Chapter 40

He’d looked the place over. Now they were sitting unceremoniously, in the middle of the floor, in the showroom.

“It’s more than I thought. But if I work at this full-time, I’d say for a couple of months, barring any contingencies—and there are always emergencies—the place can be ready for spit and polish soon.”

She chomped on the pizza she’d grabbed from next door. Rena really was a magician. She’d only been in the space a couple of months, and it apparently wasn’t permanent. But her stuff was amazing, she did mean things with a blender, and Amy hoped she’d make a go of it, even in stodgy Jack’s Bay. “Well, that’s fine. I didn’t know what the damage would be. But that’s great.” She took a slug of the mango drink Rena also made fresh. “I’ve got enough money to pay you for two months.” She quirked a smile at him. “I know these are luxury accommodations. Can you dig it?”

He grinned at her. She was getting very used to his smile, and…well, she didn’t know what she thought of that.

“I’ll use my sleeping bag, it’ll be good. I figure I’ll set up Ryker right beside me during the night, and in the day, when I’m working, I’ll crate him. I saw some empty crates in the garbage outside that taxidermy shop. I’ll grab one of those, repair it. Then he’ll be safe.”

“Perfect. And I’ll be here during the day too, working with you. Not every day, but this is priority right now.”

He reached into the big bag, pulled out another paper-wrapped piece of pizza, unwrapped it. “What’s this one?”

She smiled. “I figured you for a meat-lover’s slice times a billion. That’s your reward for having finished the veggie one without murdering me. Or dropping it into that dust pile accidentally over there.”

“Thank you.”

“All that’s missing is a Berry Burst, from Emma’s. That’s my fave.”

He chewed, shut his eyes. “Thank the saints, the purveyors of fine meats, and the artist who created this. I think I’ve found something better than sex.”

“That would be a serious pity.” He didn’t respond with a rejoinder, just an intense look from those dark eyes. The energy from him rose abruptly, twisted around her, and suddenly, it was all too inviting.

He put his drink down carefully, and edged himself over beside her. Something in her arched as his gaze skimmed her. She saw the slow query in his eyes and her heartbeat kicked up.

Circling her with his arm, he pressed close to her side. Then he lowered his lips to hers, and as they met, brushed them with his.

The sweet scent of mango still clung to them, and she had an urge to sample it from his lips. She opened to him, and felt a jolt as he opened to her as well. She was distantly aware his breathing had sped up, and she knew the chorus in her body was screaming. They kissed. As it deepened, he cupped the back of her head, explored her mouth. She felt her heart spike as she stretched toward him.

Then they broke apart, and stared at each other.

The awkward moment after an impromptu kiss. What to say?

“Okay. So I was seriously wrong about the pizza.”

And they both grinned.

He sat back, leaning on his arms, stretched out behind him. And totally surprised her with his question. “What’s the big deal for you about this place? Just curious.”

The perfection of what he’d asked her rippled through her.

“It’s smack in the middle of Jack’s Bay, and…I love it here. It’s home. I’ve been elsewhere. Took a program at the U of T, loved Toronto. But this here, it’s home.”

“Because your family’s here?”

She considered. “Partly. But it’s also because everything I love is right here.” She struggled to explain. “The old, the new. I love both. You know?”

He watched her, nodded. And her dream swirled around her.

“I want a place that makes it easy for old-timers to access legal and financial services. And not just them. There are young couples here too, and they’re busy. They don’t have time for a jaunt to Toronto, just to see a lawyer. They need to be able to access someone locally.”

“I see that.”

“But that’s not actually the heart and guts of the operation I envision.”

And for all the world, with all the worry she’d seen on his face—most of the time he looked like he had concerns, batting away in the back of his mind—he looked okay at the moment. Settled. Serene was probably a stretch, but there was an inkling of that.

And while he didn’t say a word out loud, he said it all with his gaze, as he listened intently.

“I want a place where people can come and get money.”

He snorted, the sound echoing in the space. “Well, sign me up.”

“No, I’m serious.”

She caught him looking at her lips for a moment, then forced his gaze back up to her face.

“Sorry,” he said. “Tell me more?”

