Chapter 6
Leah
“Holy cats!”
I jerk my finger away. His luscious, plump lips make a smoochie sound as the pressure releases and those soul-stealing, panty-melting sensory organs smack together. I hide both hands behind my back for good measure.
Holy cats, Leah? A man has his lips on you for the first time in forever, and the sexiest thing you can come up with is holy cats?
Manny and the guy who showed up in the wrecker sputter and then begin braying like jackasses. That’s when I realize I’ve once again voiced what I was thinking out loud. Shaking my head, I slap my trembling hands against the heat flooding my cheeks.
I search for something… anything to help me ignore the two of them laughing at me.
Dammit, I can’t stop the weirdness that comes out of my mouth—especially when I’m stressed.
Spying the tub of containers I’d set on the picnic table, I pull in a cleansing breath, letting my shoulders drop from around my ears, and concentrate on not making a mess as I ladle the chicken and dumplings into serving-size containers.
I can’t help but worry over how I’m going to move to someplace safer that isn’t over an hour away.
“Leah?”
I startle as the weight of Manny’s palm settles against my spine. Wearing a sweatshirt, I can only imagine the heat his touch would create on bare skin and almost moan as the sensory image ping-pongs through my brain.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, not wanting to risk sounding like an idiot again.
“Come meet my boss and best friend, and then I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh, lordy.” I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises today.
Manny chuckles and turns me around. “This is my best friend, Aaron. He’s a native son of Wintervale and half-owner of the garage. He’s lived here his whole life. Aaron, meet Leah, our prettiest customer.”
I blush at the compliment.
The man waiting a few feet away is taller and broader than Manny. With his full beard and buffalo plaid, he looks like a lumberjack. His avid regard is unnerving.
I bite my lip and stick out my hand. “Hi, uh, thanks for agreeing to drop off my truck.” There, that sounds normal.
“Hey. It’s no problem. You paid me, right?”
Oh yeah. Okay. Now what do I make small talk about?
The weather? The garage? I wince. Not the garage.
That’s not a part of my world anymore. Anything I say will just lead to questions, and then, if not outright hostility, disdain.
No, thank you. Been there, done that, don’t need the shirt to prove it.
“Speaking of paid,” Manny jumps in. “Look what I have!”
Grateful he’s filling the silence; I stare at the small package he’s holding in his palm.
“Oh, thank you. Well, this solves one problem, I guess.” I pluck them out of his hand. “I’ll, uh, have to grab the owner’s manual from inside. Um, would either of you like to come in?”
“Not me, my wife is probably wondering where I am. You got this, Manny?”
“Yep, I’ll see you Monday.”
“Um, Aaron?” I call as he reaches the wrecker. When he turns, I blurt out my question. “Do you know Larry, the cab driver?”
He tips his head, his serious gaze boring into me, making me feel silly, but I forge ahead.
“Do you know where he lives?”
At his nod, I rush back to the picnic table and quickly place two bowls of soup and two desserts into the empty tub. I then hurry across the campsite to him.
“Can you deliver this to him? I’ll gladly give you money for your time and fuel, just let me grab my wallet out of—”
“That’s not necessary. His place is on my way home.”
He gives me a searching look but takes the tub. He walks to the passenger side of the wrecker and tucks the box on the floor before circling back to the driver’s side and climbing into the cab.
“Thank you.” I puff out a relieved breath. “Oh, if it isn’t too much trouble, can you let him know I’ll call him tomorrow to see how he’s feeling, too?”
Aaron nods and slams the door. As the truck fires up, I step back and watch as he drives away.
“That was a sweet thing to do,” Manny says as I march over to the camper.
“Larry’s a sweet guy. Do you still want to come in while I grab the manual? Once I change the fuses, I’ll have to call around and find the closest RV dealer and a house or something I can rent for the next few weeks.”
“Why do you need an RV dealer? Whoa! What’s all this?” His eyes widen as he surveys my sewing machine and the piles of fabric and colorful scraps lying on every flat surface in the living area and dining table.
I explain my business, The Vagabond Quilter, and the reason why I’m in Wintervale to begin with.
To my amazement, he’s really interested in what I do and what I’ve created so far.
