The Turnaround Treasure Shop by Jennie Jones Page B

that out of pity.
    â€˜Still got the receipt stapled to the warranty. I won it through an internet site about four months ago. They were selling online raffle tickets for a cause I support.’
    Lily relaxed. ‘Looks like I owe you a second thank you.’ Or was it a third?
    â€˜So it’s okay if I give it to you to give to her?’ He gave a backward nod to the back seat. ‘I’ve got it with me.’
    Lily realised they were driving through the opened gate at the bottom of the back paddock and any moment they’d be home. ‘Well, let’s just see, shall we?’ Lily did the mental maths. They’d been counting the money in the Janie-Louise Piggy Bank Fund yesterday. If Lily added 80 dollars to the pocket money she gave her daughter each week… Could she afford that much? She could if she didn’t buy the electric sander she’d been hoping for — elbow-grease was still free, and Lily was strong. After all, she didn’t need to finish off the bigger pieces of furniture in the living-room workshop, did she? She likely wouldn’t get the shop in order to sell them for another two years. Maybe three years. ‘But please come in,’ she said to Nick. ‘Janie-Louise needs to thank you for fixing her bike anyway.’
    Nick pulled up outside the back door and turned in his seat. ‘I won’t, if you don’t mind. I’ve got a gym session with Dan planned, over at my place.’ He stretched over to the back seat, giving Lily a brief but satisfactory glimpse of the waistband of the cargo-pants sitting on his hip, and the flesh of his… What were those muscles that dipped from a man’s waist to his hips? Maybe she’d flip through a few pages of some of the kissing books later and find out.
    Lily undid her seatbelt and opened her door, her face heating up. Abductors . Or was it obliques? Whichever, Nick’s were in perfect condition. Start knitting, Lily .
    â€˜Lily.’
    She looked up.
    Nick pushed a small parcel at her. ‘Please take it.’
    The ereader. She took it reluctantly.
    â€˜There’s something else.’
    Good heavens — like what?
    â€˜I understand you’ve been asked to sort out the new library books for Mrs Tam, and that you’ve got a job tidying Morelly’s back storeroom.’
    How did he know so much ? Was he going to gift her a brand new vacuum cleaner he’d won in another raffle?
    He smiled at her, his features softening, his gaze sparkling in amusement. ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘I don’t have any more surprises for you. It looks like I’ve given you enough for one day.’
    Lily nodded as her mesmerised brain attempted to process the information it had gathered over the last five minutes.
    â€˜It’s just that they’ve both asked me to help,’ he said. ‘With the lifting.’
    â€˜Oh — the lifting!’ So he was the one they’d roped in for all the heavy lifting.
    â€˜I thought I’d mention it,’ he said. ‘In case you hadn’t realised it would be me helping you.’
    Lily sucked in her yoga-strengthened abdomen and held onto her breath a moment as she recovered from the understanding that had just hit her.
    She looked at Nick from beneath her lashes, an apologetic smile creeping onto her face. The poor man. Did he realise what was going on?
    â€˜Just let me know when you want to get to either job,’ he was saying. ‘I’m happy to leave whatever I’m doing in the workshop to meet your schedule. Just say the word. I’ll work around you. Anything you want.’
    Lily’s bottom lip was getting tortured by her teeth. Is this what life would be like if she ever married again? Making decisions and plans with another person. Organising and compromising on times and places and input.
    â€˜Lily? Are you all right?’
    Lily blinked at him. With the conversation she’d had with