Читать книгу A Regular Joe - Jennifer Drew - Страница 15

MATTIE SQUATTED ON HER HAUNCHES, then assembled the miniature deacon’s bench. Grabbing the nail gun, she secured the boards in place. While the whack-thump of the gun serenaded her, she reflected on the enjoyable hours she’d spent the previous Sunday, while she and Joe designed drop-leaf tables, storage chests, curio shelves and peg racks for the convalescent home. Using spare lumber from previous projects, leftover paint, and damaged merchandise from the store, she and Joe had created arts and crafts that depicted country life. They had worked side by side for hours on end, chatting about little or nothing, really. They’d just talked, discussed their projects, and got to know each other better.

Joe hadn’t mentioned the Near-Kiss Incident and neither had she. She told herself it was for the best that they had been interrupted. But that incessant little voice kept repeating, You go, girl.

For a full week now, Mattie had worked alongside Joe, who proved to be a dream employee. She had heard the razzing he’d taken from the macho types who happened into town to gawk and taunt the “girlie-man” who had hired on at Hobby Hut.

For the most part Joe ignored the teasing, secure enough in his masculinity that he didn’t feel intimidated by the cowboys and sportsmen who frequented Watering Hole Tavern on the outskirts of town.

Grimacing, Mattie rose from a crouch to work the kinks from her back and legs, then glanced at her watch. It was long past closing time at the store, and she had made good progress on the three projects for customers who purchased her landscape paintings and requested theme shelves to display their folk art and Americana knickknacks. Working with Emerald Pool Green, Footprint Cream and Longjohn Red, Mattie had added colorful, hand-painted designs to the shelves and benches.

She’d managed to fill another lonely Saturday night, she thought glumly.

Her social life stank.

Mattie had offered to buy Joe’s supper after work, but he’d left the store at closing time, commenting that he’d already made plans for the evening. However, he promised he’d start bright and early Sunday on the projects for the nursing home. Mattie wondered if he’d grown tired of her company and lost interest in the kiss that never happened—and probably never would.

Story of her life, actually, she thought as she unplugged the power tools, tapped the lids onto the paint cans, then swept up sawdust. She’d always been one of the guys during her high school and college days. She was the misfit female in woodwork classes who took her projects seriously. No one had been interested in dating a girl who showed the guys up in class through her skills with a saw, drill and can of paint.

Same probably held true with Joe, she mused. Undoubtedly, he had decided to look elsewhere for a hot date. Women had been hovering around the store for a solid week, flirting outrageously, asking his opinions and making purchases, just so he would wait on them, spend a few extra moments with them.

So why was she complaining if Joe had a hot date on Saturday night? Hadn’t she wanted to keep their relationship platonic? Hadn’t she been wishing for a skilled assistant to mind the store while she created new window displays, which usually sold within a few hours of being set up? Hadn’t she craved more spare time to pursue her private craft projects? She was getting what she wanted, and she wasn’t as happy as she thought she’d be. And all because she had developed an infatuation for a man whom she’d labeled as off-limits.

You go, girl.

“Just shut up,” Mattie muttered at that annoying little voice. She was going home to soak in a hot bath, stuff her face with snacks and sprawl in her recliner. Another exciting, fun-filled evening at the Roland homestead.

Feeling immensely sorry for herself, Mattie closed up the shop, piled into her old model car and drove home. An hour later, dressed in an oversize T-shirt that served as a nightgown, flip-flops, and not much else, Mattie stood at her kitchen window, staring at a distant campfire that cast swaying shadows on the trees that lined the creek behind her house.

“Well, damn,” Mattie grumbled as she headed for the back door. She suspected Pops and his cohorts had sneaked away from the nursing home to fish in the creek. Either that or aliens had landed their flying saucer on the far side of the hill and were conducting scientific experiments.

Annoyed, Mattie picked her way down the dirt path and peered around a tree. Sure enough, Pops was tossing his fishing line into the creek with one hand and holding an aluminum can in the other. Damnation, if he upset the chemical balance his doctor and nurses were trying to align, she’d murder him. This nonsense had to stop!

