All I Want Is You (A Chester Farms Novella) (5 page)

Maddy moved to the door, but she didn't get in any hurry about it and then she stopped before getting outside. "You run this place by yourself?"

"I do."

"Bet that gets hard."

She lifted a shoulder. "Sometimes, but I enjoy it."

Maddy took another lick and still didn't get out the door. "What happens when you get sick?"

"Hope it's on a freezing cold and raining or snowing day when no one will want any ice cream." Tasha started getting an idea of why Whitney sneered at this woman and if she didn't get her butt out, Tasha would be on that bandwagon, too. She gripped the metal bar of her front door and sat back on her polite heels like her parents taught her. This was a customer who knew everybody else in this town. She couldn't exactly toss her out.

A thud echoed through the room and Tasha forced her grin bigger. "Guess I should find out what he's doing in there. Have a good night, Maddy."

Maddy glanced around the room, her lips parted, but whatever might have been on her mind stayed that way and she slipped out the door.

Tasha turned the locks as soon as the door closed and waved as Maddy walked to her car. Once she was in, Tasha shut the front lights off. Another ping sounded from behind the counter and she worked her way there. She was almost afraid to know what he might be doing back there, but then not.

She peeked in and he had maneuvered the thing around her big sink she showered in. The top of the contraption was just a foot or two from the ceiling. It was shaped like a cylinder cut in half and pressed against the wall. The plastic storage bins that had been around her sink were pulled out and away.

He stood back, hands across his chest and head tilted to the side. She eased up beside him. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

He glanced to her and just like that, her breath and heart floated off somewhere together on a cloud that was wearing the number nine. Lord, his smile. Broad, big, and whoa. "What do you think?"

She looked back to the metal thing he'd brought in her room. "I'm not sure what I'm looking at."

He chuckled. "Give me five minutes."

"Okay."

"Do you have something in the front you can work on? I want it to be a surprise."

She rubbed her hands over her hips. "Sure."

She eased away as he stepped around the thing. She grabbed her broom from the corner, but then let it go. Five minutes? She had enough time to stack the chairs over the tables. She'd wiped the tops down earlier and no one had eaten inside since then.

Whatever he finished up was far less noisy. No more of the banging, scratching noises like before. She set the last chair on the table and something whipped and snapped. He didn't call for her, so she set her teeth together and grabbed her broom.

How long did this take? She swept over the floor, going faster rather than carefully as she piled dirt in the center and moved it along to the far wall. She turned for her dust pan and spotted his thick build leaning against the doorway. Solid thighs and hips. He was no lanky man. The long-sleeved, blue work shirt he'd walked in wearing was gone and he was back down to another tight t-shirt. This one was complete with a few burn holes over his chest.

She reached for her jaw and dustpan. Both were on the floor. "I just need to pick this up."

He nodded. "Whenever you're done."

In that case, she hurried, got half of it and flicked the rest away with her broom to hide it. Little dirt on the floor that couldn't even been seen wasn't going to kill anyone. She dumped the dirt off in the trash and did her best not to run through her own store. He was being all cool and casual and laid back. She leaned the broom against the wall and wiped her hands off on a rag. "I'm anxious to see what you've done."

"It's not the best thing, but I think it'll help you out."

She turned the corner and instead of seeing her sink on the opposite side of the room, a pink shower curtain hung from the thing he'd brought in. She covered her lips. "You brought me a shower rod."

"More than that." His brows dipped and he moved past her to the thing. He pushed the curtain aside and pointed at shelves down by the floor. "Steps to get in and out."

"Oh." So not where she was going with that.

He grabbed the frame against the wall. "And this is sturdy, so be sure to hold it when you get in and out so you don't slip. He pointed at a hook along that same piece. "Hang a towel or whatever there."

Her fingertips bumped over the black metal of the shower rod and her breath tore out of her throat. "You made this?"

A single shoulder lifted and he looked away. His gaze dropped in that way right after he paid for ice cream and was seconds from heading out the door. "It's rough on the welds, I'm—”

"I love it."

He looked back to her. "Really?"

"Yes." She walked around, grabbed the frame as he pointed out and stepped up. It didn't rock or even shake a little. "I don't know what to say. Nobody has ever gone through this kind of trouble for me before."

"It wasn't any trouble." He pushed the curtain all the way open. It swooshed along the upper bar in a semicircle and gathered at the wall. He pointed at a high shelf to one side of the frame. "A place to put bottles. I was going to put something to hold the shower head, but I wasn't sure how much reach it had. And going from memory, I didn't know about the angle and I didn't want to get it wrong."

She touched the plastic curtain. "I can't believe you did this for me."

He nodded and pushed his hands in his pockets. "Well, it wasn't just for you. That's what I want to do. Be a welder. I need more practice and this was an idea to practice on."

She eased to the top step. This thing was so sturdy, she could hang shirts from it if she could keep the water spray off everything. "I'm touched. Thank you."

He cleared his throat and lifted the curtain. "You might have to trim the bottom up a couple feet so that you can drape it inside the sink while you shower and you won't step on it."

But if it was long, she could store stuff under the sink and it wouldn't show with the curtain closed. Not that anyone was around to see it, but still. She caught his gaze. "Good point."

On the top step, she was eye to eye with him. She tried really hard not to cry, but crap. Water was clouding up her sight. For months it seemed she'd been on her own. Then somehow, she’d found Whitney to lend a friendly hand and now him.

He frowned. "Is something wrong?"

She sniffed and tried to suck it all up. She stroked her hand down the frame that was also a safety hold as she eased down the steps. "No. Not at all. Thank you just doesn't seem like enough."

