Okay, maybe he could’ve phrased that last part differently. There were all kinds of things he wanted to do when it came to Bridey Roke. Not one of them had anything to do with shelving. While waiting for her to make up her mind, he stared at the far wall and tried to act as if a refusal wouldn’t matter. From the way she was biting her lower lip, she was either seriously considering his offer or trying to think of a gentle way to say no.
“Did you hear me also say that I couldn’t afford to pay much for the work?”
Okay, so it wasn’t him giving her second thoughts. “Not a problem. Pay for materials. That’s enough.”
She was already shaking her head. “I couldn’t let you do that, Seth. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
Her eyes zeroed in on the hole in the knee of his jeans, and he bet she hadn’t missed the frayed collar and cuffs on his shirt. She’d never believe he didn’t need the money, but these days he dressed for comfort, not to impress. Although for Bridey, he might make an exception.
“Minimum wage and materials, then. I’m between assignments, not unemployed. Doing this will help fill the time until I go back to work after the first of the year.”
Hopefully this long dry spell would have played itself out by then. He had promised to deliver some new pieces to the gallery by late spring. One way or another, he needed to rediscover the joy in his art that he had lost.
Bridey didn’t look convinced, but finally she nodded. “Let me show you what I’m talking about. You may not be interested after you see what a mess it is back there.”
“Let me get a couple of things from my truck, and then you can show me.”
He took off for the door before she could change her mind. Outside, he gave in to the big grin he’d been fighting to hold back. Things were looking up. This development meant more time in Bridey’s company and something more constructive to do than moping around his shop waiting for a new project idea to hit.
Shelving might be a far cry from his usual work, but at least he’d be creating something from wood again. And had he mentioned spending more time with Bridey?
• • •
Late Saturday afternoon, Seth walked into the coffee shop clutching the plans he’d drawn up for Bridey’s kitchen. After staying up most of the night to finish them, he hoped he’d come close to what Bridey had envisioned. If she approved the designs, he planned to tear out the old cabinets immediately and start rebuilding on Monday. Because Bridey couldn’t afford to shut down the coffee shop for the number of days it would take him to do all the work at once, he’d have to work on one section at a time. He didn’t mind, since that would stretch out the time he got to spend in her company in the cozy, inviting bakery.
Bridey finished packing up an order for another customer before turning her attention to him. “Seth, are you sure you don’t have something better to do with your Saturday evening than ripping out my old cabinets?”
“I promise. I brought the plans for you to look at.”
He flexed his grip on his toolbox. It had been a long time since he’d been this nervous about presenting a client with a hand-drawn sketch of a project.
Bridey studied the cardboard tube he’d held up. “Fiona, can you handle the counter alone for a little while? I have some business to discuss with Mr. Kyser.”
Turning back to Seth, she smiled. “Let me fix you a coffee and grab you a snack. Then we can go over the details.”
He waited out of the way of the other customers while Bridey fixed his drink and then followed her into the small office in the back of the shop. After motioning him to have a seat in the chair wedged into the corner, she sat down at her minuscule desk.
When they were both settled, he traded her the cardboard tube with the plans for the coffee and muffin she’d brought in for him. “I can make changes if things aren’t exactly what you want.”
She was already unrolling the stack of papers. He’d drawn a separate sketch for each of the different areas that she wanted to have done. Her eyes flared wide as she studied the top page.
“Wow, Seth! Are you an architect or draftsman? I was expecting a rough sketch on notebook paper, not something so professional looking.”
“Not an architect. Had some training, though, and I have a lot of experience working with wood.”
As she pored over each page in turn, her expression was difficult to interpret, but that didn’t keep him from taking advantage of the chance to study her. Today she wore her dark brown hair in a messy knot high up on the back of her head, held there with what looked like a pair of chopsticks. His hands itched to tug them out and watch the dark strands tumble free. Then he’d—
The squeak of Bridey’s chair when she leaned back to look at him cut off that line of thought.
“I’ve got to say, Seth, these are amazing. You have quite the eye for detail, and there’s not an inch of wasted space in the designs. Seriously, it’s as if you read my mind. I have only one concern. Are you sure you can do this for the money we discussed?”
“Yes, no problem. The materials aren’t expensive, and I own all the tools needed to do the work. I’ll get started now, if you like what you see.”