As far as the other old men were concerned, Mattie would threaten to tattle to their families if they didn’t cease these moonlight capers…

Her murderous thoughts scattered like buckshot when she saw Joe Gray rise up from his lounging position near a tree. She knew it was him. His broad shoulders and narrow hips gave him away as he leaned over to retrieve a beer can from the ice chest.

That did it! Mattie was plenty mad. She stalked forward to put a stop to this latest shenanigan. She was royally PO’d, and she didn’t care who knew it.

“All right, party’s over,” she snapped brusquely. “Blast it, Pops!”

Pops clutched his chest and staggered to support himself on the three-pronged cane beside him. “Damn it, Shortcake, what are you trying to do? Give us a collective heart attack?”

“Why not? It’s bound to come sooner or later if you and your friends hang out in this damp night air, chugging beer and munching on high-cholesterol snacks.” Her chest heaved with frustration. “Have the whole bunch of you lost your minds? When the director finds you missing he’ll have a conniption, order you restrained or boot you out, depending on his mood. And you—” She rounded on Joe, gearing up to read him every paragraph of the riot act.

Pops waved his arms in expansive gestures to gain Mattie’s attention before she laid into Joe. “Calm down, Shortcake. We just came down to the creek to try out the new rods and reels Joe bought for us. And this isn’t booze,” he informed her. “It’s sugar-free, decaffeinated fruit juice. See?” He held the aluminum can in front of the lantern so she could read the label. “And besides, that uppity director at Paradise Valley didn’t catch us when we sneaked off last Saturday. So what are the odds that he’ll notice we’re missing when the other patients agreed to cover for us?”

“Last Saturday?” Mattie’s gaze targeted Joe like a heat-seeking missile. “You chauffeured them down here last Saturday, too?”

“Don’t go blaming our pal Joe,” Fred broke in. “We wrestled him to the ground and twisted his arms every which way until he agreed to help us make our getaway. He’s totally innocent, isn’t he, boys?”

Four heads bobbed in agreement.

“Yeah, right,” Mattie said, then smirked. “Like I can see that happening. You boys tackling Joe and manhandling him? Uh-huh, sure. Now gather up your fishing paraphernalia. I’m taking you back to the home.”

“It’s only nine o’clock,” Ralph complained. “We have an hour of freedom before we have to worry about curfew.”

“Tough, you’re AWOL, and we all know it. Pack it up and haul butt!” Mattie ordered succinctly.

Pouting like children, the senior citizens gathered their gear and cast her mutinous glares at irregular intervals. They were making her out to be the villain here, and she didn’t appreciate it one damn bit. She wasn’t backing down, no matter how many times their glares branded her a traitor.

“I’ll get the car,” she announced, whirling around.

“Mattie,” Joe called softly.

“What?” She didn’t do him the courtesy of looking at him.

“Maybe I better take the boys home. Although you look spectacular in that flimsy T-shirt, especially when the lantern light shines through it, I don’t advise parading around town, dressed as you are, with these escapees in tow. People might get the wrong impression.”

Mattie’s face blazed Congo Red. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, Joe,” she chirped.

“You did, all right,” he confirmed, his voice raspy. “You realize, of course, that this is going to affect my perception of you on the job. You may have to fire me for daydreaming.”

Covering herself as best she could, Mattie pivoted to meet Joe’s ornery grin. He was teasing her, and loving every minute of it, she realized. “Jerk,” she flung at him.

“Sex goddess,” he tossed back.

That stopped her cold. Sex goddess? She’d never considered herself any such thing. Furthermore, no man had ever referred to her as such. Obviously Joe was teasing her again. “Very funny. Hardy-har-har. If you’re finished having a laugh at my expense, then you can haul those elderly hoodlums to the home. Plus, I will reimburse you for the refreshments and fishing rods. Catering to my rascally grandfather and his cronies is not part of your job description.”