She searched for a way to communicate her passion. “When I look at what we’ve built, our family, it’s extensive. In our niche, we’re big. And our niche is growing every year, every decade.”

He nodded.

“There’s grit involved. Rock-hard determination. There were lots of times things didn’t work out that Gramps or my parents could have thrown the towel in. Stopped, settled. Gone to work for someone local, or moved to Toronto, let the homestead here become a summer flirtation. They didn’t.”

“I see the family resemblance.”

“Thanks. But my point is, even with all the ‘right stuff’, the persistence, there was one thing that we were lucky to always, somehow, ferret out.”

“Money.”

“Yep. I’ve sat around with my family at night, after a barbecue or a family meal indoors in the middle of winter, when we’re snowbound. Dad’s got a no-tech rule at family get-togethers, and it forces us to interact. He even confiscates Gramma’s iPad, and tells her it’s his rule at his place, and she’s got to comply.”

A faint grin stationed itself on his face, as he apparently saw the picture.

“But what that’s done for us is…the talking. The nonsense discussions, the play. But also, we get into these deep chats that end up meaningful. When the tech is killed, the family troubadour consciousness emerges. And we talk about so much stuff that’s happened in the past, how we feel about it, and our dreams, and why. It just kind of…comes up, when it’s allowed to.”

“Like the special scents from your sump downstairs.”

She grinned, but she was on a roll now, and despite the joke, he was listening. And she savored it.

“In those discussions I’ve learned that when Gramps was in trouble, or when my parents were, despite every hellacious thing they did and every micro-ounce of determination they had, everything still failed. Without a helping hand, without dollars, they’d have gone under. And you know what? They always got the money.”

She nodded vigorously. “They always did. For Gramps, it was a bank manager at the Royal Bank on Spadina that ignored conventions, gave him a loan when he shouldn’t have. Everyone else refused him, hands down. He’d broken his foot, couldn’t work. He couldn’t finance the business on the side, let alone figure out how he’d feed Dad and the rest of the kids. The guy took one look at him, saw the raw desperation in him, and more. Saw the mettle of a man who had dreams and had found himself in a position where he damn well couldn’t feed his family. The crack had begun, and without someone to stop it, it was going to widen. Break.”

She swallowed, pulled in a breath. “He gave him the loan, and just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “He had what he needed to get through the tough time. He was able to feed the family, keep the roof over their heads. He worked on the business, but kept them going, too. I’d like to say Gramps was so brilliant, it never happened again. Our family was never in need again. But it would be a lie. It happened two more major times that I know about. So, you see,” she felt close to choking up and was surprised, but continued. “It’s personal.”

She saw the intensity in his gaze, and he didn’t move, didn’t touch her. But his spirit enveloped her, held her, tight. And something in her relaxed, allowed it. Gave in, and enjoyed it. Felt it, though there was no physical touch. But it was there, just as sure as if he was beside her, arms around her. Maybe more so.

And found, she was quite simply, out of words.

He crumpled up the wrapping paper, shoved it in the brown paper bag. Averted his eyes. “So you want to make sure others get the same help, the same shot, your family did.”

“I do. We’re special, but hell. Everyone’s special. And sometimes, that help is the only thing between a person and ruin, and a shitty existence, or joy. And I pick…”

He finished tidying up. “Joy.”

She nodded, the words still not coming. “Something like that.”

“Amy.”

“Yeah?”

“I think your idea is a good one.”

She sighed. “Well, if you do, so far, you’re the only one. People like it when I tell them about it, but it’s more an It’s A Wonderful Life throwback. As to it actually working out…”

His hand found hers, and his fingers closed around hers. “Don’t let it die. I’ll help. Even if it’s a couple of months down the road and the renos are done and I get a different job, I’ll do what I can, on weekends, evenings. More if I can. You can’t let this die. You just can’t.”

He got it. Her dream. She felt it. Warmth, and a coming-home bubbled through her.

Scrambling to his feet, he extended his hand to her. “And now, come on, Missy. Let’s go. I’ve got a little treat to get you, then we need to see about Ryker. And we’ve got supplies to get.”