Page 10 of When We Were More (Aron Falls #1)

H enry

I stand back and watch as Tommy places brick after brick on the framing around the stove alcove in Matilda’s kitchen.

There’s no question he’s skilled at this.

He’s the company’s best stone mason. I’ve watched him do six courses of bricks now, and he’s taking great care.

He’s been meticulous with each one. So, why did I convince myself that I needed to stay and supervise the project?

It’s clear that Matilda’s great-grandfather put his heart into this room.

With every update or restoration entrusted to our company, especially ones like this century farmhouse, I never take for granted the skill the original craftsmen had.

As a master carpenter, I see the beauty in it.

Especially considering they didn’t have all the equipment and tools modern day brings us.

“Boss, are you gonna stand there and watch me all day? I’m pretty sure I got it by now.”

“I’m heading out soon. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Restoring this brick is going to make this part of the kitchen stunning.”

“Well, you don’t have to babysit me. I promise I’ll do my best work.” I give him a tight smile and nod. I have no doubt he’ll do a great job.

I also know that I’ve been delaying leaving because I’ve been hoping to see Matilda. I tell myself it’s because I need to discuss the backsplash for this area, but that’s only a small part of why I’m still here.

I want to see the saucy brunette. I’m not usually the kind of guy who riles women up, but with her, I can’t seem to stop.

Historically, I’ve always tried to treat women like my dad treated my mom.

Not the unwavering love part. That’s not me.

I’ve never wanted it, and I’ve never felt it.

But I respect women, am upfront about what I am and am not looking for, and generally don’t try to piss people off.

But when Tillie’s mad, her fire shines through, and I can’t get enough of it.

It’s possible I’m pressing her buttons on purpose to get a reaction out of her.

I glance down at my watch, noticing it’s six o’clock.

I need to get home and shower. The kids are with my mom this evening, so there’s no rush there, but I’m pretty dusty from working hard all day.

Nevertheless, I enjoy coming and seeing the progress here, as well as being part of restoring some of the original beauty to this room.

I turn away from Tommy and walk to the stack of trim still off to the side, take a small piece of it in my hand, and trace the curve of it. It’s beautiful craftsmanship, and not easy to achieve such a nice result.

After a few more minutes, Tommy wipes off his spatula and looks up at me.

“It’s probably time that we both get home, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. If you have any questions tomorrow, you can call me, all right?”

Tommy’s response is a mumbled “mmm hmm.” I watch as he gathers his tools and carries them through the door leading to the basement.

I stand there for a minute, staring at the brick.

I wasn’t sure we’d be able to save this framing because of the location of the damaged bricks, but with a little skill and a lot of luck, we were able to salvage it.

Hell, the expression on Tillie’s face when I broached the subject of restoring it versus taking it down and replacing it with something else was enough to make me melt.

I was sure if we had to do the latter, it would break her heart, even though she hadn’t vocalized it.

So, I strategized and decided we should go for it.

I’m glad we did, because it’s going to be gorgeous when done.

After several minutes, Tommy comes back upstairs.

He says goodbye and leaves. I shut off the lights—since Tillie is still not home—and leave through the back door, locking it as I go.

My phone dings, alerting me to a text, and I stop to read it.

Whenever the kids aren’t with me, I always check my messages immediately.

Holden: You on your way? Hayden and I will be there soon.

I take a second to respond, or else he’ll keep texting until I do.

Leaving a job. Be there soon.

That’s my intent. To leave now. But as I’m coming around the corner to the front of the house, I hear it. The most captivating laughter I’ve ever heard.

I stop walking when I see Matilda standing near a man who I’d guess is several years younger than her.

He’s smiling at her, his posture relaxed with one hand tucked in his jeans pocket and the other holding a clipboard.

He’s good-looking, and it grates on me for some reason.

Probably because she’s beaming up at him, or because he’s grinning at her and most definitely has noticed how stunning she is.

Fuck. What is she wearing? Some kind of form-fitting workout pants with a matching long-sleeved top. The outfit does nothing to hide the fact that she’s got the figure of a goddess. She’s holding a matching zip-up jacket, and I wish like hell she’d put it on.

