What did one wear to a woodworking shop anyway? Probably not a dress. Even if she had no intentions of doing any type of work in said shop, she didn’t want to come across as dainty. As much as a chubby girl could come across as dainty.
She settled on skinny jeans and ballet flats—practical and durable, at least in relative terms. It took seven tops before she settled on a cranberry colored tee with a deep scooped neck. The hint of cleavage balanced the casualness of the jeans, right?
Why was she even worried? It wasn’t a date. And even if Taylor had maybe, sort of been flirting with her at the winery, she could have also just been trying to be nice. Ugh. This was why she needed to get back in the dating pool. Her confidence was tanked on pretty much every level, and feeling clueless rubbed salt in the wound. If flirting with Taylor gave her a boost, she’d take it.
She finished her makeup and swept her hair into a ponytail, happy the result looked casual and fresh instead of trying too hard to be young. She got into Meemaw’s car—not quite ready to call the maroon sedan her own—and punched Taylor’s address into the GPS.
Even if she was tempted to hook up with Taylor, it probably wasn’t a good idea. Taylor was nice and fun to hang out with. Oh, and handy. If they slept together and it didn’t go anywhere, she stood to lose a friend and a skilled pair of hands. But she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to wanting to get in Taylor’s pants.
At the very least, she should own her plan to slut it up so Taylor would know where things stood and make an informed decision. Would Taylor be interested? Julia shook her head. She was getting way ahead of herself.
She pulled into the driveway and double-checked the address to make sure. A gorgeous old farmhouse stood to the right, not huge, but with a deep front porch that spanned the entire front and wrapped around one side. This was Taylor’s house? To the left sat a giant red barn, complete with white trim and a big sliding door open wide. A wooden “Winslow Woodworks” sign hung to the left.
A half dozen chickens scratched around in the grass. Like a postcard for the idyllic rural life of upstate New York. Julia brushed off the ambivalence that stirred in her and got out of the car. A couple of the chickens looked her way, but they seemed otherwise unfazed by her arrival. Since Taylor told her the barn was her workshop, she headed there instead of the house.
She didn’t know exactly what she was expecting, but a clean, cavernous, brightly lit space wasn’t it. Inside the door, at least a dozen Adirondack chairs sat in a neat row. Next to them, rocking chairs and what appeared to be a swing.
“Hello?”
“Coming.” Taylor’s voice came from somewhere deeper in the barn, but there were a pair of doors and Julia couldn’t tell which one to choose. After a few seconds, Taylor appeared through the one to the right. “Hi.”
She wore a pair of faded jeans and a navy T-shirt with work boots and a Yankees cap that made her blue eyes seem a shade darker. Julia told herself her heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight, but it was a lie. “Hey.”
“Thanks for coming.”
Julia shook her head. “Thank you for the invitation. I’ve never visited a workshop before.”
“It’s not terribly glamorous I’m afraid.”
“It’s cool, though. What you do is cool. I want the full tour.” And to spend time with you. And maybe get my hands on you.
Taylor chuckled, as though maybe she’d been able to read Julia’s thoughts. “You might regret that. I’m just warning you.”
She couldn’t imagine regretting anything that involved spending time with Taylor, which was maybe a dangerous thing to admit, even to herself. But at least it seemed like Taylor had no idea where her brain was. “I’ll take my chances.”
Taylor swept her arm to indicate the space around them. “This is the outdoor inventory.”
Right. Because she made indoor stuff, too. “The swing is gorgeous.”
“Thanks.” Taylor angled her head toward the door at the left end of the space. “The rest of the stuff that’s already made is this way.”
Aside from not being artfully arranged, the storage room could have been a showroom. There were tables with matching chairs, shelves, hope chests, and more intricate and beautifully stained rocking chairs. “Taylor, this is incredible.”
“Again, you don’t have to sound so surprised.”
Julia let out a sigh and looked right at Taylor. “I’m not surprised you’re talented. It’s just, the level of talent, and the scale of your production, makes me feel painfully unaccomplished.”
“That’s silly.”
“Is it?” From where she sat, she’d pretty much wasted her twenties and she didn’t have much to show for her thirties so far, either.
