Chapter 17
Nervous energy tickledJack’s spine, making him antsy.
After watching movies with Jo the night before, he’d asked if she wanted to see some of the furniture he’d made. It wasn’t often he invited people to see his work. When it didn’t sell at the art fair, he’d just assumed it was bad, but this was Jo, and if he was going to share it with anyone, it was her.
Taking a rag, he went to swipe it over the older pieces. Layers of dust had gathered since he’d stored them in the shop. Maybe he should have covered them with something, but the shop was well-built with no leaks. He coughed as he kicked up dust.
“Jack?”
Man, he should have thought of dusting them before now. He tossed the rag, fanned his hands to clear the dust from the air, and walked to the entrance of the shop.
The moment Jo came into view, the world seemed right.
Watching movies with her the night before was fun in more ways than one. First, he’d had the privilege of seeing her childhood bedroom, still very much a throwback. Pictures of boybands dotted the walls, along with photos of her and her friends, even a few with Craig. The furniture was an antique white with flower details. Her bedding was too cute. Apparently, she loved hippos because not only did her pajamas sport the animal, but so did her comforter and the figurines that lined the highboy next to her closet.
Her relationship with her grandma was sweet. There were a few times he’d caught her grandma giving Jo the same eye Jack’s mom had given him at times when she thought he liked someone as she was doing her best to meddle.
A little after midnight, the movie had ended. They’d devoured the popcorn, and she’d walked him to the front door. That’s when he’d asked her to meet him at his shop. It’d popped out, mostly out of need to see her and some out of giving her a peek into what made him Jack. He figured he’d seen her inner sanctum; it was only fair to share his.
“Hey, come on in.”
She walked in and looked around. Her gaze darted this way and that as she seemed to take it all in before turning left toward the row of tables on the left side of the shop.
He’d never had anyone study his work the way she did. Most just glanced over it and moved on. Not her. She stopped in front of one of the more difficult pieces, the one with marble inlay. That piece had taken him hours. It was one of his first tables. He’d cut pieces, fit them, trim them a little more, and finally assembled it.
“Jack, this is…” She paused long enough to look at him. “You made these?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, why do you sound so surprised?”
“Because this isn’t just furniture. These are works of art.” She went back to studying them, brushing her fingers over the geometric patterns. “How many hours did this take you?”
He joined her in front of the table. “Uh, a few weeks, maybe more. If I tell you something, you can’t laugh.”
Her eyes met his. “I would never.”
Swallowing hard, he eyed her and then smiled at the conviction in her voice. “This table was in a dream I had, and when I woke up, I had to make it. Took me days to figure out how to make it come alive.”
“I love it. Have you tried selling them?”
He shrugged. “I did once, at an Abilene art fair. It didn’t go so well, so I loaded them all up, packed them in here, and that’s when I started my career in contracting.”
To say he’d been disappointed was an understatement. After spending so many hours making them, it felt like he’d been doused with water. All the passion he’d had for furniture making died, and for a while he’d quit doing it. It wasn’t until recently that he returned to creating anything—starting with the surprise he wanted to show her.
“But you still build furniture, right?”
“Yeah, I do, but it’s just for me.” He didn’t really want to open himself up to that humiliation again.
She slipped past him and swiped the dust covering the top of the next table. It was intricate, too, one he’d made later in his building days. “Have you tried building a website? Going on social media to talk about your process and gain a following?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Nah, I’m not much on websites. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love technology, but I like my unplugged life.” He dropped his arms as he studied her. “How about you? Have you thought about building a website and selling your pictures? You already have the following. I’m sure people would snatch up Jo Stewart prints.”
“No, I haven’t had time, and I have a following for my wedding articles. I’m not sure how that would translate to photographs.”
“Can’t hurt to try, though, right?”
“I guess, but for now, there’s no way I can balance that and all the travel I’ll be doing.” She licked her lips and pointed to the tarp. “Is that what you wanted to show me?”
He held her gaze a moment before smiling. She was ready to move on to a different topic. There was part of him that wanted to keep her on the current subject, but he decided to let it go. “Yes.”
The relief that showed on her face was humorous.
Jo followed him across the shop, and he took the tarp in his hands and slowly pulled it off, watching for her reaction.
Her jaw slowly dropped.
