“Ah,” Finn said, doing nothing to hide his grin. “You’ve heard that one before.”
Jack’s mock glare came in answer.Right.He could get along with this chap.
“Are you looking for something more consistent?” Finn asked, already weighing the idea. If Harry trusted him, that was enough. And it wouldn’t hurt to have a local on hand while he got his bearings.
Jack tilted his head. “Depends on what you’re offering.”
“Flexible schedule, steady hours, and the occasional interruption from a six-year-old art critic,” Finn said. “Ever worked in a restaurant?”
“As a jack-of-all-trades”—Jack’s eyes lit—“how can you doubt it? I’ve worked in several restaurants and held a few management positions.” Jack’s response came with an easy drawl. “But I’d need something with enough flexibility to work with my photography.”
Before Finn could respond, there was a soft shuffle behind him. He turned to find Lucy peeking around the corner, her wide eyes locked on the stranger. She took a few steps closer, plaits bouncing as she moved to hug Finn’s leg.
“Well, here’s my little artist now.” Finn rested a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Lucy, this is Mr. Austen.”
“Jack,” the man corrected with a grin, slowly crouching to her level, the movement hitched a little. “Or Mr. Jack, if your dad insists.”
“Lucy, this isMr.Jack.” Finn always watched people’s faces when they first met Lucy, wondering if they noticed the small scars or tiny remnants of her healed surgeries. He supposed he shouldn’t put so much stock in that initial observation, but, as a dad, he felt as though he knew how to move forward with a person based on their reaction.
Lucy stared at him for a beat before tipping her head to one side and offering her hand. “Hi.”
Jack shook her tiny hand like she was a CEO. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lucy.”
Lucy giggled.All right, Austen. You’ll do.
“Harry said your movers are arriving Wednesday.” Jack rose back to his height and thumbed over his shoulder toward the door. “I’ve asked some guys from church if they’d be on call to help, if you need some.”
“Help?” Finn blinked. “You have friends who would help me with my furniture?”
“Sure.” Jack shrugged, giving the room another glance, as if taking inventory of what they’d need to bring inside. “Unless you’ve got some other folks already lined up.”
Finn gave his head a shake. “But you and, certainly your friends, don’t even know me.”
“You’re in Wisteria now, Dashwood.” Jack’s grin shifted with a teasing twist. “Everybody helps everybody else, whether they want it or not.” He raised his brows. “Inallsorts of small-town, country-folk kinds of ways to be... neighborly.”
The sentence held its weight with unvoiced meaning. Good and bad, Finn supposed, as most small towns went. His thoughts strayed back to his “neighbor,” the tea shop woman. Neighborly didn’t quite fit his initial interaction with her. A twinge pricked at his conscience again. Yes, he should attempt to make amends.
After all, his plans were long term. No use starting things off with a neighbor on the wrong foot, was there?
“I really don’t know how to respond to such kindness.” Finn glanced about the room to rein in his surprise. “The movers are paid to move furniture into the apartment next week, but I do have supplies for the restaurant arriving Wednesday morning.”
“You got it.” Jack gave an easy salute and backed toward the door. “Let’s say nine? Unless we hear directly from you.”
“Y-yes.” Finn’s brain continued to digest the information. “Thank you.”
“Wisteria is a good place to call home, Dashwood. You’ll find most of the people friendly and ready to help.” He tipped his head toward Lucy. “See you Wednesday, Lucy.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Jack.” She tightened her grip on Finn’s leg with one arm but waved with the other. Good progress.
“And, Dashwood”—Jack opened the door, stopping on the breezy threshold—“you know another thing about small towns?”
Finn pulled his mind from the memory of the pink lady. “Lower prices? Easy access?”
“Curiosity.” Jack tipped his chin toward the front window, where two older women were blatantly peering through the glass. When they realized they’d been caught, they scurried off like guilty schoolgirls.
Finn groaned. “Fantastic.”
“You’re gonna cause quite a stir. New guy in town. British. Dad.” Jack’s grin turned devilish. “And from what Harry says... single?” His blue eyes took on an added gleam. “Just wait till they start planning the welcome committee.”
