Page 39 of Silver Linings
We make our way out onto the main floor and back towards Hendrix, who is now leaning against the cash wrap with the tray of drinks next to him.
He changed from his normal workday uniform of work pants and a henley to a pair of worn-in denim and a black short sleeveshirt that fits him in a way that makes my skin tighten. As if all of that wasn’t sexy enough, he has a faded Rangers hat on backwards.Backwards. He is clearly trying to torture me. How am I supposed to keep my thoughts pure as the driven snow when he’s hammering around looking likethat?
“Okay, well, this has been fun, but I’ve got a hot date with my wife and the questionable use of a pastry bag.” I stifle a burst of laughter before she bounds over to Hendrix and grabs one of the coffees. “Is this for me?” He nods as she takes a sip and presses up on her toes to pop a friendly kiss to his cheek.
Lucky bitch.
“You kids have fun.” She laces her tone with innuendo, and it’s then I decide shoving her out the door is probably the safest course of action for everyone.
“Goodnight, Holly.” I lightly press on her back, and right as she’s out the door, she turns back and mouthsuse protectionbefore I slam the door in her face.
I take a moment to steel myself and flip the open sign to ‘closed’ and lock the door. The tumble of the mechanism locking into place sends a jolt of awareness through me. We are now alone, with no buffer or threat of interruption.
I turn around and face Hendrix, who is burning a hole through the deadbolt of the door.
“Regretting your decision to help?” I ask in an attempt to ease us back into normal territory.
“No.” He clears his throat.
Maybe he’s unbothered, but I’m crawling out of my skin knowing I’m about to spend the next several hours alone with him. How is it possible to be so drawn to someone while simultaneously wanting to put as much distance between us as possible? Every time I’m around him I get more and more confused, and I have no idea what he’s thinking.
“Earlier today, I started compiling a list of things I want to fix or update. You can let me know what’s realistic and what you’re willing to spend your time on,” I say to break the tension.
“Nothing is off the table.” I meet his gaze and see steel resolve behind his golden eyes.
“Even still, I know this is your spare time, so if there’s ever a day you can’t come in or something about the project that isn’t working for you, just let me know.”
He nods his head in agreement. “Let’s see this list.”
“As you can see,” I gesture throughout the store at all the age-worn bookcases, “the store is stuck in the eighties, and not in anironic but still coolkind of way.”
Hendrix huffs out something between a laugh and a grunt as I step around him to a row of bookcases lining the walls.
“I think the main things to be done are building new bookcases. I don’t think these are salvageable, but you can tell me. I think my other big thing is this.” I point to the staircase leading up to the unused second floor. “Pat never bothered to fix the staircase, so it’s been broken the whole time I’ve worked here. I don’t even know what’s up there, but I’d love to convert it into a cozy reading space that doubles as a place to hold events.” He’s being disturbingly quiet, which hastens me to add, “Of course, all of that can come later, but if we could at least fix it to have access to eventually do something, that would be great.” He nods his understanding and motions for me to keep going, to get all my thoughts out at once, giving me the space to work through my ideas without interruption.
I continue with his encouragement. “I definitely want to repaint everything. I keep reading that a fresh coat of paint is the perfect way to make a big impact quickly. I think the last important thing would be the floors. I don’t think there’s money in the budget to gut and replace them, but maybe we could buff them down and stain them with something more in line with thedirection we’re going. I just want everything to feel fresh and light and happy, somewhere people seek out and feel welcome, at home. You know, like they’re being enveloped in awarm hug.”
He snorts. “Should be easy enough to do.” He says it so simply, as if we’re talking about making break-and-bake cookies and not a renovation.
“Where should we start?” I crane my neck back to look up at him and, damn, I really don’t need to notice this height difference right now.
He looks down at me to answer and is about to say something when he pulls up short and just stares down at me, transfixed. I don’t say anything, unwilling to break the moment we’re having, but fate has other plans. An ambulance rushes past outside with its siren whirring, snapping us back into the present moment.
His eyes flit around my face. “Let’s go look at paint swatches.”
“Yeah, okay,” I gulp out, just a tiny bit breathless. “I’ll look up somewhere to go.”
“Actually, I know just the place.”
eleven
. . .
“I can’t believeI didn’t know this place existed!”
Standing on the threshold of Get Nailed, Silver’s eyes dart all around, unable to settle on a single place to land because there’s too much to take in. We’re in that cave where Aladdin finds the genie’s lamp, except filled with screwdrivers and nails instead of treasure, jammed full floor to ceiling with materials that could fall with one ill-timed sneeze.
“This place must be like porn for you.”
