Protected Hearts

He put two mugs on the bar beside the disposable plates and plastic forks. Certainly no sense of cozy home and hearth. Her guilt multiplied. She should have made this visit earlier.

Climbing onto the bar stool he indicated, she realized at the last moment that Seth would be sitting close beside her rather than across the safe length of a table. Unaccustomed these past years to a male presence, she caught her breath when his arm brushed hers as he sat on the adjoining stool, then scooped out two generous portions of lasagna. He was tall…tall and powerfully built. Her nerves jumped to alert.

“I hope you like the lasagna…most people like my spaghetti sauce. I use lots of fresh vegetables and let it simmer for hours. And I make a really huge vat, enough so that I can freeze some in smaller containers. And, like this time, I make up some lasagna…I have to bring a casserole to a potluck Saturday night, so I’ll use some of it then.”

“Right.”

“I’m sorry. Am I babbling? I babble when I’m…well, when I meet new people.” Men, she added to herself. But none had affected her like this. No doubt it was how close he was. Both beside her now and living in the house next door.

“Don’t apologize. At best I’m not much of a conversationalist. And I don’t know anything about cooking.”

“It’s not usually my favorite subject, either.” She poked her fork into the melted cheese on her lasagna. “Actually, there is something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Wariness tinged his dark eyes.

“Yes. I own a costume and design shop in town, Try It On. That’s the name of the shop, I mean. And I’m thinking of adding on to it. When I first bought the space it seemed more than adequate, but I’m outgrowing it.”

“Business must be good.”

“Yes, actually, it is. But we can barely turn around now. I’ve resisted the inevitable, but I think it’s time I take the plunge.” She met his curious eyes. “Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

He studied her. “Why me?”

“Well, Michael Carlson recommended you.”

“You know him?”

She nodded.

“This is a small town.”

“Yes, but I’ve found that to be a good thing in most ways.”

“Hmm. So tell me about this shop of yours.”

Warming to her favorite subject, Emma described at length her business and the store’s layout. “And my assistant, Tina, is certain we’ll pull in even more business now that I’ve started designing storefront displays. You know, like the first time we met.”

His gaze caught hers and she was sharply reminded of the encounter, that intense vulnerability she’d felt.

He glanced away, picking up his coffee. “When do you want a bid on the work?”

She blinked. “I hadn’t decided.”

“My schedule’s open right now.”

But it probably wouldn’t be for long, she realized, with Michael’s glowing recommendation. If she was going to do this, she needed to do more than wade at the shore. It was time to dive in. “Tomorrow then?”

He met her eyes again and she warmed under his intent gaze. “Tomorrow.”

Chapter Three

Seth arrived early, well before opening. Emma Duvere was his only client. He didn’t need the money, but he did need the work to keep himself busy, to keep his mind occupied with anything other than memories.

Emma was an odd bird. Quiet and thoughtful one moment. Nervous and distracted the next. He wondered if she was that antsy around all men or if he’d struck some agitated chord. Not that it mattered. She needed him for his work skills, not his social ones.

It didn’t take her long to show him around the small shop. She hadn’t exaggerated. The place was crammed to the limit. As he took measurements he understood why. There wasn’t enough square footage, and the available space wasn’t being used to its potential.

He double-checked the reading on his measuring tape. “Are the dressing rooms used frequently?”

Emma nodded. “All the time. Why?”

“They seem cramped, especially for some of the larger costumes.”

“You’re right—it’s a problem. Still, I hate to give up more of the display area.”

“You don’t have to. If we moved the dressing rooms to one side, we could enlarge them and gain display space.”

“That’s a great idea! My displays seem to be shrinking daily.”

“Would you like me to sketch out some plans? I think most of your space could be put to better use.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “You mean change the entire shop?”

“Not in character, just layout. You need more storage—the obvious place to extend is out back. And if we add a delivery entrance to the new storeroom, it will improve the traffic flow.”

“When the UPS man comes, we do have boxes stacked right in the middle of everything,” she mused. “I knew the shop didn’t have a rear entrance when I bought it, but I hadn’t run a retail business before and I wasn’t really thinking about deliveries.”

“The building has character, which attracts customers. I wouldn’t suggest changing that. We can keep the integrity of the building in the addition, do some faux aging and make it look as though it’s always been here.”

She cocked her head. “It sounds as though you’re far more knowledgeable than a remodeling contractor.”

“I’ve worked in design,” he admitted.

She smiled, not a frantic gesture, but an easy smile that lifted her generous lips and softened her expression. “It’s addictive, isn’t it? Design, I mean.”

“In many ways,” he agreed. But not so much that he couldn’t leave it behind.

Emma’s smile faded. “This all sounds wonderful, but will it cost a fortune?”

“Give me a little time to work up the plans and I’ll put some figures together. In the meantime, I’d like you to think about any other changes you’ve wanted to make. It’s more cost-effective to include them at the beginning.”

“You mean I’ll have to figure out everything now?”

He smiled at the panic in that last word. “No. Plans can be flexible. But if I know going in, for example, that I’ll be enlarging a doorway, I won’t have to reframe it later.”

“That makes sense. It just seems so daunting.”

“If you let it be. Once you agree on a vision for the shop, much like the ones you come up with for your costumes, you simply plan it out and stick to the pattern.”