at the pier each night, and sheâd discovered they also made her happy. Something about just working on a silly smiling fish with big eyes or brightly colored fins made her feel uplifted. Sun and sea pieces had made her feel relaxed, calm, peacefulâand that was what sheâd needed for a long while after coming to Coral Cove. Yet somewhere along the way, she supposed, sheâd started needing less peace and more happy.
She generally kept the cottage quiet when she worked. Sometimes, though, in the mild weather of spring or fall, she could open the windows and let the sound of the surf echo in, as it was doing on this September morning the day after making her new agreement with Fletcher. An added benefit of the art studio in her cottage was the large window above her worktable that allowed her to look out on her garden as she created new pieces.
After using her string cutter to cut a fresh slab of clay for a new fish plate, she used a rolling pin, same as you would on cookie dough, rolling the clay out to about a quarter inch thickness. Then came the funâthe freehand design of a brand new happy fish.
Mostly it was shaping it with her fingers, but once she accomplished that, she would smooth down the edges with a wet sponge, then use a knife or the tip of a small paint brush to carve in indentions and detail. And later, she would add in additional pieces of clayâa fin, a tail, a mouthâto make the plate three-dimensional.
As the piece of simple clay became a fish in Tamraâs hands, she wondered how Jeremy was doing on the golf hut. As far as she could tell, the work had been looking good, but since that first morning, sheâd only stopped by in her SUV a few times to check in with him, then driven away.
Itâs stupid to let that one uncomfortable-yet-heart-rippling event keep you from spending time on the jobsite. After all, since when do you let anything or anyone intimidate you?
And yet, as she crimped one edge of clay with her fingertips to create a scalloped tail, she couldnât not be honest with herself. The thought of going back to the jobsite brought about other feelings, as well.
Itâs stupid that you want to see him. You donât even like him. And yet, the truth was, every time she thought about him, even when Fletcher had brought him up yesterday and sheâd so vehemently stuck to her story of having no interest in him, sheâd continued suffering a reaction. A tingling sensation that ran the length of her body yet was undeniably centered at the cruxof her thighs, emanating outward in waves, like radio signals coming from a tower.
Eventually pleased with the new fish sheâd created, she placed it in a plastic container, where it would dry for a week or so before the first firing. Otherwise, it would crack or explode in the kiln.
Three fish later, she decided to go up to the golf course and start behaving like an adult here. She had a job to oversee, after all.
But this wasnât because she wanted to see him. It was . . . to stop avoiding him.
Part of Tamra was tempted to put on one of her long, flowy skirts. Because so far she didnât think Jeremy had seen her looking her best. But thatâs ridiculous. Especially since youâre not interested in him. Or so you keep claiming.
Instead, she opted to just change the simple tee sheâd been working in to a nicer topâperfectly casual but more fitted. There was no crime in showing off her shape a little, after all. Not particularly to him, but to just . . . anyone.
As she parked her car in the mini-golf courseâs recently paved parking lot, she spotted Jeremy in the distance. Working in the hot sun, heâd tied a dark bandana around his head as a sweatband and wore a snug white T-shirt, dingy and soiled from work, but which still managed to outline the muscles in his chest and upper arms. His khaki shorts were loose, and a low-slung tool belt draped his hips above dirty
She generally kept the cottage quiet when she worked. Sometimes, though, in the mild weather of spring or fall, she could open the windows and let the sound of the surf echo in, as it was doing on this September morning the day after making her new agreement with Fletcher. An added benefit of the art studio in her cottage was the large window above her worktable that allowed her to look out on her garden as she created new pieces.
After using her string cutter to cut a fresh slab of clay for a new fish plate, she used a rolling pin, same as you would on cookie dough, rolling the clay out to about a quarter inch thickness. Then came the funâthe freehand design of a brand new happy fish.
Mostly it was shaping it with her fingers, but once she accomplished that, she would smooth down the edges with a wet sponge, then use a knife or the tip of a small paint brush to carve in indentions and detail. And later, she would add in additional pieces of clayâa fin, a tail, a mouthâto make the plate three-dimensional.
As the piece of simple clay became a fish in Tamraâs hands, she wondered how Jeremy was doing on the golf hut. As far as she could tell, the work had been looking good, but since that first morning, sheâd only stopped by in her SUV a few times to check in with him, then driven away.
Itâs stupid to let that one uncomfortable-yet-heart-rippling event keep you from spending time on the jobsite. After all, since when do you let anything or anyone intimidate you?
And yet, as she crimped one edge of clay with her fingertips to create a scalloped tail, she couldnât not be honest with herself. The thought of going back to the jobsite brought about other feelings, as well.
Itâs stupid that you want to see him. You donât even like him. And yet, the truth was, every time she thought about him, even when Fletcher had brought him up yesterday and sheâd so vehemently stuck to her story of having no interest in him, sheâd continued suffering a reaction. A tingling sensation that ran the length of her body yet was undeniably centered at the cruxof her thighs, emanating outward in waves, like radio signals coming from a tower.
Eventually pleased with the new fish sheâd created, she placed it in a plastic container, where it would dry for a week or so before the first firing. Otherwise, it would crack or explode in the kiln.
Three fish later, she decided to go up to the golf course and start behaving like an adult here. She had a job to oversee, after all.
But this wasnât because she wanted to see him. It was . . . to stop avoiding him.
Part of Tamra was tempted to put on one of her long, flowy skirts. Because so far she didnât think Jeremy had seen her looking her best. But thatâs ridiculous. Especially since youâre not interested in him. Or so you keep claiming.
Instead, she opted to just change the simple tee sheâd been working in to a nicer topâperfectly casual but more fitted. There was no crime in showing off her shape a little, after all. Not particularly to him, but to just . . . anyone.
As she parked her car in the mini-golf courseâs recently paved parking lot, she spotted Jeremy in the distance. Working in the hot sun, heâd tied a dark bandana around his head as a sweatband and wore a snug white T-shirt, dingy and soiled from work, but which still managed to outline the muscles in his chest and upper arms. His khaki shorts were loose, and a low-slung tool belt draped his hips above dirty
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