“I definitely like what I see.”
A sudden influx of heat in her gray eyes seemed to accompany her words, along with a slight flush to her skin. A rush of desire hit him, but he was never very good at flirting, although it hadn’t really bothered him before now.
He settled for giving her his best smile. With Bridey, he was content to take it slow and see where things between them led. “I’ll get started, then.”
• • •
Bridey followed Seth into the narrow confines of the storage room. He immediately peeled off his flannel shirt, probably because it was already warm in the small room. Ordinarily, she would have said there was plenty of space in there for two people, but right now it seemed pretty darned crowded. Seth had his back to her as he studied the old cabinets he was going to tear out. He could handle that part by himself, but she wanted to help move her supplies so she’d know where everything ended up.
At the moment, though, she was having trouble concentrating on anything but the way the thermal shirt clung to Seth’s body, showing off an impressive set of lean muscles as he easily picked up the first fifty-pound bag of flour and carried it out of the room. On the way by, he gave her an odd look.
Snap out of it! You’re too old to be caught gawking at a nice set of shoulders!
Yeah, she argued with her inner self, but you’ve got to admit those are some damn fine shoulders.
She grabbed a big bag of sugar and carried it out herself, hoping Seth would think the bright pink flush in her cheeks was due to exertion, not embarrassment. At least he didn’t say anything, but then, he always was quiet. Although it didn’t mean he didn’t communicate a lot with a simple look. Right now there was a suspicious twinkle in his dark green eyes, but there wasn’t much she could do other than soldier on.
While he carried out the last few supplies, she arranged things so that she’d still be able to work in the kitchen despite the temporary chaos. While she gathered up the recipes she’d need in the morning, she checked to see what else needed to be done. Once again her wayward eyes found something better to look at as Seth strapped on a tool belt that rode low over his lean hips.
When he bent down to pick up his hammer, the papers she’d been clutching fluttered to the floor, scattering everywhere. Sheesh, what in the world was wrong with her? She knelt to pick them up, hoping Seth hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately, one had fallen between two counters just out of her reach. A pair of her longest tongs would do the trick, but before she could grab them, Seth was there reaching for the paper.
His callused fingers brushed across hers when he handed her the recipe. “Here you go.”
She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Um, I’ll be in my office, you know, that is if you want me, um, for anything at all.”
“Nice to know.”
As he spoke, the fine lines around his eyes crinkled just enough to let her know that he found something amusing in what she’d just said. She replayed her words in her mind on her way to her office. Good grief. Had she really said “for anything at all”? On one level, the words were perfectly innocent. but if he suspected that she found him attractive—and she did—then he could have interpreted her statement as a come-on.
Figuring she’d only dig herself a deeper hole by trying to clarify what she’d actually meant, she retreated to her office. But as she closed the door, she was pretty sure she heard a deep chuckle coming from inside the storeroom.
• • •
Seth tossed the last of the debris into the Dumpster out behind the shop. Once he finished sweeping the floor in the storeroom, he’d be out of excuses to hang around any longer. Besides, he didn’t want to risk making Bridey uncomfortable by lurking around now that the shop was closed.
She’d been pretty skittish right before she’d taken refuge in her office, not that he blamed her. Other than talking to him a few times when he came in for coffee, she didn’t know anything about him. A woman had every reason to be concerned about being alone with a virtual stranger.
“Wow, you’ve made amazing progress, Seth!”
He jumped, sending his swept pile of dirt flying in all directions. How had she managed to sneak up on him like that? He started cleaning it up again. “Yeah, the demolition is done. Monday, I’ll start putting stuff back in.”
Bridey frowned. “About that. How early would you be able to start? I’m worried about all the noise bothering my customers. I probably should’ve thought of that sooner.”
“How early are you here?”
“I come in at four thirty, but the shop doesn’t open until seven. I close at six in the evening.”
“I’ll come early Monday and leave when the shop opens, if that’s okay. You sure put in a long day, though.”
“That’s the price I pay for being my own boss. I only recently hired Fiona. Once she’s fully trained, she’ll take over closing for me at least a couple of days a week.”
He understood the strain of being the only one on the payroll all too well. “Good. You don’t want to burn out.”
Bridey shot him an odd look as if he’d revealed something important. “True. And with that in mind, it’s time for both of us to get out of here. We’ve both put in enough hours on a Saturday night.”
