Ruth Herne - Made to Order Family

Rita laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that we want to surprise you and if you’re here, I’m going to second-guess myself, which will just annoy Liv. So we’re better off if you work out back. That way if we have questions, you’re available—”

“But not in the way.”

“Exactly.” She beamed up at him, tiny laugh lines crinkling the corners of her pretty blue eyes. A wisp of hair fell across her face as she turned, a tiny strand, just big enough to make him want to reach out, smooth it back.

So he did.

The warm expression his touch inspired threw him off guard. Eyes wide, her look swept up, met his, a flash of awareness ping-ponging between them until he broke the connection by dropping his hand. Stepping back.

She breathed deep, in relief or consternation, maybe a combination of the two, then thrust something into his hand. “If you have time, will you read this over? See if it makes sense from a business standpoint and has all the information a loan officer would need?”

Brooks recognized what he held. He smiled in approval, nodded and tried to pretend the whole sparks thing was a glitch. “You did it.”

“I did,” she admitted. She dropped her gaze to the folder, then brought it back to him. “I think it’s good.”

“Then I’m sure it is, but I’d be glad to go over it, offer advice if needed.”

“Thank you, Brooks.”

Her grateful smile melted another chink in his self-imposed armor. He hesitated, wanting to say more, then noticed Liv, Tootsie and Skeeter were all staring at them.

Time to go.

He held the prospectus up, nodded and headed out back. “I’ll be back here until the pizza comes.”

“Pizza?” Tootsie turned toward Rita and Liv as Brooks disappeared into the workrooms.

“Brooks is ordering some for later. Around seven-thirty. And we should be almost done by then.”

Tootsie paled. Her throat convulsed.

Rita angled her head, concerned. “You okay, Toots? You’re not still sick, are you?”

“I’m fine.”

Her words were less than convincing, but Rita understood the need for privacy. She nodded. “Okay, Liv, take it away. What’s first?”

“I need Skeeter to line up all the flowers and wooden animals we have so I can get an idea of height and balance,” Liv instructed.

Rita smiled inside. Liv was a born creator, and this task would keep Skeeter busy for a while and feel as if she was contributing. Great combination.

“And, Mom, I’m going to reverse-paint window images so that they appear to be moving forward from the outside vantage point. That’s going to take me a while, so if you and Tootsie could paint those flowers there, using bright summer tones, by the time they’re dry I should be able to lay the grass mat behind the painted grass stems.”

“Got it.” Rita handed Tootsie a brush. “If we do this in the clean room, we’re out of the way and have more space to work.”

“Perfect,” Toots agreed.

“You girls are okay out here?” Rita hiked a brow to Liv.

“A-okay.” Liv sent Skeeter a reassuring grin. “With Skeets’ help I can get this done fairly quickly. Right, Skeets?”

“Right.”

Rita blessed whatever combination had resulted in a noncombative evening, but was wise enough to keep her comments to herself. “We’ll be right back here if you need us.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Rita grinned at Skeeter, her earnest expression warm and sincere. This was the kid she’d like to see on a more regular basis. Maybe her strategies were working at long last, but Rita had been Skeeter’s mother for a long time. She wouldn’t be banking on it. Not yet, anyway.

“This is wonderful, Rita.”

Brooks’ voice jerked Rita out of her work zone. Her brush slipped and scarlet paint daubed his benchtop, the bright tone a standout against the clear, sealed wood. “Oops.”

His easy grin reassured her. “That’s why everything here is washable. Total necessity.”

His gaze canvassed the painted flowers, perky in their newly enameled finish. “Great effect already.”

Tootsie nodded. “Isn’t it, Boss? Talk about eye-catching.”

“As if you needed to catch any more business.” Rita made the observation as she used a fine-tipped brush to accentuate stem and leaf definition. “This place is hopping on a regular basis.”

“More business is never a bad thing.” Brooks held up her prospectus. “As you pointed out here. This is excellent, Reet.”

“Really?” Warmth spread through her, inspired by that heart-stopping smile.

But Rita had already made ginormous mistakes in the happily-ever-after department, and even though Brooks was a wonderful guy who would be Mr. Right for someone, he held himself just a little apart.

So had Tom.

Brooks liked his solitude.

So had Tom.

Rita had let herself be fooled by Tom’s charm, his brains, his charisma. She’d taken second place to his work, his fun and games, and then his embezzlement schemes.

Nope, she wasn’t looking for romance, not now. Her current efforts were best concentrated on raising her kids, keeping a semblance of order at home and striving to start a new business. That alone made her way too busy to contemplate silly things like fairy-tale endings with a guy who refused to darken the door of a church. While privacy wasn’t a bad thing, Brooks’ need for solitude sent warning signs flashing Do Not Enter!

“There are a couple of points I’d elaborate on a little more.”

“Such as?”

Brooks angled his chin toward their current project. “Let’s not discuss it now. Tomorrow night maybe? After the meeting? You’ve got Wednesday off, right?”

She did, but was surprised he remembered since her schedule changed weekly. Surprised and more than a little pleased. “Yes.”

“Then let’s talk about it after fellowship,” he suggested, his gray eyes thoughtful. “Have you considered where to apply?”

“I have. I’ll bring the list with me and we can go over it together.”

“Good.” He hesitated, his look saying he’d like to linger, his body language saying something else, although with a reluctance Rita didn’t often see. “I’ll head back to the workroom.”

Ah. He wanted to stay, be part of the action. Or maybe direct the action…

No, Rita decided, he just wanted to join in. Work with them. “Bunnies are next on our agenda. You ever painted a bunny, Brooks?”

Did he pale under that weathered skin?

“You’re kidding, right? Rabbits in my window? With the flowers?”

Rita shared a grin with Tootsie. “And birds,” Tootsie quipped. “You’ve read Bambi, Boss, right? All the little forest creatures hopping about, twitterpated.”

“Twitter-what? Never mind.” Brooks ran a big blunt hand through his hair and finished the action by rubbing the back of his neck, his face bemused. “You know where I am if you need me.”

Rita slanted a grin up to him.

The action stopped him. He contemplated her, his gaze a mix of rough and tender, sweet and strong, his eyes warming at her smile before he pulled himself away. He turned back at the door linking the clean room to the workroom. “Pepperoni and sausage?”

“Yum.”

Tootsie nodded, kind of, but Brooks didn’t catch her hesitation.

Rita did.

When Brooks had disappeared into his work area, Rita laid a hand along Tootsie’s arm. “What’s going on, Toots?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Are you still feeling sick?”

“I’m fine.”

Her ducked chin told Rita otherwise. “You’re not. Have you seen a doctor? Seriously, honey, this has been going on too long. You’ve been sick off and on for the better part of a month.”