Page 93 of Just Let Go

She stood in the doorway, scowl on her face, willing him to go away.

“Can I come in?”

“Why would you want to help me on a Sunday?”

He shrugged.

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, you want me to sweet-talk Judge and get you out of here early; I forgot.”

“That’s not it,” he said.

She met his eyes. “Then what?”

He pressed his lips together. “Just thought you could use some help. You reopen in a couple days. Saw this—” he reached in the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a torn page of the newspaper and handed it to her. “I didn’t know if you had a copy.”

She stared at the front page of the paper, her photo staring back at her. He brought her a copy of the article? Never mind that she had a stack of papers on the front seat of her car.

“Anyway,” he said, “I knew you’d be freaking out about how much work you had to do. Especially since you took yesterday off.”

She stood there, mind teeter-tottering back and forth. She was irritated with him, but she had no right to be. She’d been nothing but rude to him since he first came to town—and he had no reasonnotto spend time with Ashley. Even if that time was in the middle of the night.

The thought of it turned her stomach.

She stepped away from the door and let him through. “You really don’t have to help me. I’ve got a plan for the day.”

“You do?”

She closed the door and nodded. “Get my shelves back out. Set the inventory up. Paint my logo on the back wall.” She wasn’t sure if it would all actually happen today, but it made her sound busy, and that’s exactly what she needed Grady to believe. Maybe then he’d leave her alone. Maybe then the somersaulting in her belly would subside.

“Sounds like a lot.” He stood in the middle of her shop, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie.

“I’ll get it done.” She walked over to the counter and pulled out her planner. She had all kinds of notes inside, along with the list of all the tasks she needed to complete. Thankfully, she’d made that list at a time when Grady was not in the room, so it was clear and made sense.

“What can I do?” He took a few steps toward her.

She glanced up. She’d be stupid to turn him down, but having him here was unnerving, especially after their brief encounter only a half hour before. She sighed. “You really want to help?”

“Yes, and I can tell by your enthusiastic reaction you’re excited about it.” He was trying to win her over, but it wouldn’t work. She’d let him help if that eased his conscience, but that was it. They weren’t friends.

“You can get the shelves, I guess. They had to move them out to do the floor.”

“Great. Point me in the right direction.”

She showed him to the back room, where she’d stashed almost everything that wasn’t on the walls. She walked over to a shelf and stood on one side, then glanced up to find Grady staring at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Helping you move shelves.”

“Don’t you have other stuff to work on?” He looked genuinely confused.

“They’re heavy,” she said.

He reached over, picked the shelf up with both hands, and walked out of the storage room.

Well, okay then.

He continued to haul heavy things out of storage, and she turned her attention to the back wall. She’d borrowed an old overhead projector from the elementary school and had just figured out how to project her logo onto the back wall so she could trace it before painting it in bold black. In her head, it would tie the whole space together. In reality, she found herself paralyzed to start.

---