He shrugged. “Your dad gave me my start.”
“So, what, now you owe him forever?”
He almost laughed. But it was true enough. “We were partners. It’s my business now. My responsibility to…” He broke off.
“Finish the job?” she suggested.
“Fix things.”
She smiled sadly. “You can’t fix everything.”
He sure as hell couldn’t bring her dad back. Joe was pretty sure Anne had forgiven him for letting Rob go up that ladder. He still hadn’t forgiven himself.
“Yeah, no.” He held her gaze. “But I’m still bound to try.”
“Which is why you got all his stuff.”
What the hell?
“His ‘assets.’ ” She hooked air quotes around the word. “His equipment. His workbench.”
“Right.”
Maddie was a proud woman. Too proud to take the financial help Joe had offered. So he’d taken everything that had any value, anything he could use or sell to pay the bills that had accumulated, to scrape up the cash to buy out Rob’s half of the business.
“Do you still have it?” Anne asked. “His workbench?”
“It’s around.”
“Where?”
Joe gestured broadly. “Here. There.”
Her gaze darted from the reclaimed lumber stacked vertically along one wall to the shelves of smaller wood scraps before fixing with almost painful intensity on his face. He could see her mind working behind her eyes, but the light was gone. Doused.
“Salvage,” she said in a flat voice.
“No point letting good wood go to waste.” He didn’t know what had clouded her face but he didn’t like the change. “Everything okay?”
She waved her hand. “Everything’s good. I’m good. I should go.”
He didn’t want her to leave. Not like this. He missed theway she’d glowed when she first came into the woodshed—her energy, her warmth and enthusiasm. He didn’t know what to say to get them back. To bring her back.
“So, about that desk…” he tried.
She flinched. “It’s fine,” she said abruptly. “It doesn’t matter.”
Which was obviously bullshit. But accusing her of lying was no way to convince her to stay. Joe frowned. “Listen, Anne…”
“Thanks for the tour. I really like your table. Tell Hailey I’ll see her tomorrow, okay?” she said, sidling for the door.
Like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Maybe it was for the best, Joe thought as he observed her flustered retreat.
Kissing her six years ago was a mistake. Starting something with her now was a complication he didn’t need. But watching her walk out the door, he was uncomfortably aware that he’d screwed up somehow.
And he didn’t know how to fix it.
