Chapter 9
Stone
“What are those?!” Camilla sounds exasperated as she points to the batch of lumber I brought.
I set my hardhat back on my head, ready to do some heavy lifting. “Tree trunks,” I answer.
“Tree trunks,” she says with a sarcastic tone. “Tree trunks,” she repeats, this time sounding angry. “Lying on the sidewalk, that I am now responsible for.”
“Yeah,” I confirm, not understanding why she’s so upset. “Tree trunks.”
“Why? Why would you bring those here?” She sounds like she’s a hair away from hysterics as she complains in a loud voice. She’s not shouting, but at this time of the morning, she might as well be.
“I thought they might work well for the arches. Also for the shelves on the main wall.”
“I want my bakery to look elegant, not like we’re on a picnic in the middle of a garden!”
“I wasn’t going for a garden, but that can be elegant. It can look delicate and dainty.” As I say it, I see it. I didn’t intend on using the tree trunks in their natural form, but now that she put the idea in my head, with a nice stain, I think they’ll work perfectly.
“I don’t want my bakery decorated in a manner that will make customers wonder if, at any minute, bugs and squirrels are going to charge at them to steal their food.”
“That wasn’t my idea, but the more you talk about this, the more perfect it is. It would bring the cost down, and I promise, it would be one of a kind.”
“Of course it would be one of a kind. No one is dumb enough to have tried it before!”
I might be made of stone, but her razor-sharp words cut me. People don’t always value my perspective, but no one assumes I’m dumb over a difference of opinion. This woman makes Magnus look like Mother Theresa.
“It will look amazing.” I continue to explain.
“Your customers will feel at home, and I think it will inspire not just you, but everyone who comes in. Besides, people here are a lot more down to earth than the hoity-toity crowd you’re trying to attract with marble and crystal chandeliers.
My way will bring them in by the droves and keep them coming back. ”
She looks defeated as she interlaces her fingers at the back of her head with her elbows pointed outward.
She turns her back to me. “I don’t believe this.
The whole point of opening this bakery is so I can stop doing what other people want and do what I want for a change.
And then I have to deal with you, and it’s like you’re not hearing me at all. ”
“Hey,” I place my hand on her shoulder to offer support, but feel something beneath it on her shirt.
I leave it for now. First things first, she’s upset, and I want to reassure her that I’ll do whatever it is that she wants.
“I was just throwing out an idea.” She turns back to face me.
“I thought it might be helpful to get you attention and save you some money.”
“Why are you so concerned about my bank account? Do I look like I’m not able to pay?
” Her eyes dart down for a quick moment as she looks herself over.
Knocking my hand off of her shoulder, Camilla hugs her arms around her chest. I know she’s putting on a show of strength and independence, but her behavior, paired with her last comment, hints that there is something sad and broken inside her. Something I’m yearning to fix.
I take a step back to give her some air and change my focus. Maybe the problem lies with me. My size. My determination. I’m not used to dealing with human women. I can’t help but wonder if she senses I’m different and if that frightens her.
“I’m looking to give you options because I want you to choose Eternal by Design to do the work.
” At least it’s a half-truth. It’s better than telling her I want to make sure she’s in a position to stay in Erie Cove so I can see her day and night when I end up frozen and perched on the bank across the street.
“If we do a good job, you’ll recommend us.
That could lead to a promotion for me. This is all about making the customer happy. ”
“Then do as I ask!” She pleads, and guilt eats away at me.
I didn’t mean to push what I wanted on her. I only wanted to surprise her with alternatives and see her smile. I nod and try to keep from grumbling to myself, at least until I leave, and she’s out of earshot.
“How about this?” I suggest with a heaviness in my chest that makes me feel nauseous and ache all over.
“I’ll make a draft of what I think you want from talking to you the other day, along with another drawing demonstrating how I think using the tree trunks in their natural form will enhance the look and design.
Either way, they stay because I plan to use the wood from them regardless.
I’ll have the drawings ready by the end of the week.
In the meantime, look at the paint colors.
Pick one out so I can get started, free of charge. ”
“This is crazy.” She looks away and shakes her head.
“It’s not really, if you think about it. I’m just offering you white-glove service.”