I leave him to sort through a box of finished twin-sized quilts and pillowcases I’ve made for my favorite charity, No Kid Sleeps On The Floor In Our Town, while I grab the owner’s manual.
With his help, swapping out the fuses only takes a few minutes.
While we’re doing that, I explain the problem with the propane tanks.
Sock-footed, Manny relaxes in one of the loveseat’s recliners, quietly listening. At the same time, I muss over my choices, sorting and storing away my sewing machine and the tons of fabric lying around.
The man really is a unicorn; I didn’t even have to ask him to remove his boots like I used to have to do with my ex.
Every. Fudging. Time. I glance at him, releasing a girly sigh.
Yup, a fudging unicorn, indeed. His eyes are closed, his ridiculously long lashes dark against his light brown skin, and then there are those lips. Wow.
I’m not sure how long I stand here watching him sleep, but when his eyes suddenly open, a jolt of lightning shoots straight through my heart and into my core.
Oh, lordy, I’m in trouble.
“Leah,” he calls softly as I look everywhere but at him. “I have an idea, and before you shoot it down, I really want you to consider it, okay?”
“Ah, yup, sure-sure, okey-dokey-smokey.”
Okey-dokey-smokey? Why, oh, why can’t I be more urbane? A little more refined? Not such a complete idiot? The little grin tugging at his beautiful mouth makes me squirm. Is it getting warm in here?
“No, Mama, it isn’t warm in here at all, but you know what is?
My house. My house is positively toasty.
I have three extra empty bedrooms. I also have a partially finished walkout basement.
There’s plenty of space for you to set up your Vagabond Quilting stuff, and there’s room in my garage for the camper until you find a dealership that can fix it.
I’d love for you to accept my hospitality. What do you say?”
What? Is he seriously inviting me into his home? I mean, why? Other than Larry, no one has cared about my well-being in a really long time. Why would he do that? I stare at the pile of batiks in front of me and blink away the tears misting my eyes.
The closing of the footstool and Manny rising to his feet is startling in the hushed stillness. It’s almost as if we’re the only two beings left in the world. I hold up my hand to stop him as he steps into my personal space. I won’t be able to respond with any rationale if he touches me.
“Why? Why would you offer that?” I whisper anxiously.
It’s not like he’s asking me to sleep with him, for goodness’ sake, but still, I’m tempted beyond belief.
To accept his offer, not sleep with him.
Well, maybe I’m tempted to do that, too.
Gah! Focus, Leah! My good sense should be screaming at me to run.
I mean, it’s insanity to even consider moving in after only knowing him for a few days, right?
But my heart… oh, my soft, tender heart, she yearns to say yes, to belong and be accepted even if it’s only for a little while.
“Maybe I see your kindness to Larry and want to offer you the same thing?” His voice is as quiet as mine, but his is infused with conviction, where mine is wary.
“Maybe I like your sense of humor. It’s adorable how you ramble, talking to yourself, even when I’m standing right in front of you.
Maybe I want to chase away your loneliness because I have a feeling mine will disappear along with it.
Mostly, I think it’s because I feel this…
I don’t know… connection with you I’ve been searching for my entire life. I think you feel it, too, don’t you?”
“That’s… insane. We hardly know one another…”
“Aaron knew his wife, Brielle, was the one after a single night together, but he let her walk away the first time. He didn’t make the same mistake twice.
I’m ninety percent sure you’re my one, too.
I want to be able to spend time together and give this attraction between us a chance to flourish. Stay, Leah. Give us a chance.”
“There are things you don’t know about me.”
“Of course there are. There are things I need to share with you, too. Things we’ll learn over time. This is the beginning of ‘us,’ Leah. All you have to do is say yes. Please say yes.”
This is crazy. It’s quick and totally impulsive.
After years of regimentally isolating myself by knowing exactly where I’m going and how long I’m willing to stay, I’m considering jumping into something that could be as detrimental as free-falling without a parachute for my mental well-being.
Yet, I can scarcely ignore how much I yearn to stay.
I guess I could stay with him until my contract with the UM-Extension program ends.
Taking a leap of faith, I give him the answer we both want. “Yes.”
“That’s my girl.”