Sean eyeballed the bubble, making sure it was exact dead center in the level, and then drove the last screw home. The stairs were done. Tomorrow he’d lay the seats for the built-in bench seating and the deck would be done.
Just in time, too, since tomorrow was his last day of work. He and Emma were taking Thursday and Friday off to spend with Cat since she was leaving on Sunday.
Which meant he’d be leaving on Sunday, too.
“Nice work,” Emma said, startling him because he’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard her approach.
“I told you it’d be good. If it’s treated properly, this deck will outlast the house.” And he wouldn’t be the one treating it. Either Emma would have to see to the weatherproofing or hire somebody else to do it. He wouldn’t be around anymore.
“Are you going to be able to finish the benches tomorrow?”
“Yup.” He turned around and looked out at the property Emma had transformed while he built the deck. “They’re going to love this place.”
She took off her gloves and tossed them down next to his toolbox. “I think so, too. It all came together even better than I thought.”
They made a good pair, just as he’d thought they would, but he didn’t say it out loud. It was something he’d had to do a lot lately—watching what he said. He’d gone with her the previous afternoon to look at a lakefront property and he’d almost pointed out they really needed to rebuild the owners’ boat dock. And when they’d stopped at the grocery store to pick up some steaks, he’d noticed the pot roasts were on sale and almost asked her if she could use a crockpot because nothing beat slow-cooked pot roast on a chilly autumn day.
Luckily he’d remembered he wouldn’t be there for any chilly autumn days before he’d opened his mouth. And, even if he did get a job pounding nails after he left, he shouldn’t bid on pounding any nails with her. She’d managed to get under his skin so completely, the only way he was going to get out of there was to walk away and not look back.
“Are you okay?”
He shook it off and looked at Emma. She was frowning at him. “Yeah, why?”
“You just looked really unhappy for a minute.”
“Just hungry. Thinking about those steaks we bought and how good they’re going to taste tonight.”
She gave him an uncertain look, but didn’t argue. “We should start picking up. I didn’t realize how late it was and Gram likes to eat on the early side.”
He started gathering his tools, wondering if Emma had moments like that. Moments when she was making plans or thinking about something they were going to do before remembering he wouldn’t be there come Monday morning. And if she did, if she cared.
After carrying his tool bucket to the truck, he helped Emma clean her tools and carried them around for her.
“I’m going to miss having you around,” she said lightly, carrying nothing but her gloves. “I’ll have to do my own heavy lifting again.”
Was that the only reason? “You should hire somebody. You can afford to pay me, so you can afford to pay somebody else.”
She only shrugged, as if she might think about it, and he let it go. Wasn’t his business what she did with her company. Once he had her tools stowed in the diamond-plate lockboxes in the back of her truck, he brushed off his hands and opened her door for her since she was just standing there looking at him.
“What’s bothering you?” she asked again. “And don’t tell me you’re hungry.”
What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t going to tell her he was moping because she didn’t seem too broken up over the fact he’d be leaving soon and wouldn’t be coming back. Except for the fact she wouldn’t have him around to carry her tools anymore.
Instead he backed her up against the inside of the open truck door and kissed her. It was a good kiss, too, but apparently not good enough because she pushed him back. “Don’t put me off like that. We’ve already had the discussion about your kisses not making my brain empty of any intelligent thought.”
“Fine. Building a deck alone is hard work and I’m tired. I’ve also been thinking a lot about what I’m going to be doing next week because being a lazy, unemployed bum isn’t really my style.”
And there was the opening. If she had any interest at all in keeping whatever was between them going, she’d at least offer to keep him on with her. Not that he wanted to be a landscaper by trade, but she could ask.
“Okay.” She sighed. “You’ll be back where you started before I knocked on your door, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And if you let me drive home, I’ll give you a massage later.”
Back to sex, which was a pretty solid way of reminding him exactly where their non-relationship stood. He could live with sex. Shaking off the mushy-feelings stuff, he smiled and hooked his fingers in her front pockets. “How about I drive and I give you a massage later?”
“You’re not going to let me drive, are you?”
“I have the magic penis, so I get the keys, remember?”