The Quietest Shop on Main (Shops on Main #3)

Chapter 7

7

T hey were here. Skyla’s stomach jumped, and she put a hand on it. She’d worked so hard when she got home. The dinner had been a last minute invitation, and she hadn’t been prepared at all.

Had she missed anything? Would Dalton be okay with coming? Would he be upset that she’d convinced Analiese to come?

Even though she was expecting the knock, Skyla still jumped when it came.

Grandpa snorted. “Careful, Sky. Don’t give too much away.”

Skyla scowled. “Give away what? I’m just making them dinner.” She headed toward the door. “Besides, I wanted you to meet Analiese. I think you’ll like her.”

Grandpa grunted and didn’t say more.

He’d been weak, but in good spirits since getting home, but Skyla was still worried about him. The doctor had declared they couldn’t find any lasting damage from the stroke, but Skyla could see it in how he stood and walked and how much energy he had.

Dalton had been so sweet to offer to take Grandpa out on the boat, but Skyla wouldn’t be comfortable with it until he’d gotten some strength back.

“Hello,” Skyla said as she pulled the door open. “Come on in out of the cold.”

Analiese waltzed in and held up a baking dish. “I brought cake! I have no idea what it’ll taste like, but I followed the directions.”

Skyla smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful. Thank you so much.” She took the offering and turned to Dalton, her heart nearly stopping.

He stood in all his winter gear, presumably from the boat. Boots, waterproof pants, a large coat, and a beanie capped his head. He was already quite a bit bigger than Skyla, but now he looked like a giant. The kind on those reality shows where they followed the fishing boats on the ocean.

“I, uh…” Dalton looked down at his boots and winced. “Sorry. I didn’t get a chance to change.”

“No…it’s…you’re fine,” Skyla finally whispered. She’d once thought Officer Montoya was intimidating. He had nothing on Dalton all dressed up for work.

Dalton quickly tugged the hat off his head, and scrunched it in his hands. It took him from daunting stranger to adorable little boy as his hair fell askew, one side matted to his head and the other sticking straight up.

Grimacing, he ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not really fit for company.”

“Geez, Dalt. Just come in already. It’s freezing out there!” Analiese said.

Skyla blinked and came back to the present. “Yes, please. Come on in. We’re not formal here.”

Dalton started to step in, then paused. “I probably smell like fish.”

Skyla’s fear continued to dissipate. How could such a large man be so cute? “We like seafood,” she responded.

One side of his mouth twitched. “I’m all wet.”

“I have towels.”

“I might track mud in.”

“We’ll leave your boots by the door,” she said, enjoying the little game that had unexpectedly sprung up.

“And if my socks are gross?” Dalton asked.

“You can use Grandpa’s.”

Chuckling, Dalton started to come in again.

“Socks don’t come cheap!” Grandpa wheezed from the kitchen.

Analiese laughed and looked at Skyla. “You were right.” She marched right in. “I do like him.”

Skyla let her go. Those two would be two peas in a pod. She was sure of it. “Let me take your coat,” she told Dalton.

“It’s heavy,” he warned, undoing all the front clasps and zippers.

“Holy cow.” Skyla hefted it up and down a couple times. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I can take it,” Dalton said with a smile.

“No, no. I got it.” Skyla pulled it toward her, out of his hands, but Dalton’s hold must have been stronger than she realized, and her tug pulled him forward and off balance. His hand landed on the wall just behind her head, and their faces came within inches of each other.

“Whoa,” he breathed, pausing as their eyes caught.

Skyla couldn’t look away. Dalton’s face was right. There. His nose was almost touching hers, and his mouth…his mouth was so close that if she leaned forward, they’d be kissing.

Had it been cold outside?

It was steaming in the house.

“Sorry,” he said, his tone husky. They continued to stare at each other, and Dalton didn’t make a move to back up.

Skyla didn’t mind one bit. “It’s my fault,” she squeaked.

One side of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t realize you were so strong.”

“Dalt are you—? Oh.” Analiese coughed. “I’ll just…”

Skyla’s cheeks were on fire. All of her was on fire. She heard more than saw Analiese walk away, but even with her coming in, Dalton still didn’t move for several more seconds.

By the time he backed up, dropping his eyes to the floor, Skyla was positive she was running a fever.

