AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He looked over at her a moment, studying her face. “What are your plans for Christmas?”
“Mine?” she asked. All and any ideas she might have had fled her mind as she stared into his deep blue eyes, now filled with curiosity, concern, and something else that she might speculate would be hope. “Ah, I’m not sure. I haven’t talked with Tom. I mean, with Tamzin out of the picture, I assume we would be spending it here.”
She thought how it might feel. Being there, for Christmas. A Christmas without her dad. It would be her first Christmas in Somerton Lake in a while. She’d made it home one Christmas three years ago but had left after a few days. A rushed, hurried affair that she’d been too jet lagged to remember, really. But that had seemed best at the time. Now, though, it seemed stupid and selfish, and it was time she would never get back. She pushed the thought away. She could start making up for that stupidity with Tom, at least. She glanced over at Ethan. And maybe including one more would help toward making it a new kind of memory.
“Would you consider coming here for Christmas?” she asked.
Suddenly, it seemed important that he accept. An acceptance meant he wanted to be with her. That spending time with her, at Christmas, and especially this Christmas, would be something he would want to do.
A slow smile spread on his face. “I will if you promise I don’t have to cook anything.”
She laughed. “I would never do that. But I will make you assist.”
“Hmm. I think I might be able to handle that.”
Thirty-Six
Fine curls of sawdust clung to Tom’s quilted down vest and dark beanie like snowflakes as he leaned over the clamped section of wood and honed it carefully with the planer, his breath misting the cold air. So focused was he on his work that he hadn’t heard Kate come into the workshop, though the metal door had clanged lightly against the door frame that separated the workshop from the storeroom of the furniture shop. She watched him for a while, his strong fingers gripping the tool, his bent profile catching the backwash of the light from the angled window. She had an itch to photograph him like this. Her brother, artist and craftsman at work.
She’d come here at his request to take photographs of some of his pieces to use for the website, but she realized that she needed pictures of him at work. To show rather than tell that here was a man who took time and care over his creations. She removed her camera bag from her shoulder and set it on the counter. Her pea coat, she decided, would remain firmly buttoned. Whether she still wasn’t used to the cold, or it was the way the workshop trapped the cold in its own special way, penetrating her to the core, she was glad she had on thick socks and her mother’s Fry boots as well as the beanie she’d stuffed on her head, her hair spilling out from under it.
“Kate,” said Tom, looking up. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
He began to set down his tools, but Kate held up a hand. “Wait, don’t stop. I want to get a shot of you at work.”
He grimaced but did as he was told. Over the course of the next half-hour she put him through his paces, until he grew fed up and brought a halt to it.
“You don’t need any more of me, surely,” he said. “That’s enough.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised how appealing pictures of you at work can be,” she said, grinning. “To the potential buyers.”
He gave her a suspicious look.
“Really, Tom. With your tight buns on display, you’ll have all the women in the state, young and old, asking you to make things for them.”
“I don’t what I like less, you saying the word ‘buns’ in reference to my rear, or women looking at them online.”
She laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Especially when the orders come flooding in.”
He snorted. “I don’t know about that. But if it’s enough to get by, that will satisfy me.”
She squeezed his arm. “That won’t be a problem, I’m sure.”
“What won’t be a problem?”
The metal door opened and Ethan entered, followed by Zig and Tracy. Ethan made his way over to Kate, his leather jacket unzipped and showing a thick royal blue wool sweater underneath that only seemed to emphasize his broad frame. A beanie was pulled down low on his head, and though he was wearing his glasses, it didn’t hide the fact that his eyes matched his sweater. He slid an arm along her waist and leaned down to kiss her briefly on the lips. Pleasure washed over her at his touch and attention.
“Pictures of Tom’s buns on his website,” Kate said, mischief in her eyes.
“What?” said Ethan, assuming a mock-scandalized tone.
“Don’t listen to her,” said Tom. “She’s just trying to cause trouble. She’s here to take pictures of a few commissions I finished recently.” He pointed to the far corner where a beautifully crafted maple coffee table with a curving top and strips of walnut inlay stood alongside a burled walnut armoire.
“Wow,” said Tracy walking toward them, her heeled boots clicking across the workshop floor. She wore tights and a short corduroy skirt topped by a fitted parka with a fur hood. Her blonde hair was tipped with blue now, a new style that worked well for her. “You made these? These are seriously cool.”
Zig followed close behind, his tall, wiry frame looking taller in his skinny jeans and sneakers. “They are really impressive. I mean it.” He ran his hand along the coffee table.
“Thanks,” said Tom.