It’d taken hours to carve the thing, but it was his gift to his brother and future sister-in-law, and based on the look Jo was giving him, the work had paid off.
“Oh… How long did it take you to do this? And when have you been doing it?”
“I began working on it about six months ago. I could just feel it coming. It wasn’t a shock when he told us he was going to propose. I was banking on her saying yes. If she’d said no, I would have figured out something else to do with it.” He chuckled. “As far as when, it was finished a few days ago. I just had a little touch-up here and there.”
“Serenity is going to melt.” Jo looked at Jack. “This is… unbelievable. What type of wood did you use?”
“Texas ash and pecan.” His gaze roamed over the piece. “I thought the warm tones and distinctive grain pattern would be good for the structure, and the deep-chocolaty pecan with its smooth texture would be a good contrast. I thought the mix of hearty and delicate would be a nice contrast.”
Her gaze moved from him to the arch and back a few times as silence stretched. “You do realize that as soon as the pictures are printed, you’ll be carving arches for the foreseeable future, right?” She slowly approached it, hoovering her fingers a breath away from the wood. “This is… beautiful, Jack. I’m holding back tears.”
What did he say to that? Jack scratched the back of his neck as heat raced to his face, setting it on fire. He searched for words to respond, and when he looked at her, she held a sly grin.
“So, big plans for the bachelor party?”
He dropped his hand to his side. “If by big plans you mean hanging out here, having a few drinks, and maybe taking a swim in the pool, then sure. What about the bachelorette party?”
“Lucy is opening the café, and we’re going to have a light dinner, then we’re going on a scavenger hunt on Main Street.”
His eyebrows rose. “What?”
“I may have helped her maid-of-honor convince a few of the businesses to stay open late so we could do something fun. We didn’t want to chance going to a bigger city where Serenity would be recognized. She just wants something simple and sweet—which seems to be a theme with her.”
“It does. Ethan didn’t want anything too big either, and he’s never been one for wild parties.” Jack gently replaced the cover on the arch. “It’s not my thing either. At least, not after I got hurt.”
He nodded to the shop entrance, and they strolled to it.
“So you were a wild man before that, huh?” She teased.
Embarrassingly so, he hated to admit it. He was just glad most of it wasn’t caught on film.
“Actually, yeah. Stupidly wild. I thought those people were my friends. I mean, they were always around. It wasn’t until after I got hurt that I realized just how friendless I was.”
Palming his arm, she replied, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. In many ways, that accident was awful. Painful. Something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but in other ways, I think it may have saved my life. Strange as that might sound.”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound strange. It sounds like wisdom.”
“Well, that was hard learned then.” It didn’t help that he had a head made of steel.
“I bet.” She dropped her hand from his arm and toed the ground. “Um, well, I better get going. I promised Serenity I’d go with her to pick up her bridesmaids. She wants shots of them in the airport and then shots when we return to Wishing Well.”
Jack grinned. “Sure. Thanks for coming over… Letting me show you my junk.”
In a blink, her eyebrows knitted together, like he’d said something offensive, but for the life of him he couldn’t fathom what. She lifted on her toes, took his face in her hands, and said, “Don’t you ever refer to your art as junk, ever again. Do you hear me? Just because people didn’t appreciate it in the past doesn’t mean it’s not art. It is, and it’s beautiful.”
He stared at her a beat, swallowed hard, and replied just above a whisper, “Okay.”
Her gaze dipped to his lips and stayed there long enough that he wondered if she was thinking about kissing him. He knew he wanted to kiss her, for sure. So badly. The memory of that last kiss flashed before his eyes, and he could practically feel her lips on his.
Slowly, she stepped back as she took her hands from his face. A look of surprise mixed with regret seemed to reflect back at him.
“Okay. I guess I’ll get going before I’m late.”
He worked his jaw, unclamping his mouth just enough to reply, “Sure.”
“See you later.”
“Yeah.”
Jack watched her walk away, fists clenched and unclenched with each step. Almost like she was fighting with herself to keep going, it was certainly taking effort not to jog after her, take her in his arms, and kiss her.
Twice. He’d held strong twice.
They were friends. She wanted to be friends.
Maybe that argument would hold if there was a third time.
As the saying went, third time was a charm… his head and heart just couldn’t agree if it’d be an evil or a good one if they happened to kiss again.