Chapter 11
The rest of the week passed by in a Joe-less blur. I’d been tempted to go over to his house on a few occasions, but I got swept up in my other obligations. I wanted to know how renovations were going. Wanted to make sure he was eating. That sort of thing. But I simply hadn’t had the time.
Like every year, I was doing a lot of prep for Thanksgiving.
Madison was a menace, making comments all week. Talking about all the times Joe had come looking for me. Calling him a lost puppy. Reminding me of his eyes. Of the way he looked at me. Filling me with false hope I had to stomp out quickly for fear of the spark catching.
I drowned myself in charity work, in planning for the Pie Festival, in helping Leanne and anyone else who needed an extra boost before Thanksgiving hit. And all the while, thoughts of Joe remained.
He was with me, even when he wasn’t.
A silent companion as I accomplished every task on my agenda.
Since moving to Belleville and discovering what it meant to be a part of a community, it had been my goal in life to help people wherever I could. We were all cogs in a well-oiled machine, and every single person who lived here mattered.
I truly believed that.
My childhood hadn’t been like that. Just empty rooms. No one to talk to most of the time, aside from the staff I secretly thought of as family.
Imagine my shock and horror when I’d discovered they were being paid to be there.
Which meant…over the years, some of them left.
Then most of them. Then all of them. I’d come home from boarding school after senior year concluded and realized I didn’t recognize anyone anymore.
Mom’s heart had broken when I told her over the phone how devastated I was. She’d offered to call them all and try to get them back, but I’d said no. I’d be going to college soon anyway. A new place. A new opportunity.
The loneliness had chased me there.
Followed me out the heavy front doors, through the gate at the end of the driveway, and all the way to freshman year.
At least…until I’d met Mary.
She was the catalyst. The person who had brought me here—to my family in Belleville. Which was why, even with my head full of Joe, and my worries regarding him and the massive project he was undertaking, I couldn’t just let that go.
I had a lot of systems in place.
Systems that’d taken me years to develop and implement, especially as there were certain layers of…
secrecy involved. I didn’t want anyone to know I was behind these things, after all.
Didn’t want them to know who exactly donated.
What mattered was that they got the help they needed, not who provided it.
Thanksgiving was the biggest food drive of all.
I’d accepted donations at the store for the last few months, stowing everything in the back till it was time to display it. Thanksgiving morning, I would spend the first five or six hours handing out everything I’d gathered.
Belleville was a small town. People were generous, but there was always room for me to supplement the donations.
I figured it wasn’t a bad idea, all things considered.
No one ever suspected a thing when new winter coats and boots of varying sizes were available.
Nor did they blink when electronics, video game consoles, a few smart phones, a couple TVs—that sorta thing—were lined up in neat little rows.
I figured that come Christmas time, any of those higher ticket items would make awesome presents.
Not everyone had room in their budget for those things.
While I would’ve loved to simply hand every member of town a check, that wasn’t feasible.
Nor would most accept it. It was hard enough getting people down to the food drive.
I’d had to market my ass off about it in the first few years.
Nowadays, those who were in need heard about it through the grapevine, so I didn’t have to work quite so hard.
I figured if Joe was going to make a place for himself in Belleville, he needed to start interacting more with the community. If he wanted a thriving business and to be an integral part of Belleville’s ecosystem—which he totally did, even if he didn’t know it—this was a good place to start.
Plus…usually I ran the drive with Mary, and she was busy this year.
We were expanding my “Santa Fund” project, and even though it was Thanksgiving, there was a lot that needed to be done if we were going to get it up and running in other towns before Christmas.
Which meant if Joe had said no, I’d be doing the food drive on my own.
It was a good thing he’d said yes.
Having Joe there to assist me would be not only fun but a genuine weight off my shoulders.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t fretting about him, though.
All goddamn week.
The curiosity over how he was doing was practically eating me alive by the time Joe showed up to the grocery store Thanksgiving morning. It was twenty minutes before six. He was early. And he was dressed nice.
Really nice.
A crisp white button-up that clung to every inch of him like a second skin. His sleeves were rolled up, ropey golden forearms on display. Veins dancing as he clenched his hands into fists, over and over, tension evident in the way he held himself, ready to bolt.
