Page 22 of Until Joy

“Here, you hold this,” she said as she thrust the box at me. Then she undid her seatbelt. It was a shame. I’d been admiring how the belt had accentuated her bountiful attributes. “Give it back,” she said when she was done. It took a second for me to hear what she’d said. Enough time for her to raise her eyebrow. I’m pretty sure she knew what I’d been staring at.

I handed her the box, then jumped out of my truck, went to her side, and helped her out.

“This looks like new construction.”

“Not so new. It’s five years old. I got it when the woman who owned it had to move for her job. She was in a hurry to sell, so the price was right, and it was in great condition.”

When we got in, Joy immediately headed to the great room. “I love all the windows.”

“That’s what sold me.”

She turned around and licked her bottom lip. “Uhm, how long have you lived here?”

“A little over a year.”

“Hmm.”

“Go ahead and say it. Everybody else has.”

“Your interior style seems kind of minimalistic.”

I threw back my head and laughed. I kept laughing. Being in the military, decorating my living quarters had never been high on my list, and I suppose that had carried through to now. But as I looked at Joy, I wondered if that might change.

She put her hands on her hips. “Really? My observation is that funny?”

“Doll, I’ve had more than a few people over here, and your comment has to be the nicest way to say my empty house is pathetic.”

“For all I know, you’re just picky, and you take a long time to decide what pieces you want for your house.”

I laughed again and put my arm around her shoulders. “I think it’s more likely that I have no idea what to buy and shopping is only one step up from being tied to an anthill and covered in honey.”

Joy started laughing. “That bad, huh?”

“I suppose you’re one of those women who likes to shop.”

“You suppose right. Especially bookstores and kitchen supply stores. I could get lost in there for hours.”

“How about furniture stores?”

“I’ve always gone to thrift stores or Goodwill for furniture,” she admitted as she followed me to the kitchen. “I once went to a furniture store with my mom, but it was only because they were going out of business and the prices were amazing.”

“Where did you live in your old town? Jasper Creek, right?”

“I had an apartment in this old building downtown. On the first level were retail and offices. The second and third floors were apartments. The builders had done a great job making sure that everything was soundproof, so no one in the apartments above the shops upset the shop owners below. I was above Mr. Fortnum. He was the lawyer in town. My apartment had two bedrooms. It was really nice, even with the thrift store furniture, and of course the two pieces from Stadlers.”

Her grin was contagious. “Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Starved. I didn’t eat much for dinner last night in preparation for today’s lunch.”

“What about breakfast this morning?”

“I had coffee and fruit.”

“So basically you're saying you would like anything I put in front of you?” I teased.

She tilted her head. “You do have good odds of me loving your food, that’s true.”

I pulled out oven mitts and opened my oven, the smells wafting out filling the kitchen.