“Trace, wait,” her dad called out, hopping across the garage toward her. “Don’t look.”
Uh oh. What damage were they frantically trying to repair? She ducked under the rising door to take it all in, needing to see for herself that there wasn’t a growing puddle of blood somewhere.
Folding her arms over her chest, she thumbed her bottom lip, her smile growing to oozy gooey adoration. Safety goggles on the pair of them, power saw disengaged but nearby, drill in his hand, Cole was bent over a pile of finished lumber, standing slowly as she rushed in.
Her dad flipped his safety goggles up and held his hands out. “Trace. This was supposed to be a surprise for you.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” she said, biting her lips together as she scanned the stacked lumber that was a lot tidier than the tarped heap had been.
Cole stood tall, his weight on his good leg, and he pushed his hair back. “We, uh, had to get creative. Some of the pieces were… missing. Along with the instructions,” he said under a cough.
Jeremy blushed and fired him a traitorous look. “And I am grateful for the assistance,” he said as he nodded confidently.
“Glad to help,” Cole said, flashing Trace a wink when Jeremy wasn’t looking. “Definitely a two-person job.”
Trace grinned wide, flashing back to the first time Cole had discovered her father’s… lack of talent.
Some people were technically minded, creative, even, whereas others were more adept at delicate sorts of crafts. Both of her parents fell into the latter group. The sewing shop knew them well, for how often their matching machines needed repairs.
Back in the day, when Cole had been with them three, maybe four months, Jeremy had screamed bloody murder from the deck, where he’d been trying to replace a board. Cole had driven him to the ER, then took care of it before Jeremy could attempt it again. Shop class was the only class he never skipped, especially after that day.
“Now,” Jeremy began, moving closer to stand and appreciate with her. “Normally, you know I count on you to help me out with my projects, but I knew your special bookcase from Grandpa hadn’t survived the move. Sort of a welcome home present, but as it is taking longer than I anticipated, it will be more of a housewarming present for your next place.”
“Oh, Dad, that’s so sweet. I loved that bookcase.”
She crossed the garage and got a closer look. Tracing her fingers along the edges, the raw espresso finish that gave it a modern rustic look, she smiled at how Cole had cut and sanded and repurposed unfinished boards from another failed project.
He shut off the main power to the saw and shrugged, stepping close and rubbing his fingertips over the shelf she was admiring. “I, uh, wasn’t sure that we could match the finish, so I was going to ask what you thought before trying. We could just leave it natural, contrast rather than mismatch?”
“I like it. It’s perfect.”
“I can finish it with a clear stain, so it’ll be more durable, but… I’m glad you like it,” Cole said, slipping off his goggles and pushing his hair back again.
“Very much,” she said, realizing she was blushing and stammering and he was blushing and stammering. Blushing even harder at the discovery of them both blushing and stammering awkwardly, she stepped back and nudged him in the tummy. “You’re looking better today.”
“I feel pretty good,” he said, taking a deep breath. He did look better, but she could see the exertion had wiped him out, still a little pale.
“How about we order pizza and veg out with a movie?” she asked.
“No hot date tonight?” he asked, flashing a teasing grin like he might have years ago when she’d had fancy plans with Finn, but there was something new and less… certain, than in the past.
“Not tonight,” she answered, nudging him again.
Cheek firmly between his teeth, he looked at her… without looking at her. He pushed his hair back, blushing for no reason now.
Oh. Shit. A glimmer of memory burst into a lot. Holy shit, she thought she’d imagined offering to… um… damn.
Her cheeks heated to fevered levels, and her eyes widened. Trace’s mouth dropped to a stunned smile, and she looked at him, trying to read him and see if he was thinking what she was thinking.
He puffed a breath, the corner of his mouth curving up, and he looked past her toward the worktable.
Double shit. She really had. No wonder he’d been avoiding her.
Jeremy stepped up next to her and nodded with appreciation as he inspected the shelf in progress. “I’ll message Ellen about picking up some pizza on her way home. We have a book club meeting tonight, so you two are on your own for dinner.”
Voice a bit high pitched and borderline nervous, Cole cleared his throat and said, “That sounds great. Thank you.” Without looking at either of them, Cole set down the tools, and quickly glanced back at Jeremy. “I’ll, uh, finish this up tomorrow. I’ve got some ideas, so don’t feel like you need to do anything without me.”
Jeremy laughed and stepped back. “Of course not. This is your project now. I won’t interfere.”
