13. Chapter 13 #2
“You’ve got a head for management, my friend.
” Chet slapped Eric on the shoulder as he passed.
By this time on a Thursday, the Galley was almost half full, but now there were only a few tables occupied.
Must be the weather , he thought, wondering how much of Nelie’s business was impacted by the cold and snow.
But the kitchen was busy as usual, and he nodded at the line cooks and the guy in charge of washing the pots and pans.
Chet opened the door to the interior stairs that led to her apartment.
The stairwell was like the Galley with its dark wainscoting and ivory paint above it.
There was a small table on the landing with an artificial plant and a lamp, casting a warm glow.
Laughter greeted him as he walked up the remaining stairs.
He’d heard more of that in the last month, and it was music to his ears.
The girls were happier. He was happier. He hoped Nelie was happier, too.
He and Nelie had had a few stolen moments since their auction sledding date , but nothing significant, not even on Valentine’s Day.
He’d sent her flowers, a dozen red roses, not caring that it wasn’t creative or unique.
They were what he felt. He was head over heels for her.
Even more than he’d been the first time.
Nelie had loved the flowers, but what had really melted her heart were the heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies he and the girls had made the night before.
Nelie said they were the tastiest cookies she’d ever had.
Ava’s smile was so big, Chet had thought her face would break in two.
It had been worth the hour of cleaning after the girls had gone to bed.
Ava loved baking and working in the kitchen, so Chet didn’t mind the extra ten minutes he’d added to his HIIT routine at the gym.
He raised his hand and knocked. The laughter stopped, and he heard feet thumping toward him. “Where’s your invitation?” Piper asked, peeking around the door.
“What invitation?”
“To our fashion show. It’s by invitation only.”
Chet tweaked her nose and opened the door.
“I’m with the press,” he said, walking into the room.
She giggled and Ava smirked. A snowflake pillow sat on the couch where a pumpkin one had been in the fall, but otherwise nothing had changed.
It was a large and airy apartment with light gray paint on the walls and lots of natural light.
Nelie had positioned a plant by the windows overlooking Main Street.
Across from that was the outer door and deck—large enough for a small bistro table and two chairs—that led to the municipal parking lot below.
It was a heavy steel door with a chain and a deadbolt, but Chet wished it had more, like a dragon and a moat.
A few dirty dishes and cups sat on the peninsula bar—no doubt from the girls’ after-school snack—and homework littered the kitchen table.
It was nice to see homework on the table and not the stacks of business work and bills Nelie used to keep there.
She’d made a lot of changes in the last few months, and he was proud of her.
He knew it wasn’t easy to carve out a personal life when you owned a business.
If an owner wasn’t careful, the business ended up owning them.
“What do you girls think of this one?” Nelie asked as she turned the corner. Chet’s eyes widened, and he gulped.
“Oh, hi,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t know we had company.” Chet unzipped his parka. The room was suddenly unreasonably warm.
“It’s not company,” Piper said. “It’s the press.” Chet nodded, forcing himself to blink.
“Turn around,” Ava said, spinning her finger, oblivious to her father’s distress. The girls sprawled on the couch, so Chet perched on the armrest. He wasn’t going to miss this show.
“Yeah, turn around. Slowly.” He’d been on enough beaches to know it was a modest two piece—not a bikini—but if he wasn’t there with her, it showed too much of her creamy, soft skin. Nelie squinted at him, but she complied. His heart thumped in his chest.
“Florida can be cold in March. Maybe you should wear one of those long-sleeved swim shirts?” he suggested, wondering where he could buy one for her.
“Eighty isn’t cold,” Nelie said, raising her eyebrow.
“You’ll burn. Working indoors year-round, your skin isn’t used to the sun. You need to treat sun protection seriously. Staying covered is your best option.” Her lips twitched.
“I’m sure I can find someone to rub sunscreen on the places I can’t reach.”
“That’s what worries me,” Chet grumbled, and she laughed at his discomfort. She’s enjoying this too much.
“I liked the red one best,” Ava said with an evil twinkle in her eye.
“The one with all the strings?” Piper asked.
“A red bikini?” Chet choked out, and Nelie slowly nodded as her smile bloomed.
“Should I go put that back on?” she asked, sounding helpful and innocent.
“Only if you’re trying to kill me.”
“Swimsuits can’t kill, silly,” Piper said, laughing.
Chet stood and rolled his shoulders, loosening the tension building in him.
“Why don’t you two get yourselves packed up while I have a word with Nelie?
” Chet gripped Nelie by the elbow and marched her down the hallway to her bedroom.
The walls there were a deep bluish gray, and it looked like there was a colorful quilt buried under the clothes strewn across the queen-sized bed.
He dropped her elbow and leaned against the doorjamb.
The room smelled like her, spicy sunshine with a hint of grease.
He wondered if the smell came from the kitchen below or if it was embedded in her work clothes.
“I know it’s a mess, but are you too afraid to come in?” she asked, pawing through the clothes on the bed.
“Lead me not into temptation and all that.” He stopped to catch his breath. “And right now, you are the poster girl for temptation.”
“So, you approve of the suit?”
“Is a burka an option?” Nelie’s brow cocked. His comment wasn’t politically correct or culturally sensitive, but he wouldn’t apologize. He was desperate. “How about one of those suits with the skirts that go to your knees and a long sleeve shirt?”
“No! It’s this or this.” His tormentor cackled, holding up the red bikini and pointing to what she wore. Chet quickly looked away, spotting a tropical-themed, one-piece swimsuit with a high square neckline by her pillow.
“How about that?” he asked, pointing to it.
“That one’s a keeper, but I need a backup.” He could handle one of those as a backup. Maybe.
“Do you have a cover-up to wear to and from the pool or beach?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Yes.”
“Then that one’s fine.” He frowned and pointed at the one she wore.
Nelie stepped toward him and brushed a sweet kiss on his lips.
“You’re cute when you’re worried.” Chet had never worried when Heather had left for her medical volunteer trips to Costa Rica, and he knew she always spent several days at the beach before returning home.
Although maybe I should have . Chet wondered if that’s where the cheating had started.
Had they really been volunteer opportunities or an excuse to spend time with him?
The same him she’d left for Australia with.
But Nelie wasn’t Heather, and he wasn’t worried.
Worry was a hot knot in his stomach, not a clenched jaw and the need to pummel something.
He rubbed his chest. I’m jealous. It was an unfamiliar, unwelcome feeling.
He’d never been jealous. Ever. He hated the idea of strangers, strange men, rubbing lotion on her back.
How would Nelie feel if the situation were reversed?
Would she be okay with women touching him?
Was he in too deep, too soon with Nelie?
Too late now. He rubbed harder on his chest, needing to quiet his pounding heart.
“I’m not worried. I’m jealous. A week with you in Florida with all the warm sand and sunshine sounds about like heaven right now,” he said.
He’d own being jealous, but he wouldn’t tell Nelie the real reason.
He’d let her think it was because of the weather, not because he’d gone territorial, caveman on her.
“Maybe next year we can all go together. But this year, I’m having my Florida adventure.
I can’t remember the last time I had a real vacation and I’ve never been to the beach or seen the Gulf of Mexico or even the ocean.
Be excited for me, please?” Nelie bounced on her toes—just like Piper did—excitement radiating from her.
He smiled. She was adorable—and sexy—when she was excited, and Chet felt like a heel.
He couldn’t stomp on her happiness. It would be like kicking a puppy.
“I’m excited for you. And happy for you. I know how much you’re looking forward to it.” And if I stop acting like a jealous jerk, maybe she’ll show me her tan lines when she’s back.