Page 17 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Wednesday arrived with unseasonable warmth, the temperature climbing into the low eighties by midafternoon.
Jessica had opted to work from home, ostensibly to prepare for an important client call but primarily to prepare dinner and ensure the house was presentable before Ali arrived to install the cat shelves.
Not that she was concerned about Ali’s opinion of her housekeeping.
It was simply professional courtesy to provide a clean workspace.
The fact that she’d spent an hour that morning reorganizing her bookshelves and replacing the fresh flowers in the entryway had nothing to do with Ali’s impending visit.
Nothing at all.
The client call ended at four-thirty, giving her time to change from her blouse and skirt into something more appropriate for home improvement: dark jeans and a simple blue button-down that her mother would deem too casual for anything but gardening.
Jessica had noticed that Ali seemed more at ease when she dressed less formally, and tonight was about. .. what, exactly?
Friendship, Jessica decided firmly. Just friendship.
She checked on the lasagna. A vegetarian recipe she’d found online, featuring layers of roasted vegetables, three kinds of cheese, and a sauce she’d spent the previous evening perfecting.
It was almost ready for the oven. The salad was prepared, the wine was chilling, and the table was set with Vivian’s mismatched but charming dishes rather than Jessica’s own formal dinnerware.
She was contemplating whether to put her hair up when the doorbell rang, a full twenty minutes before Ali was scheduled to arrive.
Jessica checked the security camera feed on her phone, surprised to find Ali already on her porch, laden with what appeared to be several canvas bags and a toolbox.
“You’re early,” she said as she opened the door, surprised because Ali was usually at least five minutes late.
Ali grinned, unabashed. “My last appointment canceled, and I was already in the neighborhood. Is this a bad time?”
“No, it’s fine. Come in.” Jessica stepped aside, taking one of the bags from Ali’s overloaded arms. “Did you bring your entire workshop?”
“Just the essentials.” Ali set down her toolbox in the entryway, then straightened, pushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I wasn’t sure what kind of shelves would work best in your space, so I brought a few options to show you. It’ll take two trips. I’ve more in the car.”
She was dressed for manual labor in worn jeans and a faded Denver Botanic Gardens T-shirt that had seen better days, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.
Despite the casual attire, or perhaps because of it, she radiated an energy that filled the foyer, making the space seem suddenly smaller.
Jessica caught herself noticing the way the worn fabric of Ali’s shirt clung slightly at her shoulders, revealing the lean strength beneath.
Together they unloaded the remaining shelves and Jessica found herself slowing so she could appreciate the way Ali’s body moved.
What the hell is happening to me? With a sudden understanding, she realized she was becoming one of those leery men she despised!
“I thought we could start in the living room,” Jessica suggested, leading the way and breaking herself from her self-recrimination. “It’s where they congregate most often these days, especially Mr. Darcy.”
“Perfect. Let’s see what works best,” Ali said, casually averting her eyes upward.
For the next half hour, Ali moved through the main floor of the house, assessing walls, measuring spaces, and explaining the different options for cat-friendly verticality. Jessica listened attentively, trying hard to focus on how each suggestion would impact the aesthetics of the rooms.
“I know you’re concerned about the look,” Ali said, seeming to read her thoughts. “But these floating shelves are actually quite elegant. They’ll blend with your decor while giving the cats the vertical territory they need.”
“I trust your judgment,” Jessica said, surprised at how sincerely she meant it. “Where do we start?”
Ali’s face lit up. “Really? Great! Let’s begin with that wall in the living room. It’s perfect. Good sight lines to the front window, easy access from multiple surfaces, and the afternoon sun hits it just right for cat napping.”
As Ali unpacked her tools and materials, Jessica watched with interest. There was something captivating about seeing someone in their element, confidently handling tools and materials with an ease which escaped Jessica.
Ali’s hands, strong and capable—so different from Jessica’s perfectly manicured fingers that mostly knew keyboards and touchscreens.
.. especially over the years since Sarah had left.
“Have you always been handy?” she asked as Ali measured and marked the wall.
“More out of necessity than natural talent,” Ali replied, pencil between her teeth as she adjusted her measuring tape.
“My dad was deployed a lot when I was growing up, so my mom and I learned to handle household repairs ourselves. By the time I was twelve, I could replace a garbage disposal and patch drywall.”