He cocked a dark brow. “As my employer, do the sacred rules and regulations state that you can tell me how to spend my paycheck?”

“You haven’t received your first paycheck,” she reminded him.

“Yeah so, what’s your point, Ms. Roland?” he smarted off.

Like Pops suggested, it was best that Mattie see his bad side, his good side, and all sides in between. The fact was that his rioting hormones were making him testy. He’d spent a miserable week following company rules, as well as the Regulations According to Mattie, and not touching her, not kissing the breath out of her had put excessive strain on his willpower and his temperament. He wanted. He ached. He tossed and turned half the night.

Now, seeing that glorious mane of raven hair cascading over her shoulders, staring at her shapely feminine physique, which was silhouetted against the lantern light and campfire, took his awareness of her to another dangerous level. Her arousing image was probably going to be plastered on the billboard in his brain for the next week—or ten.

“My point, Mr. Gray,” she growled, “is that these rogue retirees are not your responsibility. They are my family, every blasted one of them. They raised me.”

“So I’ve heard, but I’ve adopted them. They entertain me. They distract me.”

She elevated a perfectly sculpted brow. “Distract you from what, may I ask?”

Joe strode past her to bring up the rear of the procession of senior citizens who were hobbling uphill toward his truck. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Don’t I?” she called after him.

“Take my word for it, boss lady,” he bit off as he disappeared into the shadows.

Exasperated, Mattie smothered the small campfire, then tramped up the path that led to her house. She had no idea why Joe needed a distraction. Was he pining for a lost love? Grieving for a loved one? Getting over a broken marriage? Just because he claimed to be sans wife or girlfriend did not mean that he hadn’t had one or the other in the recent past and that he wasn’t trying to cope with the emptiness in his life.

The more she pondered that possibility, the more she was convinced that Joe had run away from an upsetting situation, or was on the run from himself and tormenting memories. It would explain why he’d shown up in Fox Hollow with little more than a few changes of clothing and no personal possessions.

Now what was she supposed to do? she asked herself as she mounted the back steps. Should she apologize for digging up unpleasant memories when she interrogated him? Should she pretend the conversation hadn’t happened, just like she tried to pretend they hadn’t almost shared a kiss?

Mattie grabbed a glass of water, then plunked into her recliner. The drone of the television provided very little distraction from her thoughts. Damn, there was that word again. Why did Joe need a distraction? Was he battling private demons? Should she offer to listen to his woes?

The roar of an engine and headlights glancing off the windows brought Mattie upright. She set aside her glass and padded to the front door.

What now? Had the Five Musketeers been overtaken before they could sneak in the same window they sneaked out? Had they been evicted from the home?

It only took a moment to recognize Joe’s rattletrap truck and note that he was alone. “Did you get them tucked into bed?” she asked as he strode purposefully toward her porch.

“May I come in?” He didn’t await a reply, just shouldered past her, moved her aside, then closed the door.

He loomed over her, looking more intense and somber than she’d ever seen him. Mattie involuntarily stepped back and attempted to shield herself, because she was still wearing the revealing T-shirt he’d commented on down at the creek.

“First off, I like your grandfather and his cronies. A lot,” Joe declared. “I grew up with my grandfather, and I miss having him around, like in the old days. He’s healthy enough to enjoy an active retirement and he travels, so I don’t see him as much as I used to. So, if I enjoy a substitute grandfather, times five, that’s my business.

“For your information, I got permission to take the gang out for the evening. They don’t know that, of course, because I don’t want to spoil their fun thinking they’ve pulled a fast one on the director and the nursing staff. In fact, I also have permission to take the gang on outings, as long as the joy rides don’t interfere with taking their medication on time. I realize that this leaves you playing the heavy, but that’s the role they’ve come to expect of their honorary, concerned granddaughter.”

Mattie was greatly relieved to hear Joe had gone through the proper channels for these evening outings. She could kick herself for not thinking to ask permission when the breakouts started.

“I’m sorry I came down on you like a semi load of bricks,” she murmured.