I pushed the door open, holding it with one arm and giving him space to pass through.
“Morning, Joe.”
“Morning,” he grunted. His fists squeezed so tight the knuckles turned white. He didn’t move.
God, he was cute.
“You gonna come in?” I hummed, keeping the door open wide. Joe startled into action, even his ears pink as he ducked through the opening past my body and headed inside. Having him within the grocery store before it was open felt surreal.
Honestly, having him in my personal space at all felt surreal. An alternate reality. A couple months ago, I would’ve laughed at even the suggestion of this. Of Joe Milton willingly being beside me. Of my crush on him. Of him accepting my help.
“How’s your house going?” I asked after closing the door and locking it behind him.
“Fine,” Joe said. His eyes darted around, cataloguing everything. “What’s the plan?”
Ah. A man on a mission.
“Alrighty, big guy. I’m going to give you the run-down,” I hummed.
Joe nodded very seriously.
“We’re hosting a charity event. For the next fifteen minutes, you’re going to help me finish getting everything from the storage room to here.
We’re going for neat, so people can clearly see what’s available.
The doors officially open at seven, but we’ll have visitors long before that.
Some people have come to me privately with things they need, and I’ve made sure they are available, so they’ll be here before the big crowd.
” I crossed my arms, tapping my bicep absentmindedly as I spoke.
I leaned against the doorway, mind a million miles away—more accurately, an hour away, to the time those doors would open.
“We’ll likely get cleared out by ten,” I informed him. “Then we’ll head on over to Rudy’s for a sponsored luncheon.” Sponsored by me. Again, anonymously. “It’s a community thing. I like to show my face for at least a few minutes, mingle, make sure nobody got missed.”
There was so much to do, and laying it out so concisely made me realize how unhinged I probably looked, choosing to do this every year without fail. Just imagine if Joe learned about the holiday-help list I created each year. Then he’d really be overwhelmed.
“After the luncheon, we’ll check on the planning committee for the Pie Festival tomorrow. Make sure that nobody needs help with anything. If all is well, around four or so we’ll end up at Mary’s.”
“What if all isn’t well?” Joe inquired.
“Then we’ll do what needs to be done.”
He nodded, something docile and obedient in his eyes that I didn’t know how to react to. So I ignored it. For my own sanity. To his credit, Joe took everything in stride.
“Who’s Mary?” he asked, brow pinched.
“My ex-wife,” I explained. “Who I love very much, platonically. The romantic ship sailed nearly a decade ago, but we’re still very close. As friends. Nothing more. Marybeth is her daughter. The little girl you met?”
“I remember Marybeth,” Joe gruffed at me, still flushed.
“You’ll meet Daniel, too—Mary’s husband. He’s a good man. Big heart. Works as a mechanic if you ever need your truck looked at.”
Joe shuffled his feet a little, not making eye contact. For a moment, we stood there in silence. There wasn’t a lot of time left, but I knew Joe needed that. Needed to process.
“You need to know people, Joe,” I said softly.
“Meet people. Talk to people. You’ve got a business to run and success comes from marketing.
Your apples, yes. But…you’re marketing yourself, too.
I asked you to come today because I need your help.
” He straightened a little at that. “This is a lot to do on my own. And I hoped…through helping me, it might benefit you too. If there’s one thing I know, it’s people.
And seeing you here today is going to go a long way toward getting the town to love you. ”
“Why?” Joe asked, still quiet.
“Why what?”
“Why are you so set on helping me?” It was a valid question. And one I didn’t know how to answer. Part of me wondered if I was biased. If I was really doing this because looking at him made butterflies explode in my stomach. But, no. No. I cared about him.
“Because I enjoy it,” I said simply. “Because we’re friends.
” Both true. “And—” My heart skipped a beat.
“Because I want you to see why this town means the world to me. I want you to be a part of it. I want to see you succeed.” That was enough of an admission to get him thinking, hopefully. “What about you? What do you want?”
“I want…to get to know you better,” Joe admitted a moment later. It looked like it pained him to get the words out. “I don’t know how.”
Oh.
That was…
Wow.
That was fucking adorable.