Actions Speak Louder (21 page)

“Maybe she doesn’t want to depend on a man again.”  He made a face.  “I’ve met her ex, you know.”

Ethan gave a humorless laugh.  “I can’t get over Gwen giving him a job.”  He shook his head.  “The guy said he’s in real estate, so why’s he working in her store?”

Thomas chuckled.  “Gwen told Holly he has a real flair for design.”

“Well, maybe he’s found his calling,” Ethan said sarcastically.  “I wonder if he treats Gwen like he treated Marcia.”

Thomas gave him a speculative gaze.  “So it bothers you to think of Gwen being mistreated by this guy?”

“It bothers me thinking any women are being mistreated by guys like him.”

“Well, fortunately, Gwen is one tough cookie.  I think she can hold her own.”

“But that’s the thing.  Marcia is one tough cookie too, but somehow, that jerk broke her down.”

“And you want to be the one to lift her back up?”

Ethan sighed again.  “I wish I could.   You know what, I do.  I have feelings for her that I’ve never felt for any woman before.”

“Wow,” Thomas said.  “You’ve got it bad, my friend.”

“Is that how you felt when you met Holly?” he asked.

Thomas nodded.  “Yeah, I guess it was.  I mean, she hadn’t been hurt by some jerk, or worn down by life, but I wanted to make sure that never happened.  I wanted her safe—you know, with me.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Ethan acknowledged.  “I wish I could erase the time Marcia spent with that jerk of an ex.  I wish we’d met first.”

Thomas tilted his head in thought.  “But then, she wouldn’t necessarily be the person she is today.”

“That’s true.”    Both men turned to the front door, when they heard someone knocking.  “That’s probably her,” Ethan said, and crossed the room to open the door.    

Marcia was dressed in her customary overalls and carrying her toolbox.  She nodded a greeting to Thomas.  “Hey, you started without me,” she directed to Ethan.

“Marcia, we’ve got it covered,” he told her tiredly.

She ignored him.  “Point me in the direction you’d like me to go.”

He aimed a finger toward her house.  “Go home.”

“Funny,” she said with a smirk.

“Did you just leave work?” he asked.

“Yep, I stuck around until noon and then headed here.  Angie is minding the store.”

“Did you get lunch?”

“I’m good,” she assured him, and headed to a far wall, where sheets of drywall were propped in an open doorway.  She retrieved a sheet and glanced around.  “Where should I start?”

“We’ll start with lunch,” Ethan said.

“Okay, I’ll head home and make myself a sandwich.  I’d be glad to make you both lunch too.”

“We’re going out,” Ethan said, striding across the room and taking her hand.  “You’re coming to.”

Before she could argue, she found herself sitting between Ethan and Thomas in Ethan’s truck.  Although the vehicle was large, she was pressed against his side.  It was too close for comfort.  She smelled his masculine scent, and continuously felt his thigh bump against hers.  Sitting so close to him, she felt an alien sensation—she felt safe.

She shifted in the seat, attempting to put some distance between them.  It wasn’t easy, since she almost found herself plied against Thomas.  That simply wouldn’t do either.  But she shouldn’t count on Ethan to make her feel … anything.  She was just out of a failed marriage, could barely trust herself, let alone a man, and she just wasn’t ready to give her heart away. 

Her attention was drawn away from her thoughts when Ethan suddenly stomped on the brakes.  Marcia glanced up in time to see a large SUV run a red light and nearly plow into them.  Ethan instinctively reached out, to shield her with his arm. 

Perhaps he would have done that for anyone, but the gesture touched her to her core.  The truck came to a skidding stop, and he quickly turned to her.  “Are you all right?” he asked breathlessly.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“I’m all right over here,” Thomas said, giving his friend a knowing, chagrined look.  He appeared to give his own body the once over.  “Yep, I’m good.  Nothing broken.”

Ethan gave him an impatient glance and then frowning, continued through the intersection and headed for the drive-thru of a nearby fast food restaurant.  After placing their orders, they waited behind a line of cars. 

Marcia sat silently as the men talked about the work they had completed in the house, and conferred about work yet to be done.  Marcia yawned loudly.

“Are we boring you?” Ethan asked with a chuckle.

“No, not at all,” she told him.  “I’m just a little tired.”

He turned toward her in the seat and pinned her with a look.  “Which is why you should probably go home and get some rest.”

She shook her head—her eyes conveying her determination.   “Nope.”

Thomas, beside her, laughed out loud.  Ethan grimaced.  “How’d you get so stubborn?” he directed to Marcia.

She didn’t answer, as their food was passed to them through the open driver’s side window.  Ethan gave the bags to her, and then headed back to his house.  There, Thomas, with his soda in hand, climbed out of the vehicle and turned back to quickly rummage through the sacks.  He pulled out his burger and fries.  “See ya,” he called to the couple, as he strode to his truck.

“Hey!” Ethan said, scrambling from the truck.  “Where are you going?”

“I’m calling it a day,” he said, grinning, as he swung himself into the cab of his truck.

Ethan frowned.  “I thought you were going to stick around and help me finish up the sheet rock…”

He shook his head.  “No, my plan had always been to stick around just long enough for you to buy me lunch.”

“Oh, okay,” Ethan said drolly, giving his brother-in-law a dirty look as he backed out of the driveway.

 Marcia dropped down out of his truck, reaching back to retrieve their food.  She headed into the house, Ethan following behind.  He hurriedly placed a clean drop cloth on the floor and gestured for her to sit.  “Sorry about the primitive accommodations,” he said with an apologetic smile.

She smiled in return as she made herself comfortable on the floor.  He joined her.

“You really don’t need to help out today,” he told her.  “In fact, I’m thinking about calling it a day.”

She frowned.  “It’s still early.”