“I’ll just hang this up,” Skyla said, looking everywhere but at Dalton. Her skin didn’t really turn red when she blushed, but she was positive that somehow he would see something if he looked at her right now.

Geez, she was in so much trouble.

“Just leave your boots there, and we’ll go to the kitchen. The food is hot.” Skyla turned and scrambled for the front closet door, slowly breathing out as she hung up the heavy coat.

“What about my pants?”

Skyla froze. “Pants?”

“My overalls,” Dalton explained.

Skyla hung her head and laughed under her breath. She really needed to get herself under control. Looking over her shoulder, she couldn’t miss Dalton’s smirk. “You did that on purpose,” she accused.

Dalton shrugged. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Her jaw dropped, and Skyla’s eyes had to be as wide as dinner plates.

Still grinning, Dalton stepped out of the overalls and held them out to her. “Maybe another hanger?”

Skyla took them, her heart still racing at his comment. This man was going to be the death of her.

And they’d never even been on a date.

He owed Analiese twenty bucks.

All this time, Dalton had just thought Skyla was overly shy and kind. But when he “accidently” let himself get pulled toward her, all the signs were right in front of his eyes.

Her gaze wouldn’t leave his, her breathing grew fast and shallow, and he could have sworn the tips of her ears turned pink.

At one point, she’d even glanced at his mouth.

Skyla Bowen liked Dalton Saunders.

And Dalton Saunders was an utter idiot.

It was time to throw the kid gloves away and actually step up. Dalton could just see the McCoy brothers’ reactions if they ever realized just how dense he’d been. During one of their personal training sessions, Luca would definitely do something to help Dalton be more of a man. And Tate?

Geez, if Tate ever got wind of this, the whole town would know, and Dalton would never hear the end of it.

“It smells good in here,” he said, leaning into Skyla a little as he said it, so the words were said right in her ear.

Almost…he almost felt bad about how wide her eyes were and how much she was stammering to answer him, but Dalton refused to acknowledge the emotion. He was jumping from zero to ten, so it made sense she might be a bit confused. It might take a little getting used to, but she liked him. She would get used to it.

“Thanks,” she whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It isn’t much, but hopefully it’ll help ward off the chill you probably got on the boat.” She started to walk and Dalton worked to hide his smile as he walked behind her, until she stopped and looked at him uncertainly over her shoulder. “And just so you know…you don’t…you don’t smell like fish.”

There was no containing the grin now when Skyla darted for the kitchen, leaving Dalton in the front entryway.

“Yo, bro! You coming?” Analiese called out.

Dalton huffed. At least she hadn’t come looking for him this time. Analiese had the worst timing in the world. “I’m here,” he said as he stepped into the kitchen area. “Mr. Bowen. How are you today?”

The older gentleman was playing ping-pong with his eyes as he went from Skyla to Dalton and back again several times. “You looked like a squid pulled you under.”

Analiese laughed, and Dalton grinned while Skyla did her usual scolding.

“Grandpa, he just got off work,” Skyla called from the stove. “Be nice.”

While Mr. Bowen still looked pale and seemed slightly shaky on his feet, Dalton had easily been able to tell that the man’s mind hadn’t suffered during the stroke. And now that he was raising a challenging eyebrow in Dalton’s direction, he knew something was churning in that sharp brain.

“Your new buddy here,” Dalton said, waving at his sister, “refused to let me change clothes. She was in too much of a hurry to meet the legendary Shakespeare teacher.”

Analiese rolled her eyes.

Both of Mr. Bowen’s eyebrows were up now. He turned his head to Analiese. “Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.”

Analiese’s smile grew, and Dalton saw a side of his sister he hadn’t seen in years.

Her playfulness.

“Thy tongue speaketh flattery,” Analiese shot back.

Dalton frowned. “Is that from Shakespeare?”

Analiese shrugged. “Nah. But it sounded good.”

Mr. Bowen chuckled. “Well done, fair maiden.”

Analiese laughed again. “Guess I better brush up on high school literature if I’m going to keep up with you.”

“To thine own self be true,” Mr. Bowen said before slapping the table. “What good for my heart, but terrible for my taste buds, concoction have you pulled together tonight, my night Sky?”

Dalton felt himself bristle, but he held back. Mr. Bowen was teasing, but immediately, Dalton’s protective instincts had come running at the non-so-veiled insult.