He lifted a shoulder and turned in the room. "I need the practice and the metal is all spare from work and free to take. Anything else you need?"

Not only helped her, but was willing to do more. She caught her breath. "I didn't even know I needed this, but I'm so thankful to have it."

"If you can't splash in the shower, not much point in taking one."

She pushed hair back and nodded. "You have a point."

He rubbed the back of his head and looked away to the side. "I'm going to go. Work comes early tomorrow."

"Yeah. At least after that is Thanksgiving."

He nodded. "Absolutely. I’ll be off Thursday and I'm just on call Friday in case something comes in. Day after a holiday during hunting season is usually slow."

"Good. We can all use some rest."

"If you think of something else you need in here, just let me know. I...need the practice." He lifted the bag that she now saw had tools in it and hung it on his shoulder.

She could probably come up with a dozen things he could make if she thought about it long enough. She'd looked at hundreds of those homes people were making out of small spaces and she could no doubt make a list off of that. But she wouldn't. Asking for something was one thing. It wasn’t special like her new shower he'd created. That, and she didn't want him coming around just to make her stuff. It'd be cool to have him around to just to talk or possibly more. "Do you want some ice cream?"

He rubbed his belly. "I'm okay. Thanks."

"Oh, okay." She pushed her hands in her back pockets. "Well, thank you. I guess I’ll see you Thursday."

That's what they'd said three days ago and here he was. On Tuesday. So, maybe repeating the same line was good luck to see him again tomorrow?

"I'll be there all day."

"Me, too." Or she really didn't know. All Whitney had said was to come eat with them. She didn't know a whole lot about the Chesters, but from what she'd seen so far, they didn't go halfway on anything. An all-day event for a big holiday like Thanksgiving sounded about right. "Let me walk you to the front so I can lock up behind you."

He nodded. "Please. Does anyone know you're staying here like this?"

"Whitney does."

His brows dipped and eyes searched her. "And you've got her number, right?"

"Yes. Her cell and Chester House."

"Okay. Good." He nodded and stepped away. The intensity that had just been rolling off him disappeared as he got further away. "Just want to make sure you have somewhere you can call if there's trouble."

"Yes. I have two numbers." She lifted a shoulder. He was getting closer to the door. Then she’d be alone. When all this started a few months ago, it'd been crazy exciting. Living on her own. Out there doing her thing when people said she couldn't. Now it was lonely. "Three numbers seem like better odds. Just in case. Three’s a charm, they say."

"They do say that." He grinned and reached for a piece of paper.

It was a receipt. She didn't care and handed him a pen. "I appreciate it."

He nodded as he wrote. "Anytime you need something, just call. I'm only a few blocks away." He lifted a shoulder. "Closer than Whitney, actually."

She touched over the paper. "I'll keep that in mind."

She walked with him the last little bit to the front door and her belly was practically dancing. Not just some soft sway either, but a leg-kicking line dance. He was tall at her side. The swing of his arm as he walked almost brushed against her. They were at the door and she turned the key to let him out, as much as she didn't want to.

He stepped out and turned back with one foot halfway out the door. "Do you want a ride to the farm on Thursday?"

"Sure."

"I'm getting there early. Around nine and I'll be there all day." He lifted that same shoulder. "I can run you back into town, of course, if you need to leave early."

"All day sounds fun." She glanced around at the empty shop. What else did she have besides coming back here to be alone? She couldn't drive out to her parents. Not yet. "It'll be nice."

He nodded. "It will be."

"Okay."

"Okay," he echoed. He started away, but turned back. "Tasha?"

Her chest was tight as she lifted her gaze and met his. "Yes?"

He reached forward, but fisted his hand and brought it back to his side.

Chapter Five

Patrick lifted the ham platter to his shoulders as Whitney ducked under his arms on her trip back to the kitchen. Five minutes until eating time and he was hungry enough to eat all twenty pounds of pork on the tray he carried. Then the dressing next with the turkey, rolls, mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce and whatever else might be along the twelve foot table. By the time all the food was on the table, there wouldn't be an inch of empty space. He'd dipped celery and cucumbers in ranch all morning that he shouldn't be this hungry.

He lowered the plate on the end near Sam's chair. Sweet, maple, and pineapple scented off the top and his stomach rumbled right on cue. He rubbed his belly. "I hope we're about ready."

Mrs. Jana came out with the bowl of mashed potatoes and grinned his way. "Almost. Can you help Tasha with the glasses?"

Absolutely. When they got to the house that morning, she was shuffled right into the kitchen to help with food. He hadn't seen much of her since and even then, she was right with Mrs. Jana, leaning over a pot of some kind and following instructions. That hadn't exactly been how he thought this day would go since Whitney had always spent the entire morning with them on the couch watching the parade. Whitney wasn’t much for cooking if it wasn't microwaveable. Maybe Tasha liked it. There was still a whole afternoon and evening ahead and he planned to make the most of it, starting right now.

He counted heads once again. He'd counted everyone this morning when he'd pulled plates from the china cabinet, but it never hurt to double check. Never knew when someone would pop through the backdoor when he wasn't looking. Two adults, three kids, three friends of the oldest Chester sibling, friend of Mrs. Jana and that woman's daughter and he and Tasha. There were no limits on the number of chairs that could be squeezed around a Chester dinner table.

Only twelve still so far. That wasn't right. He looked to Mrs. Jana. "Don't we usually have close to thirty?"

The big smile on her face softened a little. "My sister and her family aren't coming this time. She has a stomach bug, so they're all staying in Texas and doing a meal for her."