A Small-Town Reunion

A woman had to appreciate having her very own handyman, especially when he looked and moved like a big, tawny lion, all golden tones and rippling power. She wasn’t fooled by his slow and easy manner—she’d seen him in explosive action on the ball field, twisting to make a dramatic catch, bulleting the ball to the infield or smashing a home run into the stands. And she was no longer taken in by his slouchy Texas twang—she’d heard too many examples of his biting wit and keen intellect.

She’d met Mick nearly four weeks earlier, when Jack and Quinn had arranged an outing to the local minor league park. Tess had played matchmaker, and Addie had gone along with her plans. Since then, she and the ballplayer had shared a handful of casual dates and several sweet, lingering kisses. There might have been more between them, but his team had been on the road a great deal, and they both worked long hours.

Which was a thin and shabby excuse.

Mick offered everything a woman should want: kindness, generosity, a sense of humor, a solid work ethic. So why didn’t Addie want him as much as she should?

She’d told herself, at first, that she didn’t want to become seriously involved with a man who might be leaving Carnelian Cove at the end of the ball season. Now that her two best friends were getting married and settling down, she’d renewed those same goals for herself—with an emphasis on that settling down part. And settling down meant staying here, in the Cove.

But the fact was that she and Mick didn’t generate the right kind of heat, that white-hot passion that fused a couple together and promised to keep their bond toasty for the long haul. Still, she liked him well enough to hope he might make the Cove his home. And she cared for him enough to dream their relationship might deepen, that their friendship could somehow catch on fire and move to the next step.

It could happen. Relationships took a lot of work, at times, and it was only reasonable that some of them might need more of that work in the early stages. She was willing to try. Was Mick?

“A penny for your thoughts,” he said.

“Huh?” Addie blinked, her cheeks warming as she realized she’d been staring at him. “Oh. Well.” She gestured awkwardly at her desk. “I’m not sure I have any pennies to spare.”

The bell over her door signaled a customer, and she turned to greet a woman and her young daughter. Mick quietly slipped behind her counter to take a break at her work bench. He sipped from his can of soda while she answered their questions about mosaic supplies and sold them a kit for assembling a pretty mirror frame.

“Given any more thought to those stained-glass lessons you mentioned?” Mick asked after her customers had left. He’d returned to his project, hooking his tape over the edge of a board to measure for another length of shelving. “I know a couple of people who might be interested in signing up.”

Addie sank into her desk chair and smoothed a hand over her paperwork. “It’s a frustrating situation. I know I’d sell more supplies. And I’d earn some extra money from tuition, of course. But first I’d have to spend some money to get things set up for the class. Money I don’t have to spare right now.”