“You’re shifting gears and embarking on a whole new phase in your life. That’s huge, not to mention full of potential.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t agree necessarily, but she’d just as soon not analyze her pathetic life with someone who so clearly had theirs sorted out.
Taylor frowned. “You’ll figure it out. Give yourself time. And trust yourself.”
For not knowing her all that well, Taylor seemed to know her really well. And if they kept going like this, she’d end up crying before they finished the tour. Julia nodded and put on her most optimistic smile. “You’re right.”
Taylor seemed to be debating whether to press the matter.
Julia decided not to let her continue down that path. “Come on, we’re not here to talk about me. Show me the rest.”
They peeked into where Taylor stored wood—logs and slabs and boards of all different sizes. “I buy some lumber, but like to mill and plane it myself whenever I can.”
“Mill and plane?” She thought she knew what those words meant, but they didn’t make sense in this context.
“Turn whole logs into boards and other usable pieces.”
“Ah. Sounds fancy. And hard.”
Taylor chuckled. “It’s not either, but it can be time consuming.”
“Do I get to see your tools, too?”
She grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Okay, that was definitely flirting. Taylor led them through yet another door and into the biggest room yet, filled with tools she didn’t recognize, some as big as her. The finished products were impressive, but they had nothing on the workroom. “Wow.”
“You don’t have to say nice things. I’m pretty secure in my equipment.”
Julia snickered at the double entendre. At least she assumed it was a double entendre. “Good to know. Still, this place is impressive.”
“Thank you.” Despite the comment, Taylor beamed. The pride she had in her shop, her work, radiated from her. Julia did not expect to find it sexy, but she did.
“Is it dorky of me to want to know what the different tools and machines are?”
“No, but I should warn you that you may regret asking.”
“I am a sponge.”
Taylor tucked her tongue in her cheek. Despite Julia’s declaration, she knew it didn’t take much for the average person’s eyes to glaze with boredom. She offered the highlights—her planer and the jig saw, the lathe where she turned spindles and the occasional bowl. Julia seemed more interested than most, and not in that polite way so many people had. It made her like Julia even more, not that she was lacking on that front.
“How about, for being such a good sport, I fix you a drink?” It was too early for dinner, but she wanted an excuse for Julia to linger a bit longer.
Julia crossed her arms and cocked one of her hips to the side. “What does that mean?”
“I mean it as a poke to me, not you,” Taylor said quickly, not wanting to give the wrong impression.
Julia’s stance didn’t waver. “I asked. Besides, what you do is really cool. I mean, completely beyond me, but cool.”
“Thanks. I’ve had a lot of practice.” She resisted a face palm. Could she have come up with something less inspired to say?
“I won’t say no to a drink, though.”
At least Julia didn’t think she was too boring to converse with. “How about we head over to the house? I’ve got lots of stuff in the fridge and I think Waylon is sleeping on the porch.”
“Waylon?”
“Oh, my dog. He’s chill, I promise.”
Julia followed her back through the barn and outside. “What a fantastic name for a dog.”
“I can’t take credit. He came with it. He’s a coon hound rescue from Kentucky.”
“That might be the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Easy for you to say. You haven’t heard him snore.”
Julia laughed that incredible laugh as they approached the porch. Waylon, who had been napping, lifted his head and let out a woof of greeting. Taylor glanced at Julia to make sure the size of the sound hadn’t caught her off guard.
She needn’t have worried. Julia had already bent down to Waylon’s level and extended a hand for inspection. He gave it the once-over, then nudged her palm with his snout. Julia petted him gently, then went in with both hands. Waylon pushed his head one way then the other. “He’s officially in love with you. I hope you’re prepared for all the rights and responsibilities that come with that, including drool.”
Instead of answering her, Julia talked at Waylon, lavishing him with praise and assurances that she loved him, too. In danger of doing a little drooling herself, Taylor bounded up the porch steps. “I don’t have lemonade, but I can offer you beer or wine or, don’t judge me, Mountain Dew.”
Julia made a show of wrinkling her nose. “Beer would be great, as long as it’s not too dark.”
“Fat Tire okay? It’s a Belgian amber.”
“Ooh, yes please.”
