Page 41 of Making New Plans

“Why’d you hide from me when I saw you in town earlier?”

I sighed. “You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“Would you prefer that I do?”

“No, I guess not. Sometimes I wish I could be that blunt. No worries about offending anyone.”

He faced me with a frown. “Did I offend you?”

I shook my head.

He continued, “Offending people doesn’t exactly win me a lot of friends. As you can see. Tell you what. You can be as blunt as you want with me, and I promise not to be offended.”

I smiled. “You can’t possibly promise that.”

“I can. Because even at your worst, I don’t think you could say something cruel enough to offend me.”

His small smile and gentle words ignited a glow around my heart warmer than the fire in front of me.

“But first, I want to know why you hid from me.”

I picked at the fringe of my wool blanket. “Because I was upset. About you. About what you said. Then embarrassing myself in front of you with the whole hammer thing. And I didn’t expect to see you outside the salon.”

He nodded as if that all made sense and continued to stare into the fire.

Testing his promise, I said, “You’re doing it again.”

He glanced at me. “Doing what?”

“Having an entire conversation in your head without me. You say the bare minimum, but there’s much, much more going on than you say. Like you would say ‘I’m not hungry,’ but then your mind is adding ‘because I ate an innocent bystander for breakfast this morning.’”

He chuckled, a low rumble that had me pulling my blanket tighter around my shoulders. “So?”

“So,” I said in exasperation. “If you decided you ever want to have those conversations out loud with another person, you should.”

“Are you offering?”

I froze, watching the firelight flicker in his eyes that seemed to hold a dozen secrets. “Well, I probably don’t want to know every thought that goes through your head.”

He shifted almost imperceptibly closer. “I have a feeling you’d be interested in a few. There are a few of yours I’d pay money to see.”

I wanted to ask which ones, but my words stuck together in my dry throat. Those light brown eyes were casting some sort of spell over me, robbing me of breath and thought.

His gaze dropped to my mouth then darted back to the fire. “We’re even now. You with the hammer and me almost fainting earlier. Thank you, by the way, for helping me.”

I took a deep breath to calm my frantic heartbeat. This was good, getting back to safer territory. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry the place was such a mess. I thought Sal would’ve taken care of it by now.”

“Was she supposed to?”

“She told me she would. After the funeral.”

He nodded, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees.

After a moment, I pushed my luck. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering.” He paused then tossed a twig into the flames. “I’m wondering why you were the only one to cry at my dad’s funeral.”

Caught off guard, I chewed over my answer. “Your dad wasn’t a nice person. He was extremely difficult to work with when he decided to work at all. And he never had a kind thing to say about anyone. When I was standing there staring at his casket, the thought hit me of how little he’d accomplished in life and everything he’d left broken. I cried for Sal. And for you.”

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