A Soldier's Valentine

Apparently to get Captain Zach talking, all she needed to do was ask about his craft. “Have you unpacked any of your work?”

“Not yet.”

Ginger glanced toward the men who must have interrupted him while he’d been opening boxes. “What about a name for your store?”

“ZZ Glassworks.”

“Good ring to it.” Ginger nodded. “Do you have a sign?”

He shrugged. “I might etch it on the window or door.”

Ginger scanned the empty window that was exactly like hers and shook her head. “It’ll get lost in your display.”

“My display?”

“Your artwork. An outside sign would be better and easier to spot from the street. You’ll want your window stocked with product to lure customers inside.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Ah, yeah.”

“I know a sign guy in town who’ll give you a good deal.”

He laughed then. A harsh bark of a sound. “Of course you do.”

“What?” She settled her hands on her hips. Did he think she got a kickback or something for referring business? In a small town, shop owners looked out for each other. And recommended a deal if they could.

“Are you always this cheerfully helpful?”

“Pretty much. Are you always this grumpy?”

He chuckled. “Pretty much.” Then he scanned her from head to toe. “You’re taller today.”

She lifted her foot. “It’s the heels.”

“I noticed.” His voice lowered a smidgen, but disapproval shone from his eyes.

What? Didn’t he like high heels? It wasn’t as if he had to wear them. And then it dawned on her that just maybe he liked them a lot, especially on her.

Ginger checked her watch. Almost ten. She had to open. She had to get away from this new sense of awareness between them. “I better get back. Thanks for the tour.”

Walking away, she swung back around. He’d made her forget all about the importance of the upcoming Valentine’s Day contest. No time. “After you’re settled in, we can chat more about your window display and the contest the chamber is sponsoring.”

“Can’t wait.” His voice sounded flat.

Ginger felt her cheeks flare yet again, right along with her ire. The man might not talk much, but he sure got his message across.

Captain Zach did things his way.

She backed up and nearly tripped over another box.

Zach grabbed her arm to steady her.

She did a little growling of her own. Ginger needed to get back to her home base before she made a bigger fool of herself. “Thanks.”

“It’s the heels.” He gave her platforms of black suede a pointed look.

“I found them at a thrift store,” she blurted.

Not that it was any of his business how she spent her money, but she didn’t want her landlord to think she spent frivolously. Maybe because when she was a kid coming home with an expensive treasure she’d found for a song, she’d had to explain her actions. How many times had she played defense to her father’s offense? Her mother had finally warned her not to let Dad see them for fear of an argument.

Ginger escaped through the glass slider, closed it behind her with a soft click and blew out her breath.

What was the deal with Zach Zelinsky?

He sure wasn’t a chatty guy, and that made her wonder why he’d gone into retail. And why’d he make her so nervous with his gruff ways? She wasn’t a clumsy person, but around him she couldn’t keep solid footing. The man was definitely intimidating. And Ginger did not like to be intimated.

* * *

That evening, Zach knocked on the sliding glass door. Ginger had kept it locked throughout the day, and he was glad since he’d been in and out all afternoon. That locked door had kept her few customers from spilling into his space. Several had peered in at him while he’d unloaded boxes, though. Passing his furnace inspections had been the last of the paperwork required before he could finally open his doors. All he needed to do was finish stocking the shelves and then start making new glass.

She walked to the slider and unlocked her side. Opening the door, she peered up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. “Hey.”

“Are you closed?”

She nodded. “Yup. This time of year I’m open Tuesday through Saturday, ten to six.”

“Good hours.” He liked having two days off in row and might as well be open the same times as her.

“I open Mondays, too, starting in May for summer hours. But I’m always closed Sunday.”

“Day of rest?”

“That and church.” She smiled.

He needed to find the right church, but he had time to figure it out. “I’ve unpacked, if you’re still interested.”

He wasn’t being nice. He wanted to see her reaction to his glasswork. Was it good enough? She seemed to know a lot about running a gift shop and the expectations of local customers.

“Absolutely.” Her pretty eyes gleamed. “Do you know how hard it was not to press my nose against this glass door like my customers?”

He chuckled and stepped aside. She’d had two elderly women in her store, and they had indeed pressed their noses on the glass and watched him unpack.

He’d utilized most of the clear shelving that came with the shop but had arranged it differently—out in the open instead of up against the walls, giving the small retail space an artsy feel like the studio where he’d apprenticed and learned the trade.

He watched her closely as she walked around his displays, her slender fingertips gently touching glass ornaments and bowls. She was careful, but thorough. Was she putting him on, looking that interested?

“Wow.” Ginger stopped and stared at one of his few glass sculptures. It was a twisted mass of smoky glass with a dash of red at its center that glowed from the light he’d installed underneath it. “How’d you come up with this?”

He shrugged.