The door opened, the bell ringing sweetly through the shop. This time it was a customer, so Hope waved farewell at Matt and went to help the woman.
Only, he didn’t leave, or not for good. At one point he headed out the door and she thought the strange visit was over, but before long he was back, coat once again on the hook, light tapping noises coming from the cutting area where he popped up and down like a broken jack-in-the-box. The entire time she pulled embroidery floss from the cupboard and helped her customer gather items for a project, he was there in the background. After the third time she’d forgotten what number thread she was going for, she steadfastly ignored him.
A few more people wandered in, and Hope got busy serving and chatting with the ladies, admiring projects and pictures of completed gifts they’d already mailed off to relatives for the holiday season.
It was over an hour later before she realized she was alone with him in the shop. It was obvious, no matter what she said, he was going to do whatever he pleased.
She wasn’t sure if that pissed her off or if she liked his stubbornness.
After filling a mug with coffee, she brought it over and placed it in front of him. “If you’re planning on staying much longer, you should know I will drape a display quilt over your back.”
Matt stood, pausing to brush his palms against his thighs before picking up the coffee and taking a long swallow. He closed his eyes as he hummed in approval, and she allowed herself one brief fantasy of kissing her way across his firm jawline, tasting his lips.
She snapped her gaze back up to meet his, attempting her most innocent expression possible.
He was grinning. “Am I in your way?”
She shrugged. “Not really, but I still don’t understand what you’re up to. Go home, Matt. If you don’t have chores to do, you certainly don’t need to waste a day off in my shop.”
He moved aside a basket full of patterns for Christmas ornaments and sat on the stool he’d cleared. “Yes, I’ve got some time off today, but I don’t consider it a waste to spend it here.”
Bloody fool. “What the hell is going on? Just tell me.”
“I want to help you.”
“I didn’t ask for help.”
“But you said we were going to be friends.”
Hope opened her mouth to respond and nothing came out. Friends. The night she’d offered that word to him rushed back. Her brain flooded with too many erotic images. Him stripping down, his cock tenting the front of his boxers. She might have had her eyes open a tiny crack as he stripped, and her penance was that now she had a good idea exactly what size equipment he was packing.
The sight of him, the feel of his hard body underneath hers in the tub—all of it rendered her speechless to respond.
Friends?
Good Lord. She was going to die right there in the shop.
He waited, sipping the coffee, one hand resting lightly on his thigh. The way the man filled out a pair of jeans ought to be illegal.
And while she had been the one to propose the friendship business, it had never been intended as anything more than a situation-saving comment. Friends with Matt? Bullshit on that, unless he meant the wave-to-each-other-across-the-street type of friend. That was the only safe kind considering how her body reacted to him.
Hope had to get out of this, and fast.
“Okay, friend, I don’t need any repair work done right now.”
“Fixed your table.”
She reached for the edge instinctively and attempted to move it. Nothing shifted, not even when she used two hands.
His grin got wider.
“Okay, great. Thank you for that—I appreciate it, and I’ll appreciate it even more the next time I have to cut some fabric and don’t have to do an octopus imitation to keep everything vertical.”
He put down his empty cup. “So, what else?”
“For you to fix?”
Matt nodded, his grey eyes taking in the shop. “You having heater problems? I can tweak the settings for you.”
He was not giving up, but neither was she. “I turn down the heat at night to save on my electric bill. It takes a while to warm up, that’s all. The shop is a big space, and with the picture windows in the front, this cold weather doesn’t help.”
“How about a timer? Show me the thermostat and I’ll explain how they work—if you’re trying to save money but want the shop to be comfy first thing in the morning for customers, that’s one way to deal with it.”
She grabbed his empty cup and returned it to the small kitchen counter before taking him to the control panel. While he explained, she fussed with a couple displays, trying to balance this Matt with all the other ones crowding her brain. The staring-with-lust-filled-eyes version had been her favourite, even if his mistake last summer still made her crazy.
Years ago he’d been the older guy coming around the house, taking care of Helen, and by extension, little sis as well. To all of a sudden have that guy back was weird.
In a disheartening although sobering kind of way.
Fine. The friend-of-the-family type was safer. She could put her fantasizing back on the shelf next to her vibrator and leave Matt Coleman firmly in the just-a-guy category in real life. It’s what she’d asked for, right?
“So you want me to install one?”
She scrambled to remember what they were talking about. Thermostats. “If you tell me what to buy, I can bring it in.”
“I have time now—I’ll go grab one.”
Hope nodded slowly. “Fine, let me get you the cash you need.”
He waved it off. “Don’t worry, I’ll—”
Anger bubbled up. She wasn’t even sure where it came from. “I will not take your charity, Matt Coleman.”
He caught her by the arm as she pushed past him toward the front of the store. “You a mind reader now?”
“If you want to help me out that’s one thing, but spending money—”
“I was going to buy the thermostat then give you the receipt, since I have no idea how much it will cost.”
Her annoyance fizzled away like a deflating balloon. Hope shuffled to a stop and stared at the ground. She forced a smile, the edges feeling twisted. “Well, seems I know how to jump to conclusions almost as well as I drive.”
He made his way through to where his coat hung and shrugged it on. “Easy enough mistake.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No problem.” He stopped at the door then turned to face her. “We really are two whacked-out fools, aren’t we?”
There were too many ways to interpret that comment, especially accompanied by his serious expression. She sighed. “Can we blame it on holiday stress? That’s what everyone seems to do these days.”
He stared her down. “Hope, you were right the other day. When you said Helen deserted us both.”
Deserted all right. “She’s not my favourite person in the world, but I try to not dwell on it.”
Matt nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything else, just slipped out the door into the cold December day.
Hope walked to the front display window and watched him cross the street to the hardware store. She had no idea what was going on in his head, but she was dangerously close to making a terrible mistake. A mistake like letting him know that she thought of him more often than a friend should.
And after all the pain Helen had caused, dragging him though another dramatic situation was the last thing she wanted.
She leaned her forehead against the cool glass, the heated air from her lungs fogging the window and slowly blocking her vision. Time for a change of mindset, starting now.
After all these years of pretending, dancing on stage and putting on a show, she should be able to do this. When she’d danced she’d made it seem as if she’d wanted every single man she looked in the eye more passionately than her next breath. This was another sort of illusion. Categorize him as hands-off—or even better, just a casual acquaintance. Make sure everything she said and did shouted that loud and clear.