“Don’t be, because I’m not finished yet,” he assured her. He took a step closer, his gaze bearing down on her, making her squirm self-consciously. “I’ve decided you need to know what is causing the problem that requires a distraction.”

“If you don’t want to discuss it, I understand,” she bleated, her voice reacting to his overpowering nearness. “Really, Joe, if it’s personal and you aren’t comfortable confiding in me, it’s okay. If you’re recently divorced, or have ended a serious relationship, I know it must be difficult to discuss. Considering that you arrived here with little more than a suitcase of clothes and a clunker truck, I put two and two together. But believe me, I—”

At that point, he barked a laugh, confusing her.

“Is that what you thought?” He raked his fingers through his tousled dark hair. “I guess I did invite that impression, didn’t I? The truth is that I ran away from home, from a job that was bringing me down. I had to get away because I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. Or maybe I didn’t like what I’d become. Whatever the case, leaving that other life behind seemed the only solution. I just needed to be…away.”

That much he could confide in her. As for the rest of it, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he was the high king of woodcraft, who left his tufted throne to regain touch with a company that had ballooned out of proportion. He couldn’t tell her that tonight anyway. Not when he’d come here to straighten out her misconception. The fact of the matter was that he was going berserk because he’d vowed not to touch her—thanks to some stupid rule he’d made in his office, during a momentary lapse in judgment. And it was a dumb rule that he was going to rescind, soon as he returned to corporate headquarters.

Didn’t it stand to reason that people who hired on at Hobby Hut shared mutual interests? Who was he to discourage what might turn out to be a mutually satisfying relationship between business associates? If, however, a relationship interfered with production or caused problems that affected the store, then that was something else entirely. As far as Mattie’s rule of thumb went, then it was up to her to make the choice. Joe had made his decision during the return drive from Paradise Valley.

Joe sighed audibly, then glanced down to see Mattie staring up at him, waiting for him to continue. Damn, she looked so tempting in that ragged T-shirt, her glorious hair tumbling over her shoulders, those expressive violet eyes dominating her pixielike face.

Desire landed a blow below his belt buckle. Nothing new there. Joe had been in a permanent state of arousal for damn near a week. Mattie, however, seemed oblivious that he worked extra hard at maintaining self-control while she was underfoot. It was high time she knew the effect she had on him. If he had to deal with it, maybe she should have to, too.

“You are the problem that requires distraction,” he blurted out.

Her eyes popped. Her jaw sagged on its hinges. She stared at him as if artificial ivy dangled from his ears. “Me?” she peeped. “What did I do?”

“You live, you breathe,” he muttered, annoyed at her because she was so unaware of how attracted he was to her.

She stared quizzically at him, as if trying to decide if he was teasing her again.

“Hell yes, I’m serious,” he answered her unspoken question. “You want me to quit before or after I kiss you? But I definitely plan to kiss you, unless you are totally repelled by the thought. If so, speak up, Mattie.”

She didn’t speak up, didn’t say a word, just smiled at him. Then she looped her arms around the taut muscles on his neck and tilted her face to his.

His hands molded against the trim indentation of her waist and he pulled her against him. His body reacted instantaneously to the feel of her supple curves meshed to his masculine contours. “On three,” he whispered, hypnotized by the sparkle in her eyes. “One, two, three…”

Joe felt her lips part invitingly beneath his. That’s all it took to set him aflame. Need burgeoned, overriding thought. He responded mindlessly, devouring her, savoring her, plundering her mouth until he swore he was about to go into cardiac arrest. His heartbeat went off the charts when he heard her moan, and then she pulled his head down to devour him as thoroughly as he had devoured her.

His hands glided lower, mapping the swell of her hips, her bottom, then ventured up to cup her breasts. He teased the beaded nipples beneath her cotton T-shirt and felt her arch helplessly toward him. When she ground her hips against the hard length of his arousal, he restrained himself from throwing back his head and howling in torment.

“Oh, Mattie,” Joe croaked, pretty sure his voice sounded as if he’d been sucking helium.

