Chapter 11
Joel
“Ya see, I knew this would happen,” I gripe into the speaker phone while standing in my garage. The one I don’t even use to park my truck, but for storage instead. Namely the storage of my holiday decorations.
“What happened?” Ace, my middle son, asks, his voice filling the entire garage.
“All of the damn lights got tangled up and some aren’t working. Now I have to go through them to see which ones work and which need to be replaced. This is what I get for letting you kids put away my decorations last year.”
“Weren’t you the one who put away the lights last year?” he asks.
I stand erect. “Is that the point, huh? Does it matter who put the damn things away? The problem is now they need to be arranged all over again. This is going to postpone when I can do the decorating.”
Since Aiden couldn’t make it into town, and Gabe, Lena, and their kids had to leave town early this morning, I chose to put off decorating the house. But I still came out to check over everything to make sure it’s all functioning correctly.
Good thing I did.
“I plan on running to the store tomorrow to pick up a couple of things. I can grab some lights for you and drop ’em off,” he offers.
The offer’s nice but strangely my enthusiasm isn’t what it used to be.
“That’d be nice,” I tell him anyway. “Thanks.”
“Knock, knock.”
Ellyn’s smokey voice interrupts me.
“Who’s that?” Ace asks through the phone.
It takes me a beat to realize I’m smiling at the woman standing in my garage doorway rather than answering my son.
“Neighbor,” I reply.
“Hm,” I catch him say. “Wait, Joel, is that the really pretty one that—”
“Talk to ya later, son.” I disconnect the call.
Ellyn cocks her head to the side, confusion wrinkling the space between her brows. “Do your children really call you Joel?”
Thrown by the question, I reply, “That’s my name, isn’t it?”
Her brows spike, and I mentally kick myself for being so damn defensive. It’s not her fault she doesn’t know my history.
“It’s just …” I clear my throat, “what they call me,” I manage to say.
She nods.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.”
She apologizes while my eyes roam over the long, grey cashmere sweater, which she’s paired with a white, body-hugging V-neck and white bottoms. Her hair is styled in a high bun with a few curls on the sides.
And she’s bareface.
In other words, she’s utterly beautiful.
“What the hell are you doin’ out of bed?” is what comes out of my mouth instead of what I truly want to say.
She blinks before her eyes widen. Then she puts her hands on her hip.
“My doctor told me I was cleared to walk around two days ago.”
I toss the lights in my hand back into the box before moving toward her. As I get closer, I allow my eyes to scan her body from head to toe.
“I’ll be the judge of that. These damn doctors don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.”
“Isn’t your daughter-in-law a doctor?” she asks.
I grunt. “Physician’s assistant. Something like that,” I say even though I know exactly what Savannah’s job title is.
“I remember,” she says. “Because you told me the day you came over to paint the doorframe. While we were having coffee,” she adds as if to jog my memory.
What I don’t tell her is I remember every conversation we’ve had.
“You mean you didn’t find that information in one of your internet searches about me?”
“One internet search. I don’t make it a habit of Googling you.”
“Why not?” I jut my head back, affronted. “I’m interesting.”
She grins, which is exactly what I wanted to see.
“I came by to return these.” She holds out a gift box with my black cowboy hat on top. “It’s the Thanksgiving decorations you left at my place.” She nods her head at the hat. “And your hat, obviously.”
I narrow my eyes. “You can keep those.”
“The decorations?”
All of it, I think but manage not to say out loud. The idea of one of my ranch hats hanging out at her place doesn’t sound too bad. Even if it is my favorite. I like the idea of it being at her place … of something, anything, of mine being at her place.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I curse myself.
“What was that?” Ellyn asks.
“I said, you’re going to re-injure your wrist carrying all of this stuff over here like this.” I take the box from her hands.
“You live right next door. Took like thirty seconds to walk over here. And it wasn’t even that heavy.”
“That’s not the point,” I say, placing the box on a wooden chair in the corner of my garage, before taking Ellyn by the arm.
“Then what is the point? And where are you taking me?” she asks while I pull her into the garage.
“Take a seat here.” I direct her to the cushioned two-seater I keep in the garage. “I don’t give a care what those doctors say. You shouldn’t be standing too long on that injured hip.”
“Then it’ll really piss you off to know I went to Pilates this morning.” Her tone is so proud I have half a mind to turn her over. Heat as hot as a Texas summer shoots down my spine at the idea of having Ellyn at my will.
I turn away from her, clearing my throat, forcing myself to get those damn images out of my head.
“What are you doing with those lights?” she questions.
“Not much anymore. They’re not working,” I gripe as I frown down at the massive pile of Christmas lights in the box. “Ace is picking me up some tomorrow, but I should probably tell him not to bother. I should get them myself.”
“What’s wrong with them?” she inquires. “It might just be the bulbs on some of them. Have you tried plugging them in?”
She inches to the edge of the couch like she’s about to stand up.
“Don’t get off that couch,” I warn.
Her eyes widen before they narrow in challenge. “I’m not that injured anymore. I’m well enough to walk over here to bring you back your items.”
“Which you shouldn’t have done.”
