“I can relate to that,” Grant said solemnly, the muscles in his jaw bunching.
Jules put her arm around him, hugging him, hurting for his loss anew.
“I bet you can, son,” Saul said. “I was lucky that my wife was a creative thinker. One day she looked at me and said she didn’t care what I did or if we lived in a hovel. ‘For all I care we could open a shop,’ she said. I thought she’d lost her mind. What did we know about running a shop? I laughed it off and asked what would we sell. She threw her hands up and said, ‘Everything Under the Sun,’ and here we are, nearly thirty years later, doing just that.”
“I love that story. Your wife sounds amazing.” Jules smiled at him.
“You’ll have to meet her one day,” Saul said. “Maybe you two will make it to one of our community breakfasts.”
“We definitely will,” Grant said, surprising Jules. “I’m sorry you went through all that you did. I noticed you were limping. Did you injure your hip?”
“Thankfully, no. As you get older, your body changes, and that means it’s time for a new leg. But you know how expensive they are, and insurance isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’ve been padding the socket with socks for months. But the holidays will bring more tourists, and hopefully by February I’ll be able to afford a new one.”
Grant’s expression turned even more serious. “It’s dangerous to wear a poorly fitting prosthesis. It can cause a host of other issues.”
“Yes, I’ve been dealing with some of them.”
“Have you looked into any of the nonprofits that help pay for artificial limbs?” Grant asked.
“I earn too much to qualify. Talk about a double-edged sword. We eke out a living, then pay for it in other ways. But I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He went back around the counter and handed them the bag. “You two enjoy the rest of your day, and, Grant, please tell your folks I said hello.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you, Saul,” Grant said tightly.
They left the shop, and Grant stopped on the sidewalk, those muscles in his jaw working hard. “Can you hold this for a second and wait out here for a minute.” He handed her the bag. “I want to talk to him in private.”
He rushed back into the shop, and Jules peered in through the door. She saw him talking with Saul. The old man shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. Grant crossed his arms as he spoke; then he splayed his hands as if pleading. He paced for a moment, then wrote something down, and Saul did the same. They exchanged papers, and Jules jumped away from the door as Grant headed back outside.
“What was that all about?” she asked as he took the bag from her.
“I can’t stand the thought of him wearing a poorly fitting prosthesis. I offered to pay for whatever his insurance wouldn’t cover, but he’s too proud to accept it. I have to do something. I’m sure he’s in pain, and that’s why he’s limping. That uneven gait will throw off his back alignment, if it hasn’t already. Goddamn insurance.”
This was the compassionate Grant everyone knew and loved. “What can we do?”
“He gave me his doctor’s number. I’m going to call and see if I can get him a discount.”
“Can you do that?” she asked as they headed down the street.
He gritted his teeth without answering. “I have half a mind to buy everything in his shop so he can afford to get a new one tomorrow.”
“You can’t do that.”
He gave her a wanna bet? stare.
“Grant, he won’t let you. But what if we ask everyone we know to buy something from his shop and not to let on that we’re doing it? We can explain the situation and have them keep it on the downlow. It’ll be like a secret Santa gift for him.”
“That’s a start.”
“It’s exactly the type of thing the community loves to get behind, and you know he won’t turn away customers.”
“I like that idea.”
“We make a pretty good sneaky team, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” he said distractedly.
“What’s wrong?”
He stopped walking, trouble shadowing his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thinking about guys like Saul suffering makes me sick to my stomach.”
“What about getting involved with one of the charities I found online?”
“You heard what he said. How can he earn too much to qualify for help working in a shop like that? How many other people are in that same position? I have the means to do a hell of a lot more than just give money to charities. Especially if guys like Saul don’t qualify for them. I just have to figure out what more is.”
“Want to know what I think?”
“Always.”
“I think you just found your next meaningful mission.” She hooked her finger into the waist of his jeans, pressing her body against him. “The one that might lead you to figuring out your future.”
“I think you might be right.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Things seem to be falling into place. I just have to figure out what it all means and how to make it come together.”
“See what happens when you leave your bungalow?”
“You mean when I follow a flitting, happy-dust-sprinkling pixie?” He put his arms around her, his eyes darkening again. “How about we focus on the here”—he grabbed one of her butt cheeks—“and now.” He grabbed her other butt cheek. “And see what we can do about the two of us coming together.”
She buried her face in his chest, then tipped her heated cheeks up to him. “How did you go from serious to dirty so fast?”
“This gorgeous girl is trying to teach me to seize the moment each and every day.” He leaned down, speaking huskily into her ear. “I’m a very fast learner.”
Chapter Nineteen
ON THE WAY to Fisherman’s Wharf for dinner, they found the cute pastel-colored cushions for Jules’s window seat. She was elated and said she had the perfect pillows at her shop to finish it off. They grabbed dinner at the wharf and had whispered and kissed so often, the waitress asked if they were newlyweds. Grant was surprised at how quickly changes were coming over him. Jules was drawing out a new man in him, a man he was pretty sure had never existed before they’d come together. He was driven and focused like he’d been when he’d worked for Darkbird, but his focus had shifted from being an iron-clad warrior to embracing the emotions he felt for her. He wanted to be free from the armor he’d worn for a lifetime, to be closer to Jules and figure out his next steps with her by his side. It was fast, but it felt fucking amazing.
On their way to the truck, Jules told him about her pet peeves—mean and judgmental people and people who try to correct her singing. “I mean, really. Give a girl a break.”
He laughed. “I agree. How about your favorite things?”
“Friends, family, kissing you, and this. I love today.”
“What part of it?”
“All of it,” she said as he opened her door and helped her into the truck. “I love that we did projects together, and I learned something new, and that you told me what you were feeling when you painted those pictures. I love everything about being here in Seaport, especially that you want to help Saul. I just love being with you, Grant, no matter what we’re doing.”