She takes a few heaving breaths, considering what I said, and it takes every ounce of self-control to stand still and keep my focus above her neck. Finally, she closes her eyes and screws up her face before looking at me again.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Really?” Hope makes me feel warm and bright, like a sun rose and now lives in my chest.
She nods.
“Great. Then I’ll see you later.”
“Wait! What about the tree trunks?”
I flash her a quick smile. “Give me two minutes, and I’ll have them inside.”
Her eyes dart from me to the trunks and back.
“That’s impossible.” She looks on either side of the trunks. “I don’t see a dolly or any other way to transport them.”
“Don’t need anything. I’ll just pick them up and move them.”
“There’s no way you can do that without seriously hurting yourself. I’ll help you.”
“Absolutely not,” I say, taking a step closer to her, making sure to keep my voice soft and low so that I don’t frighten her.
I can’t help myself. I stretch my hand out and hold the back of her neck.
She stiffens beneath my touch but doesn’t slap my hand away.
I stroke her cheek with my thumb. Her eyes open wide, and I let go.
“Just watch.” I smile and force myself to move away from her, out of the front door.
I scoop up half of the trunks in my arms and bring them inside the empty store. “Should I leave them in the middle?” Camilla’s already big, brown eyes open wider.
“How?” She looks from the bundle in my arms, and back up to my face. “How are you doing that?”
I shrug before setting the tree trunks down on the floor.
“It’s no big deal. Oh, before I forget, here are the paint swatches.
” I pull the color cards out of my back pocket.
“You said pink or cream. Look these over. If you don’t like them, I can always pick up more.
” I hand them to her before heading back outside for the rest of the trunks.
I place them next to the first batch, then sort through a batch for the scaled-down arch I carved for Camilla last night.
She doesn’t say anything this time; she just stares at me, unmoving, like she’s been turned to stone.
“Camilla, are you okay?”
“What?” She blinks her eyes a couple of times. “How did you carry those? That’s superhuman strength.”
“I work out. A lot.” I try to remain modest as I flash her a smile, proud that someone finally took notice of all the time and effort I put into my body.
“How? By lifting trucks?”
“Take a look at this?” I roll up my sleeve and flex my arm, showing off my extra-large bicep. To my surprise, Camilla tries to wrap her hands around my upper arm. One on top and the other below.
“My fingers don’t come close to closing.”
“Watch this, wrap your arms around it.” She follows my direction, and I pull my arm up a few inches, lifting her off the ground. I do this two more times before she removes her hands.
“As much as I’d like to stay here with you and show off, I need to get to work. Is it okay if I stop by at the end of the day?”
Her full lips part, but she doesn’t speak for a few seconds. Finally, Camilla releases my arm, steps back, and tugs her shirt back down. “Yes, of course.”
“Great.” I smile. “Pick a color so I can buy the paint. I’ll be back later.”
She nods.
“Oh,” I almost forgot. “One more thing.”
I lean in for a second, and her breath changes. That’s a good thing, right? Her arms straighten until her hands reach my chest. She splays them over my shirt, and I freeze. Is she touching me to explore my muscles, or is she keeping me at an arm’s length? I fight my desire to kiss her.
Our eyes lock, and suddenly the air around me is thick with want and expectation, which makes no sense because I don’t even like her.
Not very much. But she’s beautiful and sexy.
I admire her feistiness. But then there are moments when her vulnerability shines through, when she’s not looking to pick a fight, that draw me to this softer side of her.
I let that urge hang between us. Instead, I reach for her shoulder and pull at a stray piece of material on her shirt.
Disappointment resonates in her eyes as I hold the tiny piece of fabric between us. Something akin to fear seeps from her eyes as the shape of the thong comes into view. She snatches it away as pink coloring fills her cheeks and chest.
“Static cling,” I say with a shrug, trying to play it cool. She doesn’t answer, just stares at me as if her eyes are lasers that can burn a hole through me. I didn’t mean to make her feel bad. “Bet that pale pink looks great against your caramel skin.”
“Too bad you’ll never know.”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. My hard-headed gargoyle nature kicks in. By telling me I can’t, she’s made it so now I have to. Challenge accepted.
She doesn’t say anything more, and I walk out feeling light as air with a strange sensation tickling my chest. There’s a buzzing in my blood.
A part of me that has remained dormant until now has awakened.
I only hope I can get it back to sleep before the constriction of my jeans strangles it for good.