Taylor headed in to get their drinks, telling herself Julia liking her favorite beer didn’t mean anything. She returned to the porch with a pair of bottles. Julia had made herself at home in one of the rockers and Waylon sprawled contentedly at her feet. She handed Julia one and took the other rocker. “How’s it all going so far?”
Julia smiled ruefully. “Sort of a loaded question, don’t you think?”
“Sorry. I meant it in the most general way possible.”
“It’s okay. I’m mostly teasing.” She reached over and extended her bottle. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” Taylor clinked her bottle to Julia’s and took a sip. She really did love cold beer on a summer afternoon.
“They’re not bad, actually, all things considered,” Julia said after a minute.
“I’m glad.” Taylor wished they were better, but she appreciated that some things, the kind of things Julia was working through, took time.
“I think I’m going to try to do a few things at the house. Painting and maybe replace a faucet or two. Are you really willing to help?”
The idea of spending time with Julia made her pulse quicken, even if it was time spent on projects and not more personal things. “Absolutely.”
“I promise I wouldn’t just stand around. And what I lack in handy skill I make up for in the kitchen. I’d totally make you dinner for your efforts.”
Getting better by the second. “I like the sound of this.”
“I hope it’s as much as I like the sound of giving my house a facelift.”
If Julia only knew. “I think it might.”
They drank in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Waylon, true to form, started to snore. More of a snuffling whistle than a true snore. It always reminded her of Big Bird. When Julia made that exact observation, Taylor decided to take it as a sign.
“Do you want to grab dinner or a drink sometime?” After asking the question, Taylor held her breath.
Julia studied her and Taylor would have paid a hefty sum to know what she was thinking. “On a date?”
Not the answer she was hoping for, but not a total shutdown. Taylor resumed breathing and did a quick calculation. She could play it off, make some comment about wanting it to be as friends. But she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t even try. “It doesn’t have to be, but that would be my preference.”
Julia didn’t answer, and as the seconds ticked by, Taylor began to dread the inevitable letdown. Eventually, Julia folded her arms and said, “Here’s the thing.”
Taylor scratched her temple. “What’s that?”
“The last time I went on a date, I ended up married for the better part of ten years.”
Her first thought was to wonder if that would be so bad, but that was not the answer Julia wanted. “I promise I won’t propose. Or show up with a U-Haul.”
Julia chuckled but Taylor picked up on a slight edge. “I’ve decided to date liberally.”
“Liberally?” Taylor pointed to herself. “I’m very liberal.”
“That’s a relief, but not what I meant.”
She sort of suspected, but didn’t want to take anything for granted. “Please, tell me more.”
“I was the good girl. I was devoted and faithful and gave my whole heart, and you know what it got me?”
Funny how much she wanted to punch a woman she’d seen maybe once or twice more than a decade ago. “She was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool.”
Julia shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m washing my hands of the whole thing. I’m officially slutting it up.”
She must have done a bad job of hiding her surprise because Julia’s eyes narrowed. She fumbled for something—anything—to say. Nothing.
“You’re judging me. I can tell.”
Taylor shook her head vigorously. “Not judging. Definitely not judging.”
“It’s fine. I’m pretty sure everyone else will. That’s kind of the point. Well, not the point but a perk.”
Even if her sensibilities tended toward the old-fashioned, Taylor was not about slut shaming or telling any woman what she could or should do with her body. Still, she couldn’t very well admit she had feelings for Julia. Feelings that went beyond a roll in the hay.
“You should do exactly what you want to do.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie.
“I just think I need to live a little. I missed out.”
It wasn’t a crazy notion. Even if Taylor wasn’t crazy about it. “You deserve that. But I hope you’re doing it because you want to, not because you feel like you should.”
Julia frowned, but it looked more like she was considering Taylor’s assertion than taking issue with it. “Well, sure.”
“Good.”
Julia grinned. “So, does that mean you do or don’t want to go out with me?”
What an impossible question. “I definitely want to grab dinner. I’m not sure I want to be a notch in your bedpost, though. Not because there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just not really my style.”
“So, friends?”
If part of her cringed at being relegated to that category, the rest of her knew she couldn’t stand to be one of Julia’s conquests. Or experiments. Or whatever she decided to call them. “Friends.”
Julia nodded and, after a moment, stuck out her hand like they were closing a deal. “Good. I could use one.”