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

Chapter 21

21

S kyla bit her tongue. Hard. This should have been such a happy time. The house was cozy, there was a delicious smelling candle in the middle of the table, all the people she loved most were in the room, but the topic of conversation was making her nauseous.

“Analiese will come by to bring you the right gear,” Dalton said, leaning back in his seat as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

A tiny spark of frustration was building in Skyla’s chest. Dalton worked so hard to help her. But he didn’t seem to understand how terrified she was to have Grandpa on that boat.

“And then she or Skyla can drive you to the marina,” Dalton continued. He glanced over his shoulder to where Skyla stood at the sink and grinned at her before turning back to the table. “I’ve already rented a wheelchair.” He raised his eyebrows. “Which you promised to use, remember?”

Grandpa grunted. “If I need it,” he argued back.

“Skyla? Did you ever decide if you were staying on the boat?” Dalton asked.

Skyla shook her head. “I can’t. I have things to do at the shop.” She wasn’t going to tell Dalton that they’d spent so much time flirting and dancing the other night that she still had holiday promotions and gift packaging to work on.

Their time together had been wonderful, but it had also put her behind enough that she was scrambling more than ever.

Dalton frowned, staring at her a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay. Looks like it’s just the three of us then.”

Skyla turned back to the sink, working slowly on the dishes from their dinner. She didn’t want to be in on this conversation any more. Dalton kept telling her it would be alright. That he would be by her side. Grandpa, for some insane reason, had decided he wanted to become a fisherman.

None of it made sense.

Grandpa had never mentioned his desire to fish before. Why now? Why when he was already fragile and a small gust of wind might send him to the hospital?

And why was Dalton so easy going about everything? Didn’t he realize just how much Grandpa meant to Skyla? He was the last piece of family she had. Yes, Dalton and Analiese were new pieces of her life and Skyla loved them both, but this was different. Grandpa was the last piece of who Skyla was in her past. He was the last link to her childhood and her mother and her grandmother.

The thought of losing that link was becoming more painful by the day, and the idea of putting Grandpa on a moving boat in the cold of winter just seemed like a recipe for disaster.

She scrubbed harder on the pot she was cleaning, then forced herself to slow down. Maybe she could take extra time washing dishes and not have to be around everyone else tonight.

Skyla needed time to collect her thoughts, and life wasn’t giving her that opportunity. She was overworked and over-worried and overwhelmed and over-tired.

But Christmas was only three weeks away, Grandpa’s trip was tomorrow night, and everyone was counting on her to keep things going.

She jumped when hands slid around her waist.

“Easy,” Dalton cooed in her ear.

As much as she wanted alone time, Skyla couldn’t fight the shiver that ran up her spine from Dalton’s touch and voice.

“What’s the matter?” he whispered.

Skyla didn’t respond right away. What was she supposed to tell him? He might take it personally. She loved Dalton and wanted to help take care of and protect him just like she did for all the people she loved.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her soapy hand. “Nothing,” she finally murmured. “I’m just tired.”

“Are you sure?” Dalton pressed. “It seems like more than that. Are you worried about John going on the trip?”

Skyla opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. What good was it going to do anyone? She’d only start a fight or hurt someone’s feelings, and Skyla absolutely hated doing both.

“I’m sure you and Analiese will take good care of him.”

Dalton sighed, his chest shifting against her back. “Do you want me to stop it?”

Skyla frowned and looked over her shoulder. “I didn’t say that.”

“No, but I feel like you’re not really being truthful with me.” Dalton brushed her hair back. “I feel like you’re just withholding your own feelings, and I don’t want you to do that.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and Skyla quickly turned back to the sink. Sleep. She really needed sleep. That’s all this was. She was so tired she was reacting irrationally. Like when a man says he actually wants to hear what she has to say.

Dalton’s shining armor was showing again, but this time, Skyla wouldn’t take advantage of it.

“No,” she murmured. “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s going to have a good time.” She wiped her shoulder across her cheek to grab a stray tear. “Plus, it’ll give me a little time to get some work done since he’ll be with you.”

Dalton waited a moment before speaking again. Letting go of her waist, he stepped to the side and took the dishes from her. “Why don’t you put up your feet? I’ll do this.”

“I’m fine,” Skyla argued, trying to take the dish and rag back.

Dalton gave her a swift but fierce kiss. “I know you’re fine,” he said quietly, making direct eye contact. “But you don’t have to be attractive to do the dishes.”

Skyla gave him an amused look. “Ridiculous.”

He smirked. “Beautiful.” Jutting his chin toward the table, he urged her again. “Go on. Sit. Heaven knows you’ve earned it ten times over.”

Skyla took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Dalton’s smirk softened into something far more gentle and intimate. “Always,” he said.

Skyla swallowed hard. Why did that single word feel more like a promise than a simple answer?

Or was she looking too hard for a promise?

Were her own feelings influencing what she wanted to hear from Dalton? Was she simply becoming a damsel in distress looking for a way out? It certainly felt like it at times.

Smiling, Skyla went to the table and sat, forcing herself to tune into the playful argument between Analiese and Grandpa. She just needed to take her mind off things. She was being dramatic and overreacting.

Dalton was being his usual helpful self, and Skyla was letting her own situation color it. He’d never said he loved her or wanted anything beyond this moment. She would have to be content with that for now.

And sleep. She could be content with more sleep. If only she knew how to get it.

Skyla was upset.

Dalton glanced over his shoulder, relaxing slightly when he caught her smiling while sitting at the table, but he knew all was not well.

Why wouldn’t she talk to him?

