Page 25 of Lovingly Restored

“I won’t touch anything,” I say, stuffing my hands in the impractical cardigan pockets.

“Gonna be hard to not touch anything while you’re helping me.”

He hooks his thumbs into his belt loops, tugging the waist of his jeans ever so slightly lower.

“Help?” I squeak. “I couldn’t. I don’t have a clue about any of this.” I flap my hands erratically around the room.

He takes a couple steps closer. “No experience required. C’mon, let me show you a few things.”

“You said show. Not do.”

“It’s more fun to do it.”

His words twist themselves like ribbons. I imagine a couple things that I wouldn’t mind him showing me at all. I’m not naïve enough to think Isaac’s near constant double entendres are accidental. It’s obvious he does it to rile me up. It works like a charm. His blue eyes plead down at me, and I soften alarmingly fast under his persuasion.

I lay my sweater over the back of an antique tufted armchair. Shedding the layer is a relief under the heat of the machinery, lighting, and Isaac’s gaze. Steel-toed work boots give him a boost in height that he doesn’t need. I’m almost giddy looking up at him. When Isaac raises his chin in the table’s direction he was working at before, I follow him.

“This is a table saw.”

I press my lips together.

“Er, sorry if you already knew that.”

I laugh at his discomfort. “No, explain it like I’m five. This is all new to me.”

“Okay, deal. You’re going to make some cuts on these boards for me,” he continues.

“Cuts! I don’t think–”

“Ashlyn, trust me. Please?”

If I could trust him the night we met, surely I could trust him now, so I nod again.

“Safety first.” His face is serious as he grasps my shoulders and turns me to face him. I close my eyes instinctively as clear, plastic safety glasses descend over my face. He’s gentle as he nestles the arms of the glasses behind my ears. A tingle runs through my body until it disappears into the planks beneath my feet. With my eyes closed, I sway. I open them to balance myself. The glasses must be comically large on my face. He opens his palm, orange foam ear plugs inside.

“Now these.”

“Is this really necessary?” I roll my eyes.

In a second I’ll be wearing a hard hat and high vis vest. This is probably the whole reason he invited me out here. See how stupid we can make Ashlyn look. Fun game.

“I always use protection.”

“Good one.” I snatch the earplugs and shove them in my ears.

If I wear these all the time I won’t have to listen to his steady stream of sexual innuendo.

“Are you ready?”

I shrug. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Face the table.”

I swallow and turn, hating the way I obey the order. The table comes up almost to my chest. He reaches for a crank, turns it a few times, and the table drops several inches. Isaac moves behind me, and I can’t stop the shiver that runs up my back at his proximity. Years have gone by since I let a man get so close to me. Now, in a matter of weeks, it seemed like I’m constantly close to one.

He slides a piece of wood over to the blade. “This is a one by six,” he says close to my ear.

The foam earplugs filter out the ambient sounds of the shop. His voice is muffled, but I can still hear the deep tones. It’s like he’s speakinginsidemy head.

---