A Regular Joe. Jennifer Drew
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less than honorable masculine-oriented reasons, Joe wanted to hug the stuffing out of this little carpenter’s elf. A month in Mattie’s company and Joe was reasonably certain that he’d recapture his lost enthusiasm.
The chime above the front door heralded the arrival of another customer. Mattie smiled up at him, displaying the cute dimple in her left cheek. “You wanna handle that? I need to measure and mark another project this morning. If you want, you can make the cuts, since you look as if you’re eager to get your mitts on my power tools.”
“My pleasure,” he said, then wheeled around and strode toward the front of the store, a renewed spring in his steps.
Mattie watched her new employee depart, her gaze magnetically drawn to his six-foot-one-inch, powerfully built physique. Her artist’s eye approved of the looks of her employee. Joe Gray was definitely the answer to a prayer, and she couldn’t believe her good fortune. She had received the directive from corporate headquarters, indicating that she could hire a full-time staff member. And wham! Joe Gray showed up out of the blue.
It was almost as if fate had dealt her a winning hand. She needed someone responsible to mind the store so she could devote time to special projects requested by customers. She also needed someone to rent the efficiency apartment so she’d have extra money to pay her grandfather’s expenses at the convalescent home.
Man, oh man, what a perfect day this was turning out to be! Mattie had happened onto an employee who shared her love of art and woodcraft, someone eager to tackle the hands-on projects, someone who saw this business as more than a job that paid rent and put food on the table, someone whose appealing, dynamic presence put a quick charge on her own feminine battery…
Mattie’s thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt. Good heavens, what was she thinking? Joe Gray, as attractive and appealing to the eye as he was, was off-limits. She was his employer and she couldn’t, wouldn’t, jeopardize their working relationship. Although Joe was the first man to come along since her college years to inspire arousing feelings, she couldn’t possibly allow herself to form an interest in him. That would be unethical. Probably even went against company policy, if she sat herself down to read the fine print in her managerial contract.
No, the head honcho, who sat on his duff on his velvet throne at corporate headquarters, would undoubtedly frown on a personal relationship developing between his store manager and an employee. Mr. Higher than the Almighty head honcho would not approve of her feminine admiration for Joe Gray.
“Strictly business, and you better not forget that,” Mattie told herself as she grabbed the tape measure to mark the lumber. It didn’t matter that she was mesmerized by Joe’s whiskey-colored eyes and dark hair, that his good looks and masculine scent inspired basal reactions. She was his boss, and he was her hired assistant and never the twain shall meet, as the saying went. Who ever made up that saying, anyway? Well, she had to strive for a pleasant but ethical working situation, a mutual love for hobbies and crafts. Anything else was out of the question.
Too bad, really, she mused as she designed the new curio shelf. She was thirty years old, and her biological clock was ticking. She wanted a family, wanted children who would not be raised and abandoned the way she had been. If not for her beloved grandfather, there was no telling what would have become of Mattie. Bernard Roland had taken her in, shared what little worldly possessions he had with her, put a roof over her head, placed food on the table, and instilled his love for creating with his hands. True, he had inadvertently turned her into a hopeless tomboy who would rather wield saws, drills and create unique woodcrafts than power shop. Yet, she was content with her life. Well, except for the fact that managing the store, teaching a class in art during the winter at the local vo-tech, and working on special projects prevented her from having time to enjoy any kind of social life whatsoever.
“Stop whining, Roland,” Mattie muttered as she laid out the one-by-six board for Joe to cut. “And don’t get any ridiculous ideas where Joe is concerned. You can’t be anything but friends.”
2
WHAT A DAY HE’D HAD! Joe thought as he ambled down the street toward his rattletrap truck. He’d manned saws, routers and drills to his heart’s content, then waited on customers and familiarized himself with the layout of the store. He had thoroughly enjoyed himself, and the hours had whizzed by at amazing speed.
Joe also gave Mattie Roland high marks for her rapport with customers. Everybody in Fox Hollow adored her. He’d heard her praises sung by every woman who entered the store.
Joe grinned, remembering how he’d been given the third degree by female customers he’d waited on. Everyone wanted to know where he was from, when he’d hired on and where he was staying. He was invited to a church supper and community bazaar by several customers. Typical small-town activities that he wouldn’t mind attending if time allowed.
He had artfully dodged a few personal questions by offering half-truths so he wouldn’t blow his cover. As far as anyone in town knew, he was just a regular Joe who liked the looks of this town, and the surrounding area, and decided to make a life for himself here.
Joe applied the brakes and slowed down so Mattie could pull out in front of him and lead the way to her house. He hadn’t quite figured out what had happened between them after he exited the workroom to wait on his first customer this morning. Mattie, friendly and outgoing though she had been when he arrived, had become standoffish and reserved around him. What the hell had happened? They’d hit it off big time. Then suddenly, she was careful not to invade his personal space, nor he hers.
While she was giving directions for cutting and constructing the customized knickknack shelf, she had maintained a noticeable distance from him. He hadn’t wanted distance. He’d wanted to work shoulder to shoulder with her during the lull in customer traffic at the store. Instead, Mattie gave him directions for the project, then ambled off to work on another customized design.
For a man who’d never had a problem attracting females, he was beginning to think his theory that money and corporate power lured the opposite sex to him was on the mark. Maybe he wasn’t all that personable, he mused pensively.
Doubts clouded his thoughts as he followed Mattie through a residential section to a small acreage located in a grove of blackjack trees. His thoughts scattered when he turned into the driveway of a small but well-manicured gingerbread-style home. His gaze swung to the detached two-car garage that had been converted into an efficiency apartment. Joe, who had been living in a five-thousand-square-foot brick home in the city’s suburbs, figured he was in for another culture shock.
Climbing from his truck, he ambled alongside Mattie, noting that she refused to encroach on the minimum requirement of three feet of personal space surrounding him. Damn, what was there about him that repelled her?
“I don’t know what you’re accustomed to, Joe, but this garage apartment is cramped quarters,” she said as she pulled a set of keys from the purse that was slung over her shoulder. “The rent is reasonable and the utility bills minimal.”
She opened the door, and Joe immediately fell in love with the place. The open area was paneled in glossy pine. Bay windows provided a spectacular view of trees that skirted the creek. A large mural on the west wall created an optical illusion that the inhabitant of this cracker-box apartment could wander through the tall pines and scale the mountains that lay in the background.
“Did you paint this mural?” he asked, incredulous.
Mattie nodded. “It was Pops who framed the art to give it the three-dimensional effect. It keeps the apartment from crowding in on you.”
“You are an exceptionally talented artist, Mattie,” he complimented as he strode across the carpet to closely examine the detailed artwork. “With the right backing and promotion you could go places in the art world.”
“I’m not interested in national recognition,” she informed him as she came to stand beside him, maintaining a respectable distance. “I paint for the love of it, not the money. I reside here in Fox Hollow because it’s my hometown