Emmy gave up on trying to find a magical book in the library. It was hard to set that idea aside because then she’d have to admit she didn’t have any others. It also meant she didn’t have anything to occupy her time while Will was at work. She’d toyed with the idea of expanding what she’d done with Will’s yard, but she knew it looked great the way it was. She wouldn’t have capped it off with the I-have-finished-redecorating-this-yard wind chime if she’d thought it still needed work. Because of that, she was sitting inside nearly vibrating out of her skin with restlessness. She’d browsed various streaming services, tried a few shows, flipped through channels, and eventually landed on a public broadcast woodworking show.
The host, a man with a fantastic mustache and a surprisingly soothing voice, was describing the process for safely and securely clamping wood to the workbench without leaving marks on the material. Within minutes, despite having no interest in woodworking, Emmy found herself contemplating the practicality of having Will buy hera table saw. She was saved from going down that mental rabbit hole by a knock on the front door. More than grateful for the distraction, she immediately jumped up to answer it. By the time it occurred to her that this wasn’t her house, and she probably shouldn’t be opening the door for people, she’d already done so. The man standing on the front step wore a flannel shirt with the top couple buttons undone, revealing a white undershirt and a hint of the chest hair beneath. His jeans were faded at the knees and his work boots looked well worn. Emmy recognized him quickly enough.
“Truck Guy.”
He chuckled lightly. “I usually go by Paul, but you can call me Truck Guy if you want.”
“No, sorry. I just… didn’t catch your name last time,” Emmy said lamely. She hadn’t expected to see him again, and the fact that she could now see that he was tall and muscular made her wish she’d hunkered down on the couch and waited for him to leave.
“I didn’t catch yours either,” Paul said, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“Uh…” Should she lie about her name? She didn’t see how he could use it against her. “Emmy.”
“Well, Emmy, I’m happy to see you made it wherever you were walking to the other day.” He leaned on the doorframe, and Emmy tried not to feel like he was looming over her. Tried not to believe that was his intention. “Do you live here with Will?”
“Yes. He and I are involved,” she said pointedly.
His smile didn’t fade. It was accented by a hint of dimples beneath the scruff of his beard. “That’s a shame. I suppose that means you and I aren’t destined to run off together.”
“Afraid not.”
“Ah, well.” Much to Emmy’s relief, he stepped back from the door. “Is Will home?” He lifted a large paper bag off the ground and showed it to her. “I usually stop by this time of year to drop off some fresh vegetables. Farmers’ market starts soon, but these’ll go bad before I get a chance to sell them.”
Emmy couldn’t respond right away as she was busy having a mental argument with herself. Tell the big, strong man thatherbig, strong man was at work? Or lie and say he was home? Would he press her on it? Did he expect money for the vegetables? He wouldn’t hurt her, would he? This was a romance novel. A sexy man wouldn’t be…couldn’tbe dangerous in a romance novel, right?
“Uh…”
Paul raised an eyebrow.
“I can take them,” she said quickly, trying to avoid answering the question altogether. “Does Will usually pay you?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I only charge if I’m at my stall.” He handed over the bag and Emmy took it, relieved that he hadn’t pushed for more information on Will’s whereabouts. “You tell him there’s probably more where this came from, okay?”
“Sure. Thanks.” She opened the bag, saw a vibrant variety of peppers, carrots, squashes, and more. “They look delicious.”
“Only the best from my farm.” Paul winked, and Emmy had to make a concerted effort to stop herself from cringing. When she didn’t say anything else, he rapped his knuckles twice on the doorframe. “I guess I’ll head out now.” Hiseyes stayed on her face. His smile was easygoing. All charm. “Should you and Will have any… trouble in paradise… you just walk in the opposite direction as last time. My farm isn’t that far away at all.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I hope you do.”
Emmy didn’t slam the door when he stepped back, but she badly wanted to. As soon as it felt socially acceptable, she shut the door quietly but firmly. Then she locked it. Then she gave the door a tug to double-check it was locked. Though Truck Guy…Paul… hadn’t acted in any way threatening, she felt a little shaky. Her eyes fell on the bag of vegetables. They did look delicious, and she doubted they were drugged or anything. How could he drug a squash? And what would be the point? She took the bag into the kitchen and made an effort to put everything in the proper place. Carrots here. Tomatoes there. Will had a designated spot for everything. Just thinking about keeping her own apartment organized like that was exhausting.
And no good habits were formed that day, Emmy thought to herself, shutting the fridge.
She dropped the folded-up bag into the recycling bin and then flopped back on the couch. Mr. Woodworking was in the middle of assembling a fancy-looking chair. She told herself to change the channel, that she wasn’t interested, but somehow got caught up in the process.
When the doorbell rang sometime later, she jumped a foot in the air. Pressing her hand to her chest to ease her galloping heart, she looked toward the entryway. He wouldn’t have come back, would he?
Instead of rushing to the door, she walked quietly and made use of the peephole—something she absolutely should have done the first time around. Paul was not back. It was Bright waiting on the front step this time.
Emmy pulled open the door. Unlike with Paul, if Bright decided to attack her, Emmy was pretty sure she could win that fight.
“Hi!” Bright chirped. “Can I just say I love what you’ve done with the yard? It looks gorgeous.”
“Oh, thank you. Do you want to come in? Will’s at work, but he’ll be back in a couple hours.”
“I know. I texted him to ask if it was okay to come over since Jared didn’t have your number. He said you’d be home.”