“Impressive.”
“Not really. More like survival skills for a military family.” Ali marked a spot on the wall. “Can you hold this level for me?”
Jessica took the offered tool, holding it steady against the wall while Ali marked drilling points.
They worked together surprisingly well, falling into a rhythm of measurement, marking, and installation.
Ali was patient with instructions, explaining what she was doing without being condescending, and Jessica found herself enjoying the collaborative process.
As Ali leaned in to check the level, her shoulder brushed against Jessica’s arm. The brief contact sent a ripple of awareness through Jessica’s body, and she found herself intensely conscious of the closeness of their bodies.
“So, how was the aftermath of the dinner party?” Ali asked as she drilled pilot holes for the first shelf. If nothing else, it was clear to Jessica that she was the only one getting hot and bothered by their proximity.
“Did your mother send a professional decontamination team?”
“What? Oh!” Jessica laughed despite herself. “No, but she did email me links to three different housekeeping services and an article about toxoplasmosis.”
“Of course she did.” Ali grinned. “What about Vikram? He seemed pretty cool about the whole cat situation.”
“Vikram texted me the next day to say it was the most entertaining family dinner he’d attended in years.” Jessica handed Ali a bracket when she reached for it. “He also asked for your number.”
Ali paused mid-drill, looking up in surprise. “My number? Why?”
“His sister, Nisha, apparently has a Siamese with a love of destroying everything in her path. I told him to go through your office for a professional consultation.”
“Oh.” Ali returned to her drilling, and Jessica thought she detected a hint of... relief, perhaps? “That makes sense.”
“I hope that was alright. I didn’t want to give out your personal contact information without permission.”
“No, that was perfect.” Ali secured the first bracket to the wall. “Can you hand me the level again?”
The first shelf went up smoothly, followed by a second and third in a staggered arrangement that would allow cats to climb from one to the next. As Ali secured the final shelf, Ernest appeared from the kitchen, eyeing their work with curiosity.
“What do you think, Ernest?” Ali asked, kneeling to scratch his chin. “First-class accommodations, right?”
The large orange cat approached the wall cautiously, sniffing at the new installations.
“He might need some encouragement,” Ali said, reaching into one of her bags to produce a small pouch. “Catnip to christen the shelves.”
She sprinkled a small amount on each level, then stepped back. Ernest’s interest visibly increased, and after a moment’s consideration, he made an impressive leap onto the lowest shelf, his purr audible from across the room.
“Success!” Ali declared, high-fiving her and, without thinking, Jessica responded.
The casual contact sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, skin tingling where Ali’s palm had connected with hers.
She fought the urge to pull back too quickly, suddenly aware of how rarely she engaged in such spontaneous physical contact.
It is just a high-five, for heaven’s sake. Not a declaration of undying love.
But when was the last time anyone had high-fived her? The gesture was so unselfconsciously friendly, so Ali.
The memory of Sarah flashed through her mind—Sarah who had always reached for her hand in public, who had accused Jessica of being ashamed of their relationship. Who had thrown up her hands in frustration that final night, saying, “You can’t even bear to be touched outside these four walls.”
If Ali noticed her momentary stiffness, she didn’t comment. “Let’s do the dining room next. I’m thinking a more elaborate setup there, since it has that great bay window.”
By the time they’d installed shelves in the dining room and started on a set in the upstairs hallway, nearly two hours had passed. Jessica was surprised by how engaged she’d been in the process, losing track of time in a way that rarely happened outside of work.
“I should start dinner,” she said, checking her watch. “The lasagna needs to bake for about forty-five minutes.”
“Homemade lasagna?” Ali looked impressed. “I pictured you more as a ‘kale salad delivered from an organic cafe’ kind of person.”
“I do cook, you know. Not for dinner parties though,” Jessica said, only slightly defensively, “and not usually for an audience.”
“Well, I’m honored to be your audience then.” Ali gave a little mock bow. “Need any help?”
“You’ve already done enough with the shelves. Just keep me company in the kitchen if you’d like.”
As they headed downstairs, they were greeted by the sight of Mr. Darcy already testing out the living room shelves, perched regally on the highest level as if it had been installed specifically for him.
“And they say cats are resistant to change,” Ali laughed. “They just want change on their terms.”