Chapter Three
Vera
“Hey, Ruth,” I said, grabbing an apron off the hook and tying it around my waist.
“Hey,” she called over her shoulder, grabbing two big plates from the window and hustling them over to table four. She was the owner of the Bent Rose, but you’d never know it seeing her work. She wasn’t one to hide out in the back office.
The lunch rush had clearly already started, and I grabbed a notepad and pencil to get going. I headed toward the first table, but slowed as I recognized the woman sitting there.
She was the manager of the Wild Timber Homes office.
Glancing at the other people at the table, my eyes landed on the back of one man’s head.
His hair was dark and a little on the longer side, not scruffy, more tousled in a way that made me think he ran his hands through it a lot.
I couldn’t say that running my hands through it hadn’t crossed my mind when he’d shown up at my house the day before.
But I’d been too desperate for help with my project to get distracted by the good-looking carpenter.
“Good morning, folks. Can I bring anyone a coffee to start?”
I was expecting Wyatt to pretend he didn’t know who I was. After all, I was the weird single mom who’d burst into his life looking for help to build a box to hide vibrators. But that’s not what happened.
“Vera! Hi. I’ve been working on trying to figure out your design problem. I don’t think I got any sleep last night, actually. It’s just such an interesting puzzle to try to solve. The combination of making sure the product looks good but also functions for hiding—”
The woman from the office elbowed his ribs, and he clamped his mouth shut.
“Maybe it’s better to talk with her about this when she’s not in the middle of a busy restaurant,” she said.
Wyatt’s ears turned red, and he nodded. “In that case, I’ll have a black coffee, please.”
There was a murmur of agreement around the table, and I scooted back behind the counter to grab the coffeepot. As I turned around to head back to their table, I bumped right into Wyatt.
I wasn’t much shorter than he was, but still my forehead almost collided with his chin; the arm holding the coffee pot hitting his solid chest. He caught me by the shoulders before I could fall back, and the heat of his hands sank into my shoulder through my polyester uniform.
“Sorry, I almost spilled hot coffee on you.”
“No, no, it’s my fault.” His hands stayed on my shoulders, and I made no move to step away. “I just wanted to apologize for bringing up your project in front of a bunch of people while you’re at work. I was just really excited about trying to solve your design problem.”
I tilted my head. He really was cute. It was sweet that he’d thought to apologize, and that he was as excited about my project as I was. Maybe even more so.
I was trying to solve a problem, but my goal in solving it was mostly to help my son pay for tuition.
Wyatt’s interest seemed to be partly professional curiosity and partly wanting to help me.
It had been a long time since someone had wanted to help me just for the sake of being a nice person.
With his too-long hair almost covering his eyes and his bright smile, he was unlike a lot of men I’d met while working blue-collar jobs.
Many people in the trades were hard. Maybe they’d had rough lives, or maybe they’d become hard from the long hours of physical work. But Wyatt didn’t seem to fit the mold. He had a golden-retriever, happy-go-lucky attitude that was as refreshing as it was strange.
“No need to apologize. It’s not like you said exactly what the hidden compartment was for. Besides, I’m really excited to have your help.”
His smile grew wider, and he pulled his hands away and tucked them into his pockets.
The move looked almost boyish, even though the man had to be in his late thirties, if not older.
He gave a single nod. “In that case, I should let you get back to work. We can talk about design later.” He turned and walked back to his table.
I filled their coffee cups and then set about my usual tasks, but before I could approach a second table, Benji came to the counter and took a seat.
I frowned. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I forgot my house key so I need yours. Who was that guy you were talking to?”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I knew Benji was interested in getting me to date, but surely he wouldn’t try to push me together with every man in Wildrose Bend.
“That’s Wyatt. He might be giving me a hand on a furniture restoration project I was thinking about.”
He nodded. “I know who he is. I know who all the people at Wild Timber Homes are. I did a project on them for my engineering class last semester, remember?”
I hadn’t actually remembered that, and guilt gnawed at my gut.
I tried to take an interest in all the things my son did.
He was a really smart kid.
I had always been better with my hands, taking things apart and putting them back together. But Benji had an academic understanding of math, engineering, and structures that I never had. Not even after working in construction on and off for most of my life.
That was what he planned to study when he went to Springwood Technical Institute. He hadn’t decided what area of engineering yet, but I had a feeling his career path would overlap with what they did at Wild Timber Homes.
“Well, why don’t you go over and say hello, then?”
He bit the side of his lip. “Is it weird if I just go over there and start gushing about all the homes they’ve built?
I’d like to know more about what they do.
What kind of software they use. Some things I didn’t think to ask when I did my project before, but I’m starting to think about now that I’m picking my college classes. ”
I tucked the bit of awkwardness between Wyatt and me aside and went into full mom mode. I flipped over the cup on the counter in front of Benji and filled it with coffee. Decaf, because I was still his mom.
I caught Wyatt’s eye over the back of the bench seating and crooked my finger at him. His eyes went a little wide, and red crept up his neck, but he stood and walked over to the counter.
I put an arm over my son’s shoulder, and he immediately tried to shrug me off. “Wyatt, this is my son, Benji.”
“Mom, it’s just Ben,” he interrupted.
I pursed my lips. “Fine. Wyatt, this is my son, Ben. He’s going to be going to Springwood Technical Institute after he graduates, and he’s interested in engineering and architecture.”
Wyatt stuck out his hand. “Good to meet you, Ben. I do some work with those subjects myself.”
“I know, I’d love to ask you about it, if you don’t mind.” Ben was blushing, but he held Wyatt’s eye and pride rushed through me.
Wyatt grabbed the seat next to him and sat down. I had one of those moments where I was struck by how grown-up my kid was, and had to step away.
Seeing Wyatt interact with him was something I needed to distance myself from, too. Wyatt was cute and kind, but I’d fought hard for the peace I had in life now, as chaotic as it was. I couldn’t risk it even for a pair of pretty brown eyes.