Glue gun in hand, Meadow whirled.
Ack! The object of conversation stood in the doorway, conglomeration of bags hooked on his fingers. How much did he hear? Conviction hit Meadow at what she’d said and how. But she couldn’t bring herself to bend the doubt where his motives were concerned. Plus, Flora’s ridiculous romantic comments were sure to rile him.
Yet his face held amusement, not derision.
Arms unfolding, he pressed off from the doorjamb. “Thanks. It’s a work in progress.” He stepped over, set two carryout bags on the table, and kept a third. “Like me.”
Meadow’s face heated.
A grin fought for leverage on his lips as he nodded toward her hand. “If you’re planning to shoot me with that thing, I suggest higher-caliber ammo.”
Meadow’s gaze flew to her fist. Sure enough, she was aiming the glue gun right at him. She yanked up a swath of satin and continued dotting pearl-like patterns on the bride’s reception napkin for an upcoming Valentine wedding, in keeping with the client’s desired romantic theme.
“You brought us lunch from Favre’s?” Flora beamed like the foodie she was, but Meadow recognized her exaggerated motions as a peacemaking attempt.
“Figured if you’d eaten, you could save this for another meal.” A muscle worked in Colin’s jaw when his eyes roved over Meadow. Regret therein sent her gaze to her lap.
Flora chattered on, entrenched in her peacekeeping mission. She’d always tried to pacify their parents’ fighting. After their dad was sentenced to thirty years for felony child endangerment, abuse, and domestic battery, their mom drugged herself into a lethal coma. Meadow was twelve.
Even after the Larson children went to live with their grandparents, Flora was always the one soothing sibling discord. An impossible feat at times since they were all close in age and raised in an atmosphere of abuse until then.
The turning point had been the night Meadow, age ten, witnessed her father shove Flora off a porch. The fall had broken Flora’s arm, his words her spirit. Worse, he’d warned them not to speak of it. Flora’s muffled cries of pain into her filthy pillow had shattered Meadow’s soul.
She’d run to a neighbor, who reported Flora’s injury to police. That neighbor had been Del, Meadow’s eventual high school home economics teacher and, retired from teaching now, her catering partner. Ironically, Meadow’s courage as a teen despite social stigma had eventually empowered Del to leave her own abuse system.
Reporting her dad’s abuse and mom’s drug use had been the hardest thing Meadow had ever done. Even as a tween, she’d hard-earned enough wisdom to know peace wasn’t possible unless her parents got professional help. Horrifically, when EMTs and police arrived, Flora had tried to pretend she was okay for the sake of keeping family peace.
Meadow’s insides squeezed at the realization that her unforgiveness of Colin put Flora right back in that awful place. She saw Colin first observe Flora, then her. She avoided his intrusive gaze.
A knowing entered his expression as he commenced to help Flora reach plates.
Meadow studied him in profile. He’d matured well. He had dark blond hair and deep emerald eyes that drew a person’s entire soul in and an air of humility she’d not noticed before. Yet he emitted a confidence that altered the atmosphere and yielded impressions of safety and protection that made him easy to behold.
And, if she wasn’t careful, easy to open up to.
Look away. Just look away now.
Colin stepped into her view. “Sleeping okay here?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She met his gaze so he could see she meant it.
A slow smile transformed his chiseled face into something exquisite. Meadow had a tough time looking away. Flora’s blooming smirk put an end to that.
Seriously, no man had a right to look so incredible in a simple blue work shirt. Not to mention that his trim hips and long, strong legs entirely revolutionized cargo pants. Meadow fanned herself with banquet table flowers. Too vigorously. Silk petals whirled off like little helicopters flying every which way.
Flora’s grin exploded. The fiend.
A chair creaked as Colin leaned on it. “I’ve got building materials in the truck. Before I unload, do you ladies need anything?”
“I’m good. You, Flora?” Meadow pulled food from the bags, grateful for her sister’s perceptiveness in disengaging Colin with chatter so he’d leave sooner.
Flora patted a chair seat. “Actually, Colin, why don’t you join us for lunch before you get started?”
Meadow retracted her mental praise of Flora. Her sister’s Sibling Support grade just plunged from an A to a D.
“If Meadow doesn’t mind.”