishly before stooping to retrieve the bags he’d abandoned on the floor. “I brought lunch.”

  He strode toward her with those long, jean-clad legs as she distracted herself by setting up the two stools so they could eat at the counter together.

  “Sorry about the door.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “But I will need to move the dresses into the back for safekeeping.” She glanced around the showroom, the amount of work that needed to be done overwhelming her in only a few seconds.

  “I’ll fix it right after we eat,” he said. “Then you won’t have to move them.” He followed her sweeping assessment of the room. “Though this place….” He trailed off when he met her eyes.

  “This place what?” she asked, reaching into the lunch bag and pulling out a bag of French fries. She made a face and set them in front of Jared.

  “Nothing.” He swatted her hands away from the bag. “I got you a chicken Caesar salad.”

  Millie accepted the fork he handed her, wondering how Jared knew she liked a salad more than almost anything. “Did Lucy help you pick out my lunch?”

  “You wound me, sweetheart.” He gave her a playful smirk. “You think I can’t read a woman who loves salad?” He let his gaze drip down her body, seeming to stall on every swell and curve. Millie tried not to squirm. She tried to paint on her most disapproving face for when his eyes finally traveled back to hers.

  By the time they did, though, she felt flushed and chilled all at the same time. She folded her arms across the swells he seemed to linger on the longest. “She helped, didn’t she?”

  “Maybe.” He popped a fry into his mouth.

  She removed the lid from her salad. “Tell me what you were going to say about my shop.”

  “You’re so demanding.” He took out a sandwich, unwrapped it, and bit into his Rueben.

  “I am not.”

  He swallowed, a feat what with his lips curved into such a delicious smile. Her appetite for salad went out the window, focusing instead on the delectable man in front of her.

  “Do you hear yourself?” he asked. “Tell me everything I want to know.” He mimicked her, and he did make her sound ultra-harsh.

  “Look—”

  He touched her lips again, his finger just as rough and just as heat producing as it had been the first time he’d silenced her. “I was gonna say that your shop looks like it could use a touch-up.” He spoke softly, the same way he had in the car that morning, his voice oozing like melted marshmallows. Oh, how she wanted a taste of him.

  His fingers slipped across her face and cupped the back of her neck. “I could help you clean up from the storm, paint the walls, put in new baseboards, make sure the wiring is done right.” He removed his hands from her and leaned away, a glint in his eye said that he knew how strongly he affected her.

  She took a few seconds to regain the ability to breathe. “My shop is—” She stalled on the word fine as her attention dropped to the outlet behind the counter. The cover had cracked several months ago, and she’d never replaced it.

  “Your shop is fantastic,” he said. “It just needs a few touch-ups.” He took a swig of his soda. “I don’t have a job, and there’s no way I can sit around my sister’s house all day. I could help spruce it up.” He shrugged. “If you want.”

  She did want. His help—and him. She
forked a bite of salad into her mouth to give herself time to think. How could she accept without seeming too interested? Or too cold? Being neutral had never been her strong suit.

  Jared looked around her shop while she considered his offer, and she disliked his roaming eyes. Surely they saw the imperfections in the paint, the drooping molding in the corner, the dusty light fixtures she never got around to cleaning.

  “I can provide references,” he finally said, a light chuckle accompanying his words. “So you know I’m not an axe murderer or anything.”

  “I don’t think you’re an axe murderer.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t think you’re half-bad either, sweetheart.” He finished off his sandwich. “But this shouldn’t be that hard.” Frustration flickered across his face. “It’s just painting. It’s not a judgment on you.”

  “That’s not what—”

  “Yes, it is.” He reached out and trailed his fingers down the side of her face. “You wear everything in your eyes, sweetheart.” He grinned as if he liked it and headed for the front door. “I’ll go get the hinges. I need to fix this door, and you can let me know whether or not you want my help when I get back.”

  He left, and Millie immediately missed him. She both wanted him to help her remodel her shop and didn’t want him so close everyday. Her warring feelings left her stomach tight and her salad mostly uneaten.

  He returned a half hour later, and Millie was ready. “Why does a lawyer want to be my handyman?” She stayed behind the counter while he filled in the holes left by the old hinges.

  “Why not?” he responded without looking at her. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

  Millie sighed, her hesitation growing. She wanted to trust him, but she couldn’t believe he wanted to work in her shop. “Jared.”

  The use of his name drew his attention from the door. He straightened and crossed the showroom to lean against the counter opposite her. “Millie.”