He sighed, studying her determined face.  “We’ll work a couple of hours, but that’s it.”

They ate their lunch in companionable silence.  Ethan could see that Marcia was exhausted, since she yawned several times.  He didn’t bother suggesting she go home, since he knew it wouldn’t do him any good.  After they had finished lunch, he directed her to the wall he had been working on earlier.  “I need to cut the opening to accommodate the window,” he told her.      

“I’ll get it,” she said agreeably, hurrying to retrieve a tape measure and utility knife. 

Ethan watched in surprise as she quickly and efficiently measured the window and began cutting, creating a perfect opening for it within the sheet of drywall.

“Wow,” he said with admiration.  “Okay, I’ll hold it in place, you screw it in.”

The couple worked steadily for the next couple hours, completing the living room and much of the dining room.  Ethan marveled at the pace they kept, acknowledging that they had developed a rhythm as they worked together.  Several times Marcia seemed to read his mind as she jumped in to complete a task.  He realized they worked together as seamlessly as he did with crew members he’d employed for years.

“That’ll do it for today,” he declared finally, smiling her way.

Marcia seemed startled by the declaration.  “We’re making excellent time.  Shouldn’t we finish up the dining room?”  She glanced around.  “We might even be able to get the taping and mudding done if we keep working.”

He shook his head and was about to speak when Marcia’s cell phone rang.  She gave an apologetic smile as she answered.  She spoke briefly, and then frowning, dropped the phone back into her pocket.  “It turns out I have to go anyway.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.  Everything all right?”

She sighed.  “I hope so.  I guess I’m needed at the store.”

“Thanks for the help today.  I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Marcia laughed lightly.  “Oh, yes, you could have, but I’m glad to help.”

“You’ll also be glad to know we’re even,” he declared.  “You’re all paid up.”

She laughed skeptically.  “Yeah, right.  I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

***

After she had gone, Ethan turned a slow circle within the room.  He and Marcia had made great time, accomplishing a lot in a couple hours time.  They made a great team.  Surely that was significant?

There was something about spending time with her that made him feel serene—calm.  He hadn’t experienced the same feeling with Gwen, or even anything remotely similar.  Gwen was high strung—filled a room with her particular brand of frenetic energy.  Perhaps that’s why she filled rooms—literally—with the latest in home fashion.  She was great with texture, color, and could lend pizzazz to a space.  Her style was flamboyant, daring—whereas he preferred earth tones that lent themselves to warmth and comfort—the very colors Marcia had chosen for her home.

Had he simply outgrown Gwen?  Or had they been mismatched from the get-go?  And perhaps more importantly, were he and Marcia better suited?  With a sigh, he decided he’d have to mull it over, though some inner voice told him—Marcia was the woman for him. 

***

“Is everything all right?” Marcia called to a frowning Angie as she hurried into the store.  She didn’t immediately spot the woman beside her assistant manager, but couldn’t manage to hide her own frown when she did recognize her.

Angie caught her eye, and Marcia could see the sparks igniting in her assistant’s eyes.  “Mrs. Dunneford here is not happy with her mustard yellow paint—
again
,” she enunciated carefully.

Marcia plastered a smile on her face as she turned to the woman, who spoke before she could.

“I don’t want this paint,” she said.  “I’ve tried to tell your clerk that it’s not the same color as the previous paint I ordered.”

Marcia took a deep, shoring breath.  That mustard yellow paint was fast becoming the bane of her existence.  “I assure you, Mrs. Dunneford, that this is the very same paint color you ordered before.”

The woman shook her head vigorously.  “Well, regardless, I’ve changed my mind.  I don’t want it.”

“As I told you before, I can’t refund your money.”

“Well, I’d like a store credit then,” she said angrily. 

Marcia simply shook her head, relieved the woman had already paid for the paint.    “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.  I was very clear to you when you placed the order that since it is a special order, I cannot take it back or make other accommodations for you.”

The woman glared at her for several long seconds, turned, and huffed out of the store, leaving a gallon of the paint behind.  “Should I go after her?” Angie asked, shooting daggers at the now closed door.

Marcia shook her head.  “No, I’m sure she’ll be back.”

Angie stood silently for a moment, but finally heaved a breath.  “Okay, I’m calmer,” she declared, “and I’m sorry to have interrupted you.  She just wouldn’t leave without speaking to you.”

“It’s okay,” she assured her.  “Ethan and I were about done for the afternoon anyway.”

“Did you get much accomplished?” she asked with interest. 

“Yes, we did.  We got quite a bit of the drywall hung.”

“Do any lip locking?” Angie queried, and Marcia gave her an alarmed glance.    “No!”

Angie looked deflated.  “Good grief, Marcia.  You have noticed that Ethan is an exquisite example of rough and rugged masculinity, right?”

“I haven’t noticed anything,” she lied, as she headed for the back of the store.

“Well, then you need glasses!” Angie called to her retreating figure.

Eager to put distance between herself and her assistant, Marcia ducked into the backroom storage area and began counting an order of paint brushes that had been delivered that morning. 

“Like you’re going to get away from me that easy,” Angie announced a moment later.

Marcia hurried out of the storeroom, but paused when she reached the sales floor.  “Wait a minute,” she huffed.  “I’m the boss.  Why am I running from you?”

“Why are you running from Ethan?” Angie asked pointedly, suddenly serious.

Marcia avoided eye contact with her friend for several seconds, as she gathered her thoughts. 
Why was she running from Ethan
?  Was Angie suggesting that Ethan was
chasing
her?  Hardly.  Besides, she’d just spent several hours with him. 

She turned her attention back to Angie, ready to nip any assumptions in the bud, post haste.  To her surprise, Angie grabbed her arm and hauled her to the front window.  “Look!” she commanded under her breath.

“What are we looking at?” Marcia asked confusedly.