“And I’m well enough to help with a few Christmas lights,” she continues, ignoring my comment. “Let me see what you have there.”
I push the box closer so she can see without pausing to think about how this woman is giving me orders in my own home. And I listen.
“You have enough lights in here for the whole neighborhood,” she gasps when she gets a look inside of the box.
“This is only one of three,” I tell her coolly.
Her eyebrows come close to touching her hairline. “I know your electricity bill is through the roof.”
“It’s worth it,” I counter. “How else do you think I’ve won the Harlington Neighborhood Christmas Decorating Competition three years in a row?”
“So I’ve heard,” she says with a roll of her eyes toward the ceiling.
“Right, then you can’t expect me to work with shotty Christmas lights. I’m not giving up my position in the competition this year.”
I point to the house across from mine. “Ol’ man Gilbert just snuck something into his house the other day. He thinks I didn’t see it, but I know the department store box. He bought new holiday decor. They think they have a chance of beating me with new stuff.”
I tut. “You would think he knows better by now.”
It’s not until I hear Ellyn laughing that I turn her way again. She’s covering her mouth with her hand.
“What?”
She waves her hand, shaking her head. “You really are so caught up in all of this. It’s, um, well, it’s adorable.”
My head jerks backwards. “Adorable? My grandbaby, Amelia, is adorable. The holiday competition is war.”
That really gets her going and she starts cracking up. Which, in turn, makes me crack a smile. I do enjoy the sound of her laughter.
“Well, the least I can do is help you out in this ‘war’ as you call it. Let’s try unraveling the lights and testing them out.”
With a nod, I make my way over to the box and pick up one of the largest piles of lights and start to unravel them.
Together, Ellyn and I go through pile after pile of lights, testing which ones work and which ones either need new bulbs or are just completely shot.
“These are beautiful,” she comments after we finally get to the third and final box. “I’ve always liked white lights as opposed to the red and green colored lights.”
“Always?” I ask.
She nods. “Mhmm. But the kids and their father preferred the colored lights. Meghan’s favorite color is red while Shanice’s is actually green. They would always fuss if I even suggested changing out the lights for a different color.”
A whisper of a smile crosses her face.
“Then one year their father came home with blue lights. I’d asked him to buy some new lights on his way home from work. Even told him the specific aisle they were in and to make sure to get the red and green lights.”
She sucks her teeth.
“Of course, he came home with the wrong color. I had to go to the store myself and get the right ones. I swear to this day he did it on purpose.”
I grunt. “Sounds like an ass,” I say without thinking.
“He was,” Ellyn agrees with a snort. “I shouldn’t talk about my kids’ father like that.”
“Why not? He’s not here,” I say while winding one of the working light sets around a plastic holder to keep them from tangling up again.
“And if he was, I guarantee he wouldn’t say a damn thing. Not if I had something to say about it. And I would have something to say about it.”
Ellyn gives me a half grin.
“Gina loved green and red lights, too,” I say at the same time I go back to securing the lights. “I prefer the white lights. We compromised and alternated each year.
“When the boys got older, we let them decide,” I tell her, a ghost of a smile crossing my lips.
“Gina. Your wife?”
I nod. “She was always better at this sort of thing than I was.”
“Looks to me like you’re doing a pretty good job at it yourself, Mr. I’ve won the neighborhood competition three years in a row,” Ellyn says, glancing around.
“I had a good teacher,” I reply before rising to my full height. “Thanks for your help with the lights.” I move closer to her and stretch out my hand.
When she places her hand into mine, I tighten my hold and help her to stand. Ellyn’s breath hitches when I pull her up to stand, bringing our bodies within inches of one another.
In the back of my mind, I know it would be the gentleman’s thing to do to step back and give her some space.
But I’m not a damn gentleman.
Never have been.
“Do you miss her?” Ellyn asks, as we stare into one another’s eyes.
“Every day,” I answer honestly. “Do you miss your ex?”
“No.” Her answer comes fast and unyielding.
My gaze drops to her lips. I wonder if they feel as soft as they look. Right when I’ve made the decision to taste them for myself, my phone alarm goes off.
I grunt out a curse before taking a step back to retrieve my phone from the table. “That’s my alarm,” I tell her, though she’s probably figured that out already.
“Do you need to go?”
I gesture toward the door that leads inside of my house. “Just inside. Lena’s show starts soon. She’s doing a Christmas show.”
“Lena?” She frowns before her eyebrows raise. “Oh, right. Lena Clarke. She’s your daughter-in-law. I love her music.”
“Watch it with me.” I take Ellyn’s hand into mine before she has the chance to say yes or no. “Have you eaten dinner?”
“Meghan and I had an early dinner before she left for the airport, but …” She trails off.
“Good. I’ve got tons of leftovers. And I don’t like to toot my own horn …” I pause. “That’s a lie. I love tooting my own horn. I’m a hell of a cook.”
Ellyn sighs and grins. “Well, I mean if I must … I could be convinced to eat something,” she answers, voice exaggeratedly exasperated.
I tighten my hand, realizing that I’m still holding hers.
This feels a lot like a date all of a sudden.