“Someone has to watch out for your heart,” Skyla muttered as she brought a large pot over from the stove. “We have chicken noodle soup and biscuits, plus salad.”

Dalton rushed over to take the pot from her. “I got it,” he said softly, being sure to make eye contact. He grinned when she smiled and looked away. Seriously…how had he missed all this?

Every time her eyes widened or she struggled to respond to his comments, Dalton had taken it as a sign of fear. But it wasn’t fear. Being shy, apparently, didn’t mean she was scared. Now he knew, and he was all in.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Anytime.” Dalton pulled away before someone could make a comment about him and Skyla. She might like him, but she’d still be completely embarrassed if Mr. Bowen or Analiese started teasing.

“Oh my word, that smells good,” Analiese gushed.

His sister was smiling so widely, Dalton was worried her face would split. As he took his seat next to her, his eyes drifted, once again, to Skyla. Was she responsible for the happiness on Liese’s face? How could one little afternoon make such a difference?

After grace, Dalton spooned some hot soup into his mouth. It warmed his body the whole way down, and he couldn’t help but moan in pleasure. “This is delicious, thank you,” he said.

Skyla smiled and ducked her head, tucking that ever present piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re being really nice, but thank you.”

“No, seriously,” Analiese added. “Dalton can cook alright, but this is better than alright.” She narrowed her eyes. “You two should cook together! I’ll bet you’d be great!”

Mr. Bowen snorted. “What kind of fish do you catch, boy?”

Dalton almost laughed at being called a boy. It had been a long time since that term had been used to describe him. “Whatever’s in season. It’s getting cold, so we have salmon and rockfish, sturgeon, of course.”

“Do you have your favorite but-it-got-away story handy?” Soup dribbled down Mr. Bowen’s unshaved chin and Skyla tried to help clean him up, but he growled at her and wiped at his own face.

“Actually, I was with him when he lost it,” Analiese offered, savoring a bite of biscuit. “That sturgeon was a mammoth.”

Dalton couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Skyla long enough to focus on the conversation or to eat. At least, that was the case until his sister elbowed him in the ribs.

Analiese widened her eyes at him in a silent message and tilted her head toward the table. “Go ahead,” she said pointedly. “Tell them about the sturgeon.”

“The sturgeon?” he asked dumbly.

“The huge one you lost that day I was with you.”

Dalton could have smacked himself in the face. “Oh. Right.” He cleared his throat, ignoring Mr. Bowen’s laughter and Skyla’s shushing. “So, the average size of a sturgeon around here is about four feet, but this guy had to have been closer to eight.”

Mr. Bowen was grinning again. “Only eight? Why not more?”

Dalton leaned back in his chair, smiling. “They can get up to twenty. Does that sound better?”

Mr. Bowen slapped a palm to the table. “If you’re gonna tell, tell it right!”

Analiese snickered before taking another bite. “Seriously, Skyla. What is in these biscuits? They’re amazing.”

Skype ducked a little. “They’re kind of a cheater biscuit. They have yeast in them, but don’t require rising like a roll, so they’re fast but fluffy. I’m glad you’re enjoying them.”

“Mmmm…” Analiese closed her eyes as she chewed. “Now we just need some of Mom’s canned blackberry jam on it.”

Dalton humphed his response. Their mom’s jam would have been amazing on these. Liese was right. They were really good.

“Your mom did canning?” Skyla asked.

Analiese nodded. “Yeah. She stayed home with us kids, so when we were at school, she started learning how to do all sorts of homemaker type things. She crocheted, sewed, had a garden.”

“I hated weeding that thing,” Dalton muttered.

Mr. Bowen grunted. “Hard work makes the harvest sweeter.”

Dalton paused with a spoonful of soup halfway to his mouth. “Is that Shakespeare? I don’t recognize it.”

Mr. Bowen pursed his lips and shook his head, then tapped his temple. “Wisdom, from one who’s read too many books.”

“Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful,” Analiese quoted back from Mr. Bowen’s comment earlier.

Mr. Bowen huffed. “If that’s the criteria, then you should never listen to a thing I say.”

The whole table laughed, and Dalton didn’t care that he was a mess or that he carried the scent of the ocean on his skin and clothes. He was with good people, good food, and was warm and comfortable.

Skyla didn’t know what she was in for because the more he got to know her, the more he planned to make sure she was a permanent part of his life. With his newest revelation of her feelings, he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.