Nick looked at her, stretched out on his bed and so soundly sleeping she hadn’t heard him come in, and felt a pang of sympathy. The couch was reasonably comfortable to sit on, but Nick had tried stretching out on it once while watching a movie, and it wasn’t great. Sleeping on it night after night had to be getting to her, and he couldn’t blame Lucy for sneaking a decent nap while he was out.
He needed to stop dragging his feet and finish up the small bedroom. Because he was usually tired after a workday, he’d been picking and choosing from the variety of tasks he wanted to complete for Helen, but he had to get Lucy off that couch so she could get a decent night’s sleep.
He thought about sending a text to the group chat with his brothers, asking for help. The four of them could have Lucy moved into the bedroom in no time.
But Beck would have his hands full with the kids. Theo would be doing water training with the fire department this week and would be exhausted. And Gray was already stressed about them falling behind on the Brock remodel. He’d be in a mood and Nick didn’t want to hear it.
Rather than bother any of them, he’d just work harder. If he hustled during the day, maybe he could cut out a little early. And he could work on it longer after supper each night.
Nick was about to back out of the room and quietly close the door when he realized Lucy’s pretty blue eyes were staring at him. She was awake, but barely, and she blinked a few times before her eyes widened and she sat up.
“Sorry. I wasn’t hiding under the blankets, though. I haven’t been sleeping well at night, and I was just going to put your sweatshirt on the bed and…it was too tempting to resist.”
“It’s not the most comfortable couch ever.”
“It’s the quiet, mostly. It’s so dark and quiet here, like being smothered by a thick, dark blanket.”
“Wouldn’t you like that?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s different—almost like claustrophobia.”
“Have you tried leaving the TV on? It’s got noise, flickering lights. Put on a movie set in Vegas and you’ll probably be asleep in no time.”
“I don’t want to disturb your sleep, since you’re the one with a job and a reason to get up in the morning.”
“Once I’m out, it takes a lot to wake me up. I’m a heavy sleeper.”
“Unless a woman sneaks into the cottage in the middle of the night.”
He snorted. “It is reassuring to know I won’t sleep through a little breaking and entering.”
“For the record, I didn’t break anything. I just entered.”
“That’s valid. I grabbed a steak and some potatoes to grill on my way home.”
“Sounds good.” She smoothed the wrinkles out of the sheets and put the sweatshirt she must have laundered on top of the rocking chair pile.
“Your car was here, so I thought you might be out back, but when I went to fire up the grill, you weren’t there. I thought you might be walking out on the beach, but when I came in to plug in my phone, you were all Goldilocks in the bed.”
She laughed as she followed him to the kitchen. “It was definitely just right.”
Lucy washed and diced the potatoes while Nick seasoned the steak. Then, after she’d loaded the potatoes into a tin foil packet along with a probably unhealthy amount of butter and garlic salt, they took it all outside.
Before Helen left, Nick had brought out her patio furniture, though it was in the yard and not on the rickety deck he’d be replacing. It was one of the ornate, black metal sets, with an umbrella that went through the center of the table, and four café-style chairs. He hadn’t bothered bringing out the umbrella or chair cushions because spring was still happening, but it worked as is.
Since it would be a bit before they needed plates and everything else, he sat in one of the chairs across from Lucy while the steak and potatoes worked up a good sizzle.
“Since a ton of tourists come here in the summer, there must be a lot of seasonal jobs, right?” she asked him.
“Some, yeah. It works out well for the high school kids and the college kids who come home for the summer.”
“Oh.”
Her brow furrowed, and he realized something about his answer had disappointed her. “Are you looking for a seasonal job?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll stay after Gran comes home, but I won’t leave until we’ve had a nice visit. I need to work, but I don’t want to take a permanent position from somebody who’s looking for long-term employment, you know?”
“That makes sense.” He wasn’t sure if a woman who’d been working in Las Vegas understood the pay scale for the jobs typically held by young people in a small town in Maine, coastal or not. It was tempting to ask about her financial situation, but he was afraid to open that door to another person who’d expect to rely on him. “What are your skills?”