What do you care? You’re not interested.

I walk toward them, peeved when she appears wrapped up enough in whatever this guy says that she doesn’t notice I’m there, even when I’m only a few feet away.

The man pulls his hat off, runs his hand through his hair, and then puts the hat back on…

backward this time, tempting me to roll my eyes.

I’m close to her and see Tillie’s expression change for a second, and there’s no doubt in my mind she finds him attractive.

An emotion I can’t name overcomes me. It’s like a mix of anger and maybe jealousy, which is crazy because I have no reason to feel either right now. And I don’t get jealous. Ever.

I clear my throat, and they both glance over at me. Tillie’s smile fades almost immediately. A small twisting sensation grabs the pit of my stomach. That’s not the reaction I want to elicit from her.

“Oh, hey. You’re still here,” Tillie remarks. Her tone falls flat.

I should stop myself from being a smart ass, but I can’t. “What was your first clue? My huge work truck parked in your drive?”

“Kiss my ass,” she mutters under her breath through a fake smile. I’m guessing she figured I wouldn’t hear. She was wrong.

“Shouldn’t I at least buy you dinner first?” Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush a pretty pink. Junior stands there, watching us, his head tilted, and his eyes narrowed. Tillie shakes her head and turns back to the man.

“Jake, this is Henry. He’s the foreman working on my kitchen remodel. Henry, this is?—”

The kid is staring at me.

“Holy shit, Mr. Aron. It’s an honor to meet you again, sir.”

I internally cringe when, about two seconds later, Tillie’s eyes are bulging and her mouth gapes wide open.

The young man is holding his hand out, so I grasp it and give it a firm shake.

I might squeeze a little tighter than necessary.

I probably aged a decade in Tillie’s eyes when the little shit called me ‘sir.’

When I glance back at Matilda, her expression is no longer one of shock. Now her cheeks are red, and her eyes narrowed and filled with… anger?

The kid must see that I don’t recognize him.

“You came and spoke at my carpentry program over at the community college in Meadow Creek a while back. It was your lecture that made me decide to take additional courses on advanced framing. I’m in the process of trying to find an apprenticeship.

Applied to yours two weeks ago, as a matter of fact. ”

I smile at him. It’s genuine now. I love seeing excitement for the craft in others. And bringing advanced framing techniques into our business was my passion. I’m damn proud of it.

“That’s great. We’ll be looking at the candidates in a few weeks.” Tillie’s glare is focused on the side of my face, but I keep my attention on Jake. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your specific class. How long ago was it?”

“Oh, it was like two years ago. I’m hoping to be well on my way in my career by the time I’m twenty-eight.

I’ve got three years left to hit the target, and this training is my last big hurdle.

” I do the math in my head. He’s twenty-five.

“I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the training through your company.

Tom Lawland, my instructor, says you’re the best company for advanced framing and that you’re also a master carpenter in trim and cab?—”

“Yeah, I’ve been speaking at Tom’s classes for a while now. I enjoy it. Good luck on the applications, too.”

Jake opens his mouth to say something else, but Matilda beats him to it.

“Jake, it looks like the sun is starting to go down. Do you want to do your measurements now?”

Jake looks up at the sky like he’s only now realizing that daylight can play a part in whatever it is he’s out here to do.

“Shoot. You’re right.” His focus is back on Tillie, and I don’t like it.

I swear, if hearts could pop out of people’s eyes like they do in cartoons, they’d be flying all over the place from this kid’s attention on her.

“I won’t be long.” He gives her a smile that I’m betting he doesn’t even realize yet has an effect on women.

Just like that, he takes off jogging toward Tillie’s backyard.

I watch him until he stops by an area of her property that has some fencing.

I can tell, even from this distance, that it needs repair.

I don’t give Tillie a chance to say anything before I walk over to my truck, grab the box with the tile samples I want to show her, and then sit on the porch steps.

She stares at me, eyes narrowed, arms crossed.

She probably thinks that demonstrates her annoyance, but it doesn’t.

When she crosses her arms like that, it draws my focus right to her chest and the soft flesh peeking out of the top of the fitted shirt.

Fuck. Get it together, man.