Wood Worked - Page 59

Spencer’s head swung around. “We all just told her that we’re open to it.”

“Open to starting something,” Flynn said. “It’s like we’ve asked a girl on a date, but we haven’t even been on it yet. How do we know if we’re compatible with her and her with us?”

“We know,” Raphael.

“Well, I don’t,” Flynn said. “She barely knows me.”

“But I’d like to,” I said.

“Well, there’s a place to start,” Raphael said. “We figure things out as we go along, take it slow if we need to, and give Alyssa and Flynn a chance to get to know each other better.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“Me too,” Flynn said.

But not all of us had weighed in on the issue. “Spencer?”

He took a moment, but then he said, “Me too.”

22

Spencer

It didn’t take a lot of thought to figure out a natural way for Lyss and Flynn to get to know each other better. He was an incredibly talented wood worker. She was a bright engineer. And we had a beloved next-door neighbor who was stuck in a glorified nursing home because her house wasn’t wheelchair ready.

Therefore, Flynn and Alyssa got to work. Rafe gave them a key, and they spent hours over at Nana’s place. At first, they said their work consisted of mostly decluttering, but after that, they began to make plans. Alyssa drew up a blueprint like she had for the twins’ fantastic treehouse. There were doorframes that needed to be widened, floors that went uphill, and more.

The biggest problem, they told me one evening after work, was the front walk. Nana had a rickety old porch that had steep stairs. The geography of her yard didn’t lend itself well to a ramp, but they were determined to figure out a way.

The truly bizarre part is that Flynn and Alyssa seemed to work well together. They’d disagree, endlessly debate, and occasionally fight, but in the end, they’d come up with a good, solid plan. Then through the magic of his carpentry skills, Flynn got started on making it work.

Wednesday evening, after I’d tucked the twins in, I found Alyssa sitting on the sofa, engrossed in the book she’d been reading the kids. “You’re not supposed to read ahead, you know.”

An adorably guilty look crossed her face. “I just wanted to make sure there weren’t any scenes that would upset them…” she trailed off, and I gave her my best principal look. “All right, I was curious about what happens next.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” I cleared my throat as I looked down at her. She had her good knee bent and hugged to her chest. The leg with the cast was resting on the coffee table. She had to be dying to bend her bad leg by now, but she rarely complained about the pain or discomfort. “I was wondering if you could join me out on the deck in a few minutes. I mean, join us.”

She smiled at my rephrasing. “I’d love to join you guys.” She shook off my helping hand and reached for her crutches. “I have to learn to do this by myself.”

That was true, and she’d been doing a great job, but the sofa was really low and deep. I didn’t see how she could get herself up without putting any pressure on her bad leg, but she did it with only one grimace of pain.

“Your ribs?”

“My everything. Next time, I’ll let you give me a hand—but only when I’m on the sofa.”

She crutched her way to the bathroom, saying that she’d join us in a minute.

Raphael, Flynn, and I waited on the deck, sipping beer and not talking too much. We’d already done that earlier when we made sure we were on the same page. Things were still a bit awkward between me and Flynn, but they were better than they were. And that was thanks to Alyssa, and the way she’d been straightforward and bold as hell.

Now it was our turn.

Once she was seated and had a cup of tea in front of her, I launched into our plan. “We’d like to go on a date with you.”

“All three of you?”

Flynn gave a short bark of laughter. “That’s the deal, right? All for one and one for all?”

Alyssa giggled. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

“We’d love to take you to a restaurant, but that’s not very practical,” I continued.

“But I’m doing much better with the crutches,” she protested. “It’s not like you’d have to carry me in there.”

“It’s not that,” Raphael said gently. “It’s Spencer.”

I didn’t love his choice of words, but I didn’t say anything. However, he knew me well—possibly better than Flynn did.

“What I mean is, it’s Spencer’s job. He’s the head of an elementary school. Any hint of impropriety could jeopardize his career.”

“Oh my god, I never thought of that.” Alyssa was clearly upset. “We can’t let you risk your job. Maybe this whole thing is a bad idea.”

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