He opened his eyes, then stared down at her kiss-swollen lips. All the while, the heat of unappeased passion swamped and buffeted him, egged him on. He slanted his lips over hers and clutched her tightly to him, delivering and receiving a kiss that packed enough wallop to send his senses reeling.

Mattie felt her mind whirling like a pinwheel. Her body sizzled with sensations she couldn’t begin to describe. She’d known she was attracted to Joe. That was a given. But my gracious! She hadn’t expected to feel so completely out of control the moment his lips first touched down on hers, the moment his hands glided over her quivering body, setting fires that burned deep in her very core.

Even now, when he raised his head and came up for breath, she still felt as if her bones were melting into puddles and her skin was turning into steam. She’d never known anything like this, certainly not that one time in college when she allowed sexual curiosity to sweep her away momentarily. She’d realized her mistake immediately afterward. The encounter had left her feeling foolish and ashamed, and she had never allowed another relationship to go beyond casual dating.

This, she decided, was what desire and passion was supposed to feel like—this spontaneous, ungovernable, delicious and wildly disconcerting wave of sensations that left no part of her untouched. Mattie had always regarded herself as an in-control kind of person. But when Joe kissed her, caressed her, she felt helplessly out of control—and didn’t mind that she was.

The fascinating discovery made her bolder, giddy. She draped her arms around his shoulders, marveling at the feel of his body’s reaction to her, feeling empowered by the intimate knowledge that she aroused him.

“Pretty impressive kisses, Mr. Gray,” she said playfully. “What do you say to the best two out of three? We’ll suspend my rules and the king of woodcraft’s regulations for a few minutes. You know, that whole space-out-of-time scenario you mentioned and see how this goes.”

A rakish grin quirked his lips. He was intrigued by her playful sense of humor and aroused because she was asking for more. He trailed his thumb and palms from the underside of her breasts, over the flat plane of her belly to rest possessively on her hips. He felt her shivering reaction, and a ripple of satisfaction streamed through him.

“You nearly gave me a coronary with those first two kisses, Mattie. I’m not sure I can survive another one. If I do survive, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to stop with a kiss and caress. You turn me on, Mattie, in case you don’t know it, and I can’t imagine how you could miss the way my body reacts to you. Are you willing to risk what comes next? We’re talking serious, intimate stuff here, Mattie. Are you ready for that?”

Her smile wavered when sanity crowded past the tantalizing sensations. She admired and respected Joe for giving her a choice, not overwhelming her. And she had no doubt that he could, because he was a devastatingly sensual man who obviously had oodles of experience with intimate relationships. In comparison, she was practically a novice. She was talking years since she’d allowed herself to get caught up in the heat of the moment. But it hadn’t been so long that she hadn’t forgotten that it had turned out badly.

Her arms slowly retreated from his shoulders. Her fingertips lingered to encircle the buttons on his chambray shirt. “You’re probably right…no, you’re exactly right, Joe,” she amended. “We’ve only known each other ten days. And though we’ve spent an enormous amount of time together, it is a little too soon. I don’t do affairs, rarely even have time to date because of my job and obligations to Pops.”

Which was exactly why Joe had called a halt—though his body was screeching at him to go with the flow. He knew Mattie well enough to know she wasn’t into one-nighters. She didn’t feed her sexual desires the way she regularly fed her appetite.

She was not a woman who gave sexual favors heedlessly, or without forethought. In short, she was absolutely, positively nothing like the women in his previous social circle. Joe had too much respect and affection for Mattie to screw up their business and personal relations, just to scratch this itch—maddening though it most certainly was.

Gently he reached over to limn the velvety texture of her lips, the curve of her jaw, the rise of her cheeks. “You’re one of a kind, Mattie,” he murmured huskily.

She forced a smile. “Yeah, I know, that’s a polite way of saying I’m the tomboy next door who gets a bigger kick from power tools than power shopping.”

