Once in a Lifetime(27)

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah? Care to share?”

“I’m going to be hosting bingo night. And the knitting club. And the cookie and book exchange. And, I hope, a whole bunch of other stuff. A lot of that includes seniors, and they need the extra space to maneuver with canes and wheelchairs and things. The other day, Mr. Elroy took out an entire book display with his cane and then blamed in on Mr. Wykowski. They nearly came to blows, like a couple of twenty-year-olds, but Lucille stepped in, telling them they couldn’t have any cookies if they didn’t zip it.”

Ben smiled. “Remember the time that you danced at the senior center and put three seniors into cardiac arrest?”

“Near cardiac arrest,” she said, correcting him. “And it was a beauty pageant. I wasn’t dancing. I was baton twirling for the talent competition.”

He fought a smile and lost. “Whatever you say, Sunshine.” He stepped into her space then, all the more amused when she went still, like Bambi in the headlights, unsure of whether to move clear, or stand firm.

She stood firm.

He pushed the squares around a bit. “How about this? You get an extra wall, which we’d make a half wall, as you wanted. That divides up the space so you can have two different groups at the same time and yet still gives you an open feel. Also, if you make the wall a shelving unit, you acquire additional product display or storage space.”

She stared down at the squares for a long moment, saying nothing.

“Or not,” he said with a shrug. “Your space.”

“No, it’s…good. You’re good.”

“Sometimes.”

Her gaze jerked to his, and for a moment, hunger and yearning was heavy in the air between them.

Then she rolled her eyes. “And so modest, too.”

He smiled, then pulled back the edge of the carpet, revealing what he’d discovered last night—hardwood floors beneath.

“Oh, my God,” she said, and dropped to her knees, bending low to see the wood more closely. “Score!”

He eyed the way her dress pulled tight over her perfect ass and said, “Definitely.” He tore his gaze off her. “I’ll pull up the carpet for you tonight if you’d like.”

“I’d like.” She stood up, dusted her hands off, and pulled out a stack of paint samples. “I was thinking this one for the walls, and this one as an accent color.”

He spread out the samples and nudged two colors over the top of her choices.

She stared down at them. “Lighter?”

“Yes. It’ll make your space appear bigger.”

“Warmer, too,” she noted.

“You wanted comfy,” he reminded her. “Your word, not mine.”

She stared at his colors for a long moment. “You going to help me paint?”

“I can do it myself,” he said, thinking a little space between them might be warranted.

“I want to be involved.”

Perfect. “Painting’s messy,” he said.

“I’m good at painting.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged. If she was willing to get burned, why the hell wasn’t he?

“Besides,” she said. “I don’t tend to get messy.”

He smiled, a real one. “Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, and was rewarded by her blush.







The next night, Ben entered the bookstore after closing. He hadn’t necessarily set out to avoid Aubrey.

Okay, he’d totally set out to avoid her.

As a result, he’d managed to go several hours today without thinking about her at all. Which was completely negated by the fact that she’d been starring in his dreams…

Yesterday, he’d pulled up the carpets in the bookstore. He’d swept afterward, but the hardwood had still needed some TLC. But as he looked the place over now, he realized Aubrey had scrubbed the hell out of the floors, getting up years of grime and scuffs. He didn’t know what he’d expected from her, or why he’d assumed she’d have him do as much of the dirty work as possible, but she was working her ass off, and he found that…appealing. Wildly so.

“My aunt loved this place,” she said from behind him. She was in sweats, eyes sleepy, as if maybe he’d woken her up. “I’d come here after school, and she’d have a snack waiting,” she said. “She was always so busy, because she did all the work herself, but she made time for me. No matter what her day looked like. She’d put me in that big, soft chair”—she pointed to a huge overstuffed chair in the corner—“and then she’d bring me a stack of books to read, and for a little while, I’d escape.”

“Escape what?” he asked.

She shrugged as if embarrassed and then looked out at the store. “I want to bring that magic to others.”

He had no idea why his gut tightened, or why in that moment he wanted to give her whatever she needed. “We can do that,” he said.

She turned to him. “We?”

“Your uncle hired me,” he reminded her. “I don’t leave a job just because the customer drives me insane.”

She gave a little smile. “But why is this your job in the first place? Why are you even back in Lucky Harbor?”