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

Chapter 20

20

S kyla’s eyes kept straying to the front door. Her Closed sign was up, and the street lights were on, including the Christmas ones that were starting to pop up all along Main Street.

She set down the display she was working on and slowly walked toward the front window, staring into the night.

It was such a pretty time of year. Goosebumps ran over her skin, and she rubbed her arm with her opposite hand. The air was cold, but the lights and atmosphere was warm. There was just something so nice about the holiday season.

People seemed to smile more. They acted with more kindness. They gave and went out of their way to make sure others were taken care of.

She loved it.

She also loved the man she was currently waiting for. There was no doubt about it now. Her grandfather was slowly declining, and Skyla was slowly falling in love with another man.

Her grandfather had always been her hero, and now Skyla was in some odd sort of limbo. She mourned the idea of her grandfather leaving her, yet wasn’t she doing the same thing?

Taking a deep breath, Skyla turned away from the Main Street and went back to work. She had no idea what time Dalton would be by, but she didn’t want him stuck helping her decorate until midnight. Not that he wouldn’t do it. He positively would, but Skyla didn’t want to take advantage of him either..

Heading toward the stairs to grab another box of decorations, Skyla smiled at the tree standing tall in the corner. It had been really nice not to have to kill herself getting it downstairs.

But how terrible that Dalton had scratched himself as he was helping her. She needed to stock her bandage collection if he was going to keep being her hero.

It hadn’t been until he was halfway down the stairs that Skyla had realized just how bad of an idea it had been to send him up there. She’d assumed his strength would make it easier, but hadn’t counted on the fact that his size would actually make it worse.

“You’ll be lucky if he comes at all tonight,” she muttered to herself, stomping up the stairs while shaking her head. They’d almost gotten in a fight after he got down and that made the guilt ten times heavier.

After a terrible reaction on her part, Dalton had brought down their volume, and Skyla had realized how defensive she’d gotten.

Closing her eyes, she huffed at what a fool she’d been. A man helps her out, and what does she do? Get defensive about it.

It was so wrong.

And so not her usual way of doing things. Seeing Dalton bleeding, on top of the stress she was already struggling with, had somehow brought her to the brink of control, and she’d almost paid a horrible price.

It was a holiday miracle that Dalton had been so cool-headed through it all.

“And now he wants to take care of me ,” Skyla whispered to the dark attic. She paused at the top, letting her eyes adjust before walking farther. She kept things pretty tidy on the second story, but still wasn’t willing to take the chance that something had fallen or shifted when she was unaware.

“You don’t deserve him.” The words were barely given utterance, yet they’d ricocheted through the room like a bellow from a bull.

The truth in the words had her heart aching and her eyes tearing up. Not wanting to allow in more pain, Skyla quickly found the box she’d been searching for and went downstairs, biting her lip to hold the tears at bay.

Just as she got to the bottom of the stairs, there was a knock on the door.

“Dalton,” she breathed. Blowing out a calming breath, she came around the shop and smiled automatically. Whether she deserved him or not, she loved him, and she loved that he wanted to spend time with her.

Life was hard and busy and good and stressful and all the million other things it could possibly be. But Dalton was a bright spot, and for as long as it lasted, she would try to be grateful for it.

“Oh, man,” she said when she unlocked the door. “It’s freezing. Hurry in here so you warm up. I have some leftover cider on the little warmer for you.”

Dalton stomped his feet, as usual, then stepped in and waited for her to lock the door before bending down with the same greeting he always gave her. “I missed you.”

There was no hiding her smile. “I missed you too,” she whispered.

Dalton frowned. “You look…sad. Is everything alright? I just got a text from Liese. John’s happy as a clam with her.”

“I’m fine,” Skyla hurried to assure him. Great. Were her eyes red rimmed? Why couldn’t she keep her emotions in check? She really needed more sleep.

“Did you hurt yourself bringing things down from the attic?” Dalton asked, his eyebrows still furrowed together.

Skyla shook her head and reached up to smooth the wrinkles he was creating on his forehead. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. It was a lovely afternoon, but I’m glad you’re here and excited to decorate together.” She squeezed his bicep, or the best she could through his coat. “You did promise to be my muscle for the night, you know.”

Dalton seemed to relax at her teasing, and Skyla sent a quick prayer of thanks heavenward.

“I’m all yours,” he said seriously. “Do you mind if we eat dinner first? That way I’ll actually have the energy to move things around.”

“Of course.” They went to the back of the store again, where Skyla had a small set of chairs, a bistro table, and her little counter space. It wasn’t much, but it was better than squatting in the aisles between books.

“Just when was this place built?” Dalton asked as they sat down. “I’m guessing you haven’t expanded since John opened it.”

Skyla shook her head and began unbagging the Chinese he brought. “Ooh, orange chicken.” She smelled deeply, smiling. “I love orange chicken.”

Dalton buffed his nails on his sweater, his coat having been set to the side. “I’d like to brag that I knew that, but…it was just a lucky guess.” He shrugged. “I figured it was one of those universally liked foods.”

“You were right.” After a short grace, Skyla grabbed some chopsticks and dug in, Dalton laughing at her enthusiasm.

The next twenty minutes had very little talking, and it was amazing how little they needed to verbalize to enjoy each other’s company.

Their shoulders brushed, their eyes met, and they shared smiles and quiet laughter. When Dalton felt the need to try out his own chopsticks and kept dropping his food, the laughter grew.

“How in the world do you eat rice with two sticks?” Dalton growled, trying again and again, only to get about three grains in his mouth.

“Here.” Skyla set down her own food and gently took his chopsticks. “You have to kind of balance it.” Carefully, Skyla built a decent sized bite, then held it up for Dalton. She almost dropped it when her eyes met his, her mouth inadvertently opened as she went to feed him.