Once Seth finished sweeping, he packed up his tools. Bridey was waiting for him by the door. “Thank you again for doing this, Seth, and for working around my schedule.”
“Glad to do it.” He smiled. “I’m new to Snowberry Creek, but there’s a lot I like about the town. It’s warm and friendly, especially your shop.”
His remark clearly pleased her. “I’m glad you feel that way. I wanted to create a place where people felt welcome to linger over a cup of coffee and their favorite pastry.”
“Well, you’ve definitely succeeded.”
They walked out into the brisk air together. Seth had parked close by, so they came to a parting of ways all too soon.
“See you on Monday, Seth.”
As she walked away, he put his toolbox into the back of his van and tossed his tool belt in beside it. He slammed the door and gave in to the temptation to watch Bridey a little longer. A flashing light down the street caught his eye and gave him what might be an excellent idea.
Hoping he wasn’t making a major mistake, he loped after Bridey. She heard him coming and stopped, her expression curious but not worried.
“Did you forget something in the shop?”
He shook his head and pointed across the street. “My fridge is pretty empty, so I thought I’d grab dinner across the street. I hate to eat alone.”
Okay, that was a lie. He’d rather eat alone than spend time trying to carry on conversation with most people. Bridey was an exception to that rule.
She looked across at the Creek Café. “You know, that sounds good to me, too. I think tonight’s special is Frannie’s pot roast, which beats the heck out of leftover soup.”
He did a mental victory dance but kept his response a simple. “Good.”
As they cut across the street to the Creek Café, Bridey looped her hand through Seth’s arm. The small contact carried quite a wallop, sending a jolt of hungry awareness rattling around inside his chest. If she were aware of the effect her touch had on him, she gave no sign of it.
Inside the café, she let go, but he didn’t blame her. These people were her friends and customers. Seeing the two of them together could cause rumors to fly across town, especially if they acted like a couple instead of two friends grabbing a quick meal together.
Luck was with them. The busboy was just clearing a booth in the back corner. “There’s a spot.”
Bridey followed in his wake as he wound his way through the crowded diner. As he did, it occurred to him that a booth might not have been the best choice. Should he sit across from her? Yeah, he probably should. What he really wanted to do was slide in right next to her, but he didn’t want to crowd her.
Damn, why was this stuff never easy for him?
They’d almost reached their destination when someone called Bridey’s name. Seth would have preferred to ignore the summons, but Bridey caught his hand in hers and tugged him over toward another booth. He recognized the woman from the other day in the coffee shop. Bridey performed the necessary introductions.
“Seth, this is my friend Callie Redding and her fiancé, Nick Jenkins, most recently of the U.S. Army.” She paused to smile at the couple before adding, “And this is my friend Seth Kyser. Looks like we’re not the only ones who decided to let Frannie do the cooking tonight.”
Seth nodded at Callie and shook Nick’s hand. “Nice to meet both of you.”
The other man turned his attention to Bridey. “Callie mentioned you wanted me to stop by your shop. Something about shelving you need done. Would Monday work?”
Bridey grimaced. “Sorry, Nick. I should have called Callie before now. Seth offered to build them for me.”
Nick looked relieved. “No need to apologize. I’m glad you found someone so quickly.”
On the other hand, Callie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why don’t the two of you join us, and you can tell us all about what you have in mind, Seth. For Bridey’s shop, that is.”
Although clearly that wasn’t what she meant at all. The last thing Seth wanted was to be grilled by one of Bridey’s friends on their first not-quite-a-date. Thankfully, Bridey headed her friend off at the pass.
“We don’t want to intrude. Besides, Seth and I will be talking business, which I’m sure you’d find boring.”
That might have been true for Nick, but it was apparent that Bridey’s refusal only heightened her friend’s curiosity. “If you’re sure. Maybe I’ll give you a call tomorrow so we can catch up on things.”
“Sounds good. See you two later.”
Bridey held his hand firmly as they walked over to the booth they’d been aiming for. She took the seat that faced away from her friends while he took the opposite side.
Should he be concerned that Bridey had refused her friend’s invitation? As much as he’d like to think it was because she wanted to have him to herself, it was more likely that she wanted to maintain the image that this was strictly a business meeting.
