Page 238 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

"He'll appreciate the help," Kelly answered with confidence.

I didn't believe her, but the prospect of doing something was too great to turn down. The whiz of the drill started again, and I followed it like a siren's call.

The minivan was parked in one of the garage stalls, the other acted as a woodworking shop. He hunched over a board suspended on work horses. To his credit, instead of rolling his eyes when he saw me, he jerked his chin in welcome. I closed the kitchen door behind me. The scent of wood shavings and motor oil were even more comforting than the cookies. I swung my arms, my hands hitting my thighs with a smack, unsure of what body language would be correct in this instance. At least his attention had returned to the two planks of wood he was screwing together.

"What do ya got goin' here?" I asked.

"A bookshelf for a friend's grandkid."

"Nice…" I nodded, more bobble head like than human. "Can I help?"

He grunted in what seemed like affirmation.

Though he had it in hand on his own, I folded myself into his task. For a few minutes we didn't speak—just passed tools back and forth. When we started adding the shelves, he asked, "You've never dated my daughter?"

My shoulders fell. The silence had been too good to last. "No, Rose and I have always just been good friends."

"Why? Don't you think she's beautiful?"

"Of course she is." My tongue grew a few sizes too large in my mouth, and I struggled not to jumble my words together. "It's just never been there."

"What hasn't?"

"Attraction, I guess."

He made ahuhsound in the back of this throat. Speaking with his eyes on his work, he started, "I'm gonna ask a blunt question."

Trepidation tangled my stomach in knots. "Okay…"

"What are your feelings for Lizzy?"

Oh shit.

I leaned a hip against the workbench. Crossing my arms, I searched for the best way to explain. How much should I say?Whatshould I say? He waited in patient silence.

"We met the night before I got here." I searched every corner of my brain for the words to explain to him while also keeping my foot securely out of my mouth. "I like her a lot. More than I've liked anyone in a long time."

He paused in his task, his brow furrowed.

"I thought…we could…" I tried to continue, but my convoluted thoughts were unintelligible and half-formed explanations. "Date."

It was such an inadequate word for what I thought Lizzy and I could be. What else was I supposed to say to her dad?

Well, Jim, after just a few days of knowing your daughter, Lizzy, I want to devote the rest of them to her. But she doesn’t want the same.

"Anyway, last night she told me she's not interested in a relationship because of how public my life is."

His jaw set, and a line formed between his thick pale eyebrows.

I scraped my palm along my jaw. "I don't even blame her. It's gotten kinda crazy." Heat warmed my cheeks. "I've…It's as if, in chasing a modicum of fame and fortune, I've lost some sense of myself. Lately, my choices have been embarrassing at best. I am not exactly inspiring confidence at the moment."

"Would you give up the show for her?"

"Honestly, I'm questioning if I want it."

Jim fixed me with a glare. "You better figure out what you want or you're going to break both of my girls' hearts. Rose wants this show, and Lizzy clearly sees something in you."

The urge to ask him what he meant by that was hard to ignore, but he didn't seem like he'd be willing to explain. And asking would make me look desperate—which I was. But hopefully, he didn't know that.

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