“Lights,” I answered brightly. “December first is right around the corner.”
“Your ladder is blocking the drive.” His frown was severe enough I had no problem spotting it from my vantage point. Tone all impatient, he held a shopping bag in one hand. “I had to circle three times to find a spot for street parking.”
“Sorry about that.” I tried to sound contrite. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you prop it back against my porch?”
“You trapped up there?” The frown deepened.
“Not entirely.” No way was I admitting to him how bleak I’d been feeling. “I was going to break a window.”
Paul muttered something under his breath. “Why didn’t you call someone?”
“Didn’t want to be a bother.” I went with the truth, but I kept it light and breezy.
“Better a bother than turning into an icicle or breaking a leg.” His tone was all pragmatic as he set down his bag and hefted my ladder like it was little more than a sack of potatoes. Damn. I did like watching those muscles work. “Here you go.”
Naturally, Paul didn’t simply set up my ladder and leave, instead he braced it with his meaty hands and staying there as I climbed down.
“Many thanks.” My words came out all breathy because he was right there, much too close, much too spicy smelling. He smelled classic, the same scent as the first boy I’d ever kissed, and damn, that was not the memory to have right now.
“You shouldn’t be doing this alone.” His scolding tone was enough to drive my rogue kissing thoughts away.
“I was fine. This was my first disaster in years of scaling my roof in pursuit of the perfect lighting scheme.” I smiled, but he didn’t return the grin.
“Only takes one slip. I never let my crew work a roof alone.” Paul shook his head like I was some foolish kid. Fair enough, as that was often how I felt around him, despite the similarity in our ages. “Would have figured you’d be gone tonight anyway. Family dinner.”
“I wish.” My voice came out a little too wistful, which wouldn’t do. I forced a laugh. “My family’s scattered to the winds. Mom in Phoenix. Dad in Florida. Both were only children, but there are a few second cousins here and there all across the Eastern Seaboard. None I’m particularly close to. But it’s all right. I had a lovely Friendsgiving for lunch. How about you?”
“Me?” He twisted his mouth.
“Big family?”
“No.” His face shuttered, dark curtain pulled tight, no admittance to whatever private thoughts he was having. “Just me and Jim and some football. Speaking of, I should get back to the late game.”
Reaching down, he picked up his bag. I spied two cans of dog food, a carton of vanilla ice cream, and a frozen turkey dinner. Oh, Paul. My own fridge was stocked with leftovers from Friendsgiving and the pie Cheryl had dropped off earlier because they “accidentally” had too many at her house. No way could I enjoy my bounty knowing he had a microwaved Thanksgiving dinner.
“Thanks again for the rescue. Would you like to come in for some cherry pie? I’ve also got turkey and ham. More than enough to share.”
“Let’s not talk about your lighting schemes right now.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Him immediately assuming I had an ulterior motive had me bristling. I had tried to talk decorating plans for his place several times recently, but he’d put me off each time. In this case, however, I’d simply figured that maybe we didn’t have to both eat alone.
“I wasn’t—”
“Not tonight. Please.” There was a weariness to him that wasn’t usually there, a certain slump to his shoulders. I wanted to rub his tense muscles, an impulse that would likely get me summarily pushed away. And I also wanted to press, see if sharing some food chased some of those clouds in his eyes away, but before I could, a muffled bark sounded from Paul’s house. “I better get in there. Try to keep the driveway clear of all those extension cords. I want to move the truck back in.”
“Sure thing. No problem.” Keeping my decorations out of the way was easy. Trying not to care about whatever was making Paul so lonely was far harder.
Chapter Four
Who has an extra heavy-duty extension cord? We’re getting our decorating on bright and early tomorrow! ~ Jordan Family
Anyone need turkey bones for soup? ~Molly Reed posted to the What’s Up Neighbor app
Paul
I should have said yes to pie. I did love a good cherry pie. But there was nothing I hated more than pity, and Gideon had sympathetic eyes and an almost too-kind voice. I shut him down, same as I had invitations from a couple of crew members to join their family celebrations.
I was terrible company, anyway, and when my phone buzzed partway through eating my microwaved dinner, I almost didn’t answer until I saw Brandon’s number flash on the screen.
“Little bro!” I forced a hearty tone. “Figured you’d be too busy today for a call.”