Chapter 14
SADIE
“You really didn’t have to do this,” I say as Grant applies a bead of caulk along the back of my counters.
He does so with precision, biting his lower lip as he concentrates.
And thanks to Sophie, I notice he’s wearing a tight white T-shirt and backward hat again.
Well, I noticed before, but now I’m really noticing.
“I just saw it when I was over here. Easy fix,” he murmurs as he continues to perform the task.
“Well, thank you. I do appreciate it. Would you like some tea or coffee?”
“Coffee would be great. It was quite the day at work,” he answers.
“Oh really?” I grab the bag of coffee and begin to scoop some into the filter before filling the coffee pot with water at the sink.
“Yeah. I saw this gorgeous woman across the street and couldn’t really get anything else done.” He looks over at me with a hint of a smirk and mouths, It was you.
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I look back down at the coffee pot and turn off the water. “Sounds like a personal problem.”
“Oh, very much personal. Not so much a problem.”
I don’t answer as I pour the water into the machine and push the button.
Grant continues with his self-delegated chore, and soon the kitchen smells warm. I grab two mugs from the cabinet above the coffee machine, then open the fridge.
“Creamer?” I ask.
“No, thanks.”
I close the fridge door.
“So, how’s work?” he asks.
I shrug. “Lots of numbers that aren’t mine.”
He glances over at me, a hint of concern scrunching his brows together. “You don’t like your job, do you?”
“I—” I take the coffee pot and pour some into one of the mugs. “It’s not—” I fill the other mug. “It’s complicated.”
I hand him a mug and he takes it. “Or it’s really simple.”
I gently blow the hot coffee in my cup and shake my head.
“It’s like the pizza,” he says. I tilt my head and he continues, “You were going to say the pizza was fine, but then what did you admit instead?”
My lips press together and I shake my head. “That was pizza, not . . .”
There’s a pause hanging in the air. We both know what I mean. It’s not just a job.
“Your family business.” He finally names it.
I let out a deep breath. “Exactly.”
We sip our coffee, watching each other over the rims of our mugs.
“So—” Grant murmurs and then swivels his head around, assessing my house. “Mind if I suggest the next project?”
I drop my chin and smile. “What did you have in mind?”
“Are you emotionally attached to your light fixtures?”
I look up at the ceiling, taking in the ancient brass contraptions that I’ve always thought were ugly. “Not at all.”
“You want to come down to the store on Monday and pick out some new ones? I’ll offer you a discount and install for free.”
“You do electrical work?”
He tips his chin back, swallowing the rest of his coffee in one large gulp. “I do it all, Sadie.” Then he takes his mug over to the sink, where he rinses it out and puts it in the dishwasher.
“But why do all this work for me?”
He moves closer, not touching me, just close enough to feel intentional.
“Because I want to be,” he says.
“Be . . . what?”
“Around,” he answers. “Until you decide what you want.”
I take a step back, pressing my backside into the counter. “You might be waiting a while.”
He smiles softly. “Some things are worth waiting for.”
He says it easily, like waiting has never cost him anything.
I watch him grab his things, step out my front door, and disappear down the sidewalk. His truck roars to life, and it’s not until he drives away that my pulse slows.
My hand moves to pull a knob before I can stop it.
Lying inside the kitchen drawer is an old photo.
A teenage boy with blond hair and an easy grin wearing a light blue football jersey, looking at the girl he’s holding.
She looks like a blade of grass touched by morning dew.
She’s laughing, ignorant of what the next decade of her life will bring.
How long has that girl been waiting—thinking patience was the same thing as faith?
And what has she been waiting on?