She answered his unspoken question. “Callie is one of my best friends and I really like Nick, but it’s been a long day. I don’t have the energy to hold up my end of a four-way conversation.”
Her eyes slid to the side briefly before once again looking directly at him. “I’d rather spend the time with just you. I hope that’s okay.”
It was well beyond just okay. “I’m not a big one for talking.”
She smiled at his comment, looking a bit shy. “I’ve noticed, but I like that about you. It’s soothing. Most people don’t appreciate the value of silence.”
“I like being with you, too.”
“That’s good, Seth, considering how much you’ll be doing around my shop for the foreseeable future.”
Before he could figure out what to say to that, she turned her attention to the menu, studying it as if she’d never seen it before. He gave up and scanned his as well.
When the waitress arrived to take their orders, Bridey handed back the menu. “I’ll have the pot roast and iced tea with my dinner. Seth, have you decided?”
“The same.”
As the waitress walked away, he had a small bout of cold feet. What if Bridey chose this moment to grill him about his past? He didn’t want to lie to her, but he wasn’t yet ready to fill her in on all the details about his long dry spell. It was easy to see that she was working herself up to asking him something. He braced himself and waited.
“So, tell me, Seth. Why nutmeg instead of cloves?”
He laughed. “B-because my grandmother was famous in our family for her plum tarts. No one else could duplicate her secret recipe, although they tried. All I know for sure was that she preferred nutmeg to cinnamon, and something gave her tarts a little extra bite.”
Somehow he thought Bridey would understand his grandmother’s stance. He was right.
“I get that. I used to be the pastry chef in an upscale restaurant down in California. Other places were always trying to rip off my recipes.”
She looked pretty fierce there for a second, but then her expression softened, saddened. “There was a time I thought about publishing my own cookbook. That way people would at least pay for the privilege of using my creations.”
“You should still do that.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” She sighed and toyed with her silverware. “I was never a big enough name, so most likely no one would care enough to buy the book.”
He would bet his last dollar that she was parroting someone else’s opinion on the subject. And that someone had meant so much to her that his words carried enough weight to destroy her dream. Feeling daring all of a sudden, Seth reached over to take her hand in his. He brushed his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. “He was wrong, you know.”
Bridey looked puzzled. “Who was wrong, Seth?”
“Whoever told you not to try. Failure hurts, but it won’t kill you. Not trying at all is what sucks your soul dry. Don’t underestimate yourself, Bridey. You have a real gift for what you do.”
Although she didn’t say so directly, her soft smile proved his comment pleased her. Bridey stared down at their hands for several seconds before looking up. “You’re a nice man, Seth Kyser.”
He laughed again. “G-glad you think so.”
Unsure what more to say, he turned the conversation in another direction. “So what other goodies do you plan to add to the menu for the holiday season?”
Bridey gave him a wide-eyed look. “Why, Mr. Kyser, are you volunteering to be a test subject again?”
He leaned back, doing his best to look innocent. “Anytime, but right now I’m just being curious.”
Bridey frowned a little. “I do want to change things up a bit, but it’s hard to come up with a lot of different ideas without making things too complicated. Although now that I have Fiona to help, things should be easier. I’ll be adding a couple of seasonal drinks. Eggnog and a pumpkin spice drink, for starters, and a new spice tea, as well. I’ve already started baking gingerbread cookies and some cream cheese spritz cookies you might like. I’ve also gotten quite a few orders from people for boxes of my cookies to give as gifts. I started offering those last year, and people seem to really like them.”
Seth made a mental note to order a few boxes for his agent and some other people he did business with. “I can see why. They get to enjoy Christmas cookies while you do all the work.”
She laughed. “There is that, but really I don’t mind. I love this time of year. Everybody seems friendlier, and all the decorations make the world a prettier place. As far as I’m concerned, you can never have too many lights or candles. I inherited my mother’s snowman collection. I really don’t have room in my apartment for all of them, but I don’t care. I put them out anyway. Unpacking them is like seeing a bunch of friends I haven’t seen in a while, and they remind me of her. How about you? Do you have any favorite traditions?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t even put up a tree in ages. However, I have to admit helping you put up the decorations in the shop might have inspired me to make more of an effort this year.”
Then their dinners arrived, and the conversation became more intermittent. But even when the silence stretched out as they ate, just sitting across from Bridey made the time special.