Page 34 of On the Shelf

“Niall.” He put down the fabric and fixed him with an unusually serious look. “I’ve known you for, what, four years now? You built this safe little cave for you and Winnie. No risks, no one too close. And now here comes Chuck Mitchum with his power tools and his dodgy clothes and his checkered history of dramatic getaways, and you’re pissing your pleat fronts.”

“I’m not pissing anything,” Niall protested.

“You are. You should be. It’s okay to be. Fear is healthy. It helps us survive.” Gavin reached across the counter to squeeze his arm. “Please don’t sabotage something that could be good just because of some future you’re making up about it.”

Niall exhaled, the fight leaking out of him in a wobbly rush. “What if I let him in and he leaves? What if Winnie gets attached? She’s already lost one parent.”

“What if he stays?” Gavin countered. “What if this kicks off something amazing you can’t even imagine? What if everything you ever did isn’t all you’ll ever do? The future doesn’t come shrink-wrapped, Niall. It’s like flowers, baby. They’re not plastic. I work with ’em how I find ’em. Live and weird. The only reason they’re beautiful at all is because they do their own damn thing.”

Before Niall could respond, the bell over the door jingled again, and this time it was Chuck who walked in, arms bulging under the lumber and a tool belt slung over his shoulder. He caught Niall’s eye and broke into a smile, and Niall forgot whatever sentence wanted to escape his mouth.

“Hey,” Chuck said. The single word somehow held the force of everything that had changed between them the night before.

“Hey now,” Niall replied, tongue-tied and tense.

Gavin looked between them, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Well, I’ll get cracking on this window display and leave you two to… go build a big hard tree with your tools.” He grabbed his box and headed for the front window, but not before shooting Niall an exaggerated wink.

Chuck set the lumber down, his eyes never leaving Niall’s. “Got everything we need for the center joist and the frame. Thought I’d get started while the store’s still quiet.”

“Sounds great.” Niall was now hyperaware of Gavin pretending not to eavesdrop from the window. “Need any help?”

“I wouldn’t say no to an extra pair of hands.” Chuck shrugged, but the gravel in his voice made Niall think where those hands had gone the night before.

“I can spare a few minutes. Let me just….” Niall gestured vaguely toward the counter, where a stack of mail sat unopened.

“Take your time. I’ll be in the children’s section, measuring.” Chuck picked up his supplies and headed to the back of the store, leaving Niall to collect himself.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Gavin stage-whispered from the window like a fop in a farce, “That, my friend, is what the youngsters call foreplay. In case you got confused by all the steamy gazes and bulging whatnot. I’d call that some solid innuendo edging into dirty talk, right at your place of business, you randy whore. ‘An extra pair of hands’? Please.”

“Can it, Gav,” Niall hissed, but without any real heat. He was too distracted by the memory of Chuck’s smile and too busy tracing it with imaginary fingers to land the comeback.

Maybe Gavin was right. Maybe life was messy.

Niall spent the next hour alternating between helping customers and assisting Chuck with the prep on the treehouse base. They moved around each other so easily that even Niall stopped pretending it was accidental….

By the time Winnie was due to return from her sleepover, Chuck had constructed the basic frame of the platform that would form the base of the treehouse. It sat on the floor of the children’s section, waiting to be lifted into place and secured to the sturdy bookshelves and wall.

“Dad!” Winnie’s voice rang out as she burst through the front door, her sleepover bag dragging behind her. “No way. Is that—?”

“Way.” Niall turned to see his daughter’s beaming face. Behind her, Sasha’s mother waved from the doorway and headed back to her car.

“Is Chuck building—?” Her eyes and mouth were round with shock.

“That he is,” Niall confirmed, bracing himself as Winnie dropped her bag, launched herself at him for a quick hug, and then raced to the back of the store.

“Wow,” he heard her exclaim. “I can help.”

Niall followed at a more sedate pace and found Winnie already deep in conversation with Chuck, who was crouched beside her, showing her the plans they’d drawn up the night before.

“Then we’re going to make the railing look like vines,” Chuck explained, “to make the tree look more alive. Plus, there’s going to be a secret compartment for your special stuff.”

“A secret compartment?” Winnie’s eyes widened. “Where?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.” Chuck crossed his arms. “You just wait.”

Watching them together felt as calm and sweet as sunrise. Chuck was so natural with her, so direct and engaged, not treating her with the bland half-attention adults aimed at children. And Winnie clearly respected him; her face shone with a fierce happiness he hadn’t seen too often in the aftermath of Elise’s abrupt departure.

This, Niall realized, was what he’d been afraid of—not just his own heart getting broken, but Winnie’s. Because now she looked at Chuck the way she used to look at the door, back when she still thought her mother might walk through it. If Chuck left suddenly, the damage would have a real radius.