Teller blew out a breath and took the stool next to mine. “Make it girly. I want it so dainty that a guy like Gideon would throw a clot knowing I drank it after our talk.”
Tenor sat on the other side of me. I settled in. I wouldn’t have another drink, but I’d stay and let Autumn’s advice filter into the recesses of my mind. Maybe she was right. But maybe it was too early to askJonah what he wanted out of us. After all, he wasn’t even willing to be seen on a date with me in Bourbon Canyon.
Jonah had packaged the tables and stools in protective covering and padding and hauled them to the loading door. My luggage was packed and I was ready to return to Bozeman. Mama had called while Jonah was finishing up in the shop.
He was cleaning up his workbenches and reorganizing tools. Buckets got stacked in the corners, and every once in a while, he’d stoop and pick up a stray screw or scrap of wood. He was meticulous about his workspace, but this was the most relaxed I’d seen him all weekend.
I sat on one of the stools he’d made himself with a swivel bottom and a gorgeous polished wooden seat that looked like it’d been made from stone. “You got it all done.”
He nodded and grabbed the broom. Less tension rode across his shoulders, but it was still there. “Almost. When the delivery is signed off by the client, then I’m done.”
I’d seen the table when it was completely finished. Stunning. Custom art. Jonah would be inundated with orders if he wanted. “You’re really not doing another project like that again?”
“Nope.” He shook his head and buzzed around the shop with the broom. I’d given him a massage last night after a full day of working on his feet. His limp had been more pronounced and he’d squirmed on the couch,telltale signs that he was achy. Today he was moving better. “The pressure sucks the fun out of the job.”
I tried to equate his resistance with something from my world. We’d have one barrel to make a batch with and sometimes there were packaging catastrophes. Copper Summit had more barrels and could absorb a few disasters. Jonah was a one-man show and he’d take a failure personally.
But I couldn’t get over how well the table had turned out, or how thrilled the customer would be when he saw it. “I think you did his dad’s collectibles justice. Very few people could do that.”
Instead of finding a dustpan, he grabbed a shop vac from the corner. “There are others.” He sucked up the debris he’d swept together.
“What made you do this one?”
He didn’t answer until he’d returned the shop vac to its spot. Everything had its place. Then he came toward me, his swagger more pronounced with his leg, but the more I was with him in the shop, the more I admired how he moved. His body was full of power and his limp was his signature swagger. I loved watching him do anything.
I had it bad.
He stopped in front of me and put his hands on the edges of the stool. “I accepted out of a moment of insanity that I blame on you.”
My spine stiffened. I wasn’t sure how much he was playing. “Me?”
“You’re getting me out of my routine, and I decided to try something different.”
Oh. That didn’t sound awful. “Your customer is goingto be so happy. It’s like a still shot from one of the movies.”
“I know. I watched a few of those scenes over and over to make sure I got the positioning right.”
I wasn’t going to tell him how to do his job, but I wished he had more confidence in himself. He was an artist. But I wouldn’t get anywhere pushing him, and I had come out here for a different reason. “Mama called.”
“How is she?”
He always asked about my family when I told him I’d talked with someone. How were Wynter and Myles doing during their first month of parenthood? How was Autumn, since he hadn’t seen her around town in a while? He’d heard Junie’s song on the radio and had to tell me. He’d even asked about my brothers, but there was a thread of regret in his voice each time.
“She’s good. She asked if you’d be interested in coming over for dinner next weekend.”
His expression froze into a carefully neutral look, but his eyes were a storm. Surprise, uncertainty, and probably a little panic wove through his irises. “She wants me over for dinner next weekend?”
His question reminded me of when I interviewed applicants for job openings and they’d echo the question to give themselves more time to formulate a response. “Yes. Us. I can tell her to keep it small. Cruz and Lane don’t even have to be there.” They were the only others who lived at the house with Mama. The rest of us came and went.
Confusion wiped out the other emotions, then recognition set in.
“You’ve never met Lane and Cruz?” I’d talked aboutthem, and I’d assumed Jonah knew them aside from their names and how they pertained to the Baileys.
“Maybe I’ve passed them in the store.”
“They were at the wedding. Probably flanking Mama. They can be a little protective.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Good kids.”