Electricity lit the moment between them, and Skyla’s hand began to shake.

Dalton’s eyes never left hers as he leaned in and ate the rice before it could fall. Slowly, he chewed while Skyla’s hand fell to her lap. “That was good,” he muttered after swallowing. Slowly, he leaned forward, bringing them within a few inches of each other. “But I think I have a way to make it even better.”

Dalton forced himself to wait just a moment longer before closing the distance between them. The longer they dated, the less he wanted to keep his hands to himself.

Everything about Skyla drew him in, from the fruity perfume she wore, to her hair, which never seemed to stay out of her face, to her soft pink lips and wide grayish-green eyes.

If he hadn’t taken some time to get to know her or if he hadn’t seen her in social situations, it would be easy to say he was only attracted to her on a physical level, but that was far from the truth.

His attraction went far deeper, and that was part of why he needed to pull back right now.

He forced himself to separate their mouths, though it went against almost every part of him. “Thank you,” he rasped.

Skyla laughed softly, her dark lashes fanning over her cheek for a moment. “For what?”

“For feeding me and letting me kiss you.” Dalton grinned, trying to lighten the moment so he didn’t give into the desire to kiss her again. “Especially since I probably have fried-rice breath.”

Skyla put a hand over her mouth. “I don’t even want to know what my breath is like after all that chicken.”

Dalton leaned back into his chair and shrugged. “Good thing I love orange chicken, too.” He chuckled when she whacked his arm playfully. “But seriously. Let me finish up, and then we can decorate.” He studied her face. “I think you need a little extra sleep tonight.”

Skyla sighed. “Probably.”

She didn’t say more, but dark half moons were developing with alarming speed under her eyes, and the edge of her mouth drooped more often than not.

Her grandfather, being the sole breadwinner, feeding extra people every night, and dating Dalton had to be wearing on her.

He tried to help where he could, but Skyla had a habit of not telling him what she needed. Her comment that afternoon about not being used to having help had struck him to the core.

Skyla had probably been taking care of her grandparents long before she ever reached adulthood. She had a naturally nurturing personality, but her quiet demeanor meant that she didn’t reach out to help share the burden.

He wanted to lighten her load, to help her to turn to him whenever a need arose. But how could he convince her to do it?

Stuffing one last bite in, Dalton started cleaning up dinner. When Skyla rose to help, he gently pushed on her shoulder. “I’ll get it.” He swallowed. “Remember, I’m taking care of you tonight.”

Skyla smiled and shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

He kissed the top of her head before walking to the garbage. “I want to.” He grinned when Skyla’s smile grew. She liked having someone take care of her. Now if he could just get her to agree to a lifetime of it.

Dalton’s hand froze over the garbage, and he blinked several times. A lifetime? Was he…was he really ready to take that next step? He’d known Skyla for nearly a year, it was true, but they’d only been dating a couple months.

It seemed too soon to be contemplating marriage, and yet…

Dalton shook his head. Even if his mushy side was thinking about it, Skyla wouldn’t be ready, for sure.

“Okay.” He turned and faced her, clapping his hands together. “Where do I use my muscles first?”

Skyla stood up and pursed her lips. “Actually, I don’t have a lot of things that require muscle, but I need to decorate the tree and hang some more garland.” She pointed out a couple of archways in the shop. “I like to hang it over all the thresholds. After that, I just need to set up the Christmas village with some books in the display window, and I’m done.”

Dalton tilted his head. “Are you seriously telling me I don’t have any mistletoe to hang?” He smirked. “Way to crush a guy’s dream.”

Skyla smiled and shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re beautiful.” He held out an arm. “Lead the way.”

Skyla took him to the tree and put her hands on her hips. “I brought down the boxes earlier. We just need to put them on.”

Dalton stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking her back into his chest. “I thought I was supposed to bring things down from the attic.”

Skyla glanced over her shoulder. “It wasn’t heavy. Plus, I didn’t want you getting hurt again.”

He huffed. “A branch scratched me. That’s hardly getting hurt.”

“I don’t like seeing you bleeding,” Skyla whispered.

He gave her a small squeeze. “Maybe when the weather gets warmer, we should consider reworking that stairway. So it’s not as dangerous.” He held his breath when Skyla didn’t answer right away. They hadn’t really talked much into the future, yet. Would she?—?

“I’ll have to take a look at the budget,” Skyla finally responded. “If we have a good holiday season, then we might be able to pull off a renovation.”

“I’m not completely useless,” Dalton teased. “I can keep the cost down.”

She glanced over her shoulder again. “That would be very helpful, thank you.”

He kissed her temple. “Anything for you. Now…ornaments, first?”

Skyla nodded and stepped out of his hold.

While she opened a couple of boxes, Dalton pulled out his phone and turned on a playlist. He refused to admit he’d put together a holiday song list, particularly one with romantic holiday songs, but he’d done it for this exact moment.

Skyla laughed. “Are you setting the mood?”

“Of course.” Dalton held out his arms. “Care to dance?”

Skyla set down the ornament box she’d just retrieved and slowly stepped into his hold. “We’re going to be here all night at this rate,” she said, though her smile gave away her true feelings.

Dalton pulled her in close and pressed his cheek to her hair. “If that’s the case, then it might be the best night of my life,” he said softly.

The shuffling they were doing could barely be called dancing, but Dalton closed his eyes to enjoy the bliss, anyway. Skyla was his. The shop was warm and cozy. The outside world, for the moment, was shut away. There’d never been a more perfect moment.

The peace and quiet wouldn’t last, but the longer he held her, the more Dalton wanted the relationship to endure.

Maybe it was too soon, but he could plan ahead, and when Skyla was ready, Dalton would be there.