He didn’t like to hear her put herself down that way, especially when he admired her unique qualities and talents. Joe shook his head in contradiction. “You’re way wrong, sweetheart. You possess amazing gifts and creative skills. Power tools may be the tools of your trade, but it’s what you create, the love and intensity you put into your art and crafts that make you special. You fix things and make them right, whether it’s repairing broken knickknacks or solving problems in your grandfather’s and his friends’ lives. You are caring and generous of heart, and your neighbors and customers come to you for ideas, help and advice. And furthermore, glamour is superficial and short-lived. It rubs off with soap and water and it hangs in a closet. You have inner beauty that runs soul deep.”

Mattie stared at him, amazed that he perceived her as something special when she considered herself unremarkable and had never put forth the effort to make much of her physical assets. But what really hit her where she lived was that Joe didn’t care that she didn’t gussy herself up in attempt to gain attention and impress others. He seemed to appreciate her for who and what she was. She wanted to hug him for that, but, considering their explosive physical reaction to each other, she predicted they’d wind up naked on the living room floor—and things would get totally out of hand, or in hand, in this case.

“There’s something else you should know, Mattie,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her full length against him, nuzzling his chin against the top of her head. “I like who I am when I’m with you. I had to get away from the life I was living because I wasn’t sure if I was liked for myself anymore. You helped me find the person who got lost somewhere along the way. I enjoy being a part of your life. If the intimacy is too much for you to handle, then I’ll suffer the raging hormones. I’ll leave it totally up to you to let me know if, and when, you’re ready to take the intimate step.”

Willfully, Joe set her away from him, though he preferred to hold her, to absorb her into him. He glanced over her head to notice several large paintings, surrounded and accentuated by curio shelves, a plant stand, deacon’s bench, and Shaker-style reading table. Studying the interior decor of her home was the distraction he needed to keep himself from doing something crazy—like tossing good sense to the four winds and succumbing to the unruly urges of his body.

“Damn, woman, do you know how talented and gifted you are?” he said as he strode up to the painting that had reached across the room to draw him closer. “You put so much life, detail and color into your artwork that it grabs hold and won’t let go.”

Joe forced himself to move to the next landscape painting that depicted the old wooden bridge south of town that he’d noticed while cruising with the Roland Gang. Mattie’s artwork transported him to the scenic location, filled him with a sense of peace. It dawned on him while he appraised the third painting that Mattie’s artwork depicted all those safe, serene havens where a person might go to achieve a sense of inner tranquillity. When she added memorabilia and collectibles to the surrounding shelves and tables, the entire wall became a peaceful sanctuary of sorts.

Lord, what a creative, artistic knack she had. She always managed to come up with just the right combinations of arts and crafts. Oh, how he’d love to have her in the creative design department of Hobby Hut Enterprises. She was a font of unique ideas.

“Joe, would you like a cup of hot chocolate? I get the feeling you’ll be wanting the whole tour of my arts and crafts, considering how fascinated you seem to be with the living room walls.” Mattie was enormously pleased and proud that Joe appreciated and admired her art—and said so.

“Cocoa would be great, thanks,” he said without glancing at her, so intent was he on the seaside painting that hung above boat-shaped shelves filled with hand-painted knickknacks. “When did you find time to do these detailed paintings?”

“It’s been several months since I’ve worked on time-consuming paintings like these. The store monopolizes my time, and customized jobs for clients fill up my evenings. Running back and forth to check on Pops takes up the remainder of my spare time. I keep thinking the custom projects will slow down, but word of mouth appears to be promoting my work, and clients keep showing up with requests.”

While Mattie ambled into the kitchen to mix and heat the hot chocolate, Joe went from one wall to the next, mesmerized, fascinated. Mattie’s home was a veritable showcase of art and crafts that gave the place a personality all its own. Subtle, understated themes were carried out in each display. But it was the painting hanging above her bed, bookended by curio shelves, that sucker-punched him.

Children, laughter etched in careful detail on their faces, played in the shade of a sprawling oak tree. In the background was the depiction of an old clapboard homestead, barn and outbuildings. A young couple was cozied up on the porch swing, watching contentedly while their children played on the lawn.