He’d tried to be there to help. But how could he support her when he didn’t know what she was feeling? He grimaced as he set another plate in the dishwasher. How much could he push before he ended up pushing her away?

John grumbled something too low for Dalton to understand, and the table broke out in laughter, bringing down Dalton’s anxiety even more.

It was going to be okay.

He gave Skyla another look. She was yawning; her eyes squeezed shut and her hand over her mouth to be polite. He grinned. The poor woman was exhausted, but getting her to set down her load was a full-time job.

Still…someone had to do it. Why not him?

Picking up speed, he finished the dishes, put the soap in, and came back to the table, drying his hands on a towel. Standing just behind Skyla’s chair, he put a hand on her neck and began to massage the muscles there.

With a soft groan, she let her head fall forward, and Dalton worked the area a little more intensively.

Analiese rolled her eyes, giving Dalton a disgusted look.

He shot a challenging one right back. Much as he loved his sister, she was kinda getting a free ride in this adventure. Sort of, anyway. Truthfully, Dalton wouldn’t have any time with Skyla if it wasn’t for Analiese.

John needed help, and Analiese had been willing to step in.

She might not help much in the kitchen, but Dalton was grateful his sister was willing to spend multiple evenings babysitting an elderly man so Dalton could have time with the granddaughter.

That did not , however, give Analiese the right to make snarky comments about Dalton’s attention to Skyla. He wouldn’t stand for that, familial love or not.

John smirked. “Ah, sleep. Innocent sleep. Sleep that soothes away all our worries. Sleep that puts each day to rest. Sleep that relieves the weary laborer and heals hurt minds. Sleep, the main course in life’s feast, and the most nourishing.”

Dalton blinked. Huh. That was actually…kind of helpful, rather than the sarcastic quotes that John favored.

“If you wanted to go to sleep, all you had to do was say so,” Analiese drawled, folding her arms over her chest.

“Would you rather I said something about guests?” John asked in his gravelly tone. “Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.”

Analiese leaned over the table. “If I’d been here three days, I might take offense to that. I mean…” She smelled her armpit. “I shower. Most days.”

John chuckled and Skyla groaned, but not in a pleasurable way, this time.

“Grandpa,” Skyla scolded. “We invited them.”

“Yes. And now I’m going to bed.” John stood and waved off any help. “I’m about to achieve a lifelong goal tomorrow,” he announced. “I think I can make it to bed myself.”

Dalton rested his hand on Skyla’s shoulder while John shuffled away, disappearing down the hall.

“Welp.” Analiese stood and stretched. “Time and tide wait for no man.” She tilted her head toward the door. “Sorry, Dalt. Time to say goodnight.”

“I think you said that quote wrong,” Dalton joked.

Analiese shrugged and pushed her chair in before walking toward the front of the cottage. “Probably. But it still works. Five minutes, lover boy! Five minutes!”

Skyla slowly stood, but Dalton put a hand on her arm to keep her from walking away. Turning her to face him, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a hug. Dalton closed his eyes, wishing he could infuse some of his hope for their future into her.

She just seemed…less…at the moment. Whether worry or fatigue, he wasn’t sure, because she refused to talk about it, but it really didn’t matter.

Skyla needed someone strong to lean on, and he was trying to help her know he was available.

“Mmm…” She wrapped her arms around his chest and snuggled in. “Thanks for doing the dishes.”

“Thanks for dinner…again,” Dalton whispered, kissing the top of her head. He held her a few more minutes, trying to figure out if he should say something else or let Skyla move at her own pace.

Skyla looked up, resting her chin against his sternum. “Anytime,” she said with a grin.

Dalton’s smile was automatic. “Go to sleep early, huh?” he urged. “Maybe Analiese and I should stop coming by in the evenings.” Guilt punched him in the gut when her eyebrows immediately pulled together. “At least for now. I just…” Dalton sighed and used one hand to run his fingers through her hair. “I’m just worried you’re taking on too much.”

Skyla’s smile was sweet, but more reserved than before, and Dalton’s guilt nearly ate him alive. “I have to make dinner anyway,” she whispered, pulling out of his hold. She rubbed her upper arm with her opposite hand, her face toward the floor. “I’ll be fine. Don’t stop coming on my account.”

“Skyla—”

“One minute!” Analiese shouted from the doorway.

Dalton growled and bit back a curse. He wasn’t the violent kind, but he was ready to do some damage at the moment. “Be there in a minute,” he called to his sister.

“That’s what I said. One minute.”

Dalton closed his eyes and prayed for patience. His eyes shot open when a hand landed softly on his cheek.

“Better not leave her waiting,” Skyla said softly, dropping her hand almost immediately.

Dalton grabbed it and brought it back to his cheek. “I’m here. You know that, right? You’re not alone.”

Skyla nodded, her small smile never wavering. “I know.”

That wasn’t the answer he wanted, but Dalton gave up for the moment. He simply couldn’t win. Taking the hand he was holding, he kissed her palm, then kissed her lips, lingering slightly until he heard her sigh, then forced himself to pull back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered, giving in to one last kiss on her forehead.

If they made it through this crazy holiday season and the struggle with her grandfather, Dalton was going to make sure he never had to say goodbye to Skyla again.

As he walked toward the front door, there was a determined edge to his stride. He didn’t care if it was too fast. He wanted her. He wanted them. And he was going to lose her if they didn’t get their act together.

Take John fishing.

Get through the Christmas rush.

Then sit Skyla down for a long talk about their future and what that was going to look like.

Dalton nodded to himself. Time to put the mushy voice away and bring out the protective caveman. It seemed the only choice left to him.