Joe stood there, motionless, feeling himself drawn into the circle of the loving, close-knit family he’d never had—and probably never would if he remained on this same course in his corporate world. He felt as if he was falling into the artist’s unspoken dream of a simple life, surrounded by a caring family.

Suddenly Joe wanted to be there, sitting on the swing, watching his children, cuddling up with his wife. He wanted it all—the good life—not the executive suite, surrounded by yes-men and -woman who kept telling him what they thought he wanted to hear. He wanted honesty, true friendships, the opportunity to create with his hands as Mattie did. Love. He wanted that most of all. To love and be loved. To matter, to be wanted and needed. To make a difference…

Feelings, deep and intense and sentimental, bombarded him with the force of tornadic winds. He staggered, realizing how empty and materialistic his life had become. Mattie’s life was full, and complex, because of her dedication to customers, friends and to Pops. Yet, he realized that on some level this painting depicted what Mattie needed to complete her life. She filled her time with substitutes for love, but this painting was her elusive dream.

“Joe, the hot chocolate is ready.”

He pivoted to see her smiling at him, and he just couldn’t bear to be alone with her until he pulled himself together, got these spinning emotions under control. If he didn’t leave now, the feelings squeezing at his heart, and this abrupt sense of desperation, were going to overpower him. He might do something stupid—like appease the sense of vulnerability that had overcome him by seducing Mattie, right here, right this minute. He just couldn’t do that to her, not after he promised he would give her time to make her choice.

“I gotta go,” he said as he whizzed past her, refusing to glance at her.

“Joe? What’s wrong?” she called as he made fast tracks toward the front door. “Are you feeling okay?”

“No, definitely not.” He was feeling too much, too fast, too intensely…and it scared the hell out of him. He had to sit himself down and think. He would go to his apartment, park himself in front of that gigantic mural of towering pines and sky-scraping mountains, and stare at them until he pulled himself together.

“Joe?”

Mattie’s shoulders slumped when the door closed on his heels. Damn, he’d been in a strange mood. Curious, Mattie retraced her steps to the bedroom and stood where he’d stood, peering at the painting of an old homestead and family. Is that what had shaken him up?

“Why on earth…?” Mattie’s voice evaporated when she remembered what had compelled her to paint this picture. This was the family she decided she was never going to have, after she gave up on meeting the man of her dreams, a man who shared her need and desire for a loving family, shared her appreciation for art and crafts.

Had this painting reminded Joe of what he didn’t have?

Mattie couldn’t answer that question, because Joe had only confided bits and pieces of his past to her. Oh yes, he told her that his parents had taken off, much as hers had. Told her that his grandparents had raised him. But she didn’t know where he’d worked during the years in between. Didn’t know who had come and gone and influenced his life. Obviously something was bothering him, something he hadn’t confided in her.

“Give it up, Mattie. Dr. Freud you’re not,” she told herself as she ambled to the living room to sip the two cups of hot chocolate. “This is your life, and you liked it well enough until Joe showed up. Just be thankful for what you have and don’t dwell on what you don’t have.”

Having given herself that sound advice, Mattie flicked on the TV news broadcast and lounged in her chair.

There was no sense wasting time trying to figure out Joe, when she couldn’t even diagnose what caused this restless, edgy feeling that was thrumming through her. Must be the caffeine in two cups of cocoa, she tried to convince herself. But deep down, Mattie had the unshakable feeling that the affliction ailing her went by the name of Joe Gray. She was becoming emotionally involved with him, whether that was a good idea or not. She sensed that he was only going to be a temporary resident in Fox Hollow, considering what he’d told her tonight. If she let herself fall in love with the man she would get her naive heart broken.

Take a few risks, Shortcake. You’ll always regret the opportunities missed.

Mattie vaulted to her feet, shut off the TV, the lights, then went to bed. The last thing she needed right now was Pops’s devil-may-care philosophies spinning in her head. What she needed most of all was a good night’s sleep.