by Jessica Berg
She itched her skin at the idea of creepy, crawly things creeping and crawling on her. “Sure. Let me grab some breakfast, and I’ll be right out.”
She didn’t wait for his reply and escaped into the kitchen. Phoebe followed. “At least he’s still talking to you.”
Grace poured herself a bowl of Special K cereal and skim milk and ate with a vengeance. “What am I going to do?”
Phoebe grabbed a handful of cereal from the box, munching and fiddling with the pots and pans hanging from the rack suspended above the kitchen island. “Do you want to know what I honestly think?”
“No, please lie to me.”
“No need to be snippy. Anyway. I think Carpenter Hottie likes you enough to give you some space.”
Grace groaned around a mouthful of cereal. “That sucks.”
“What? You are crazy.”
“Don’t you get it? I don’t want him to like me. I don’t deserve it.” Once the words were out, she slid to the kitchen floor and put her head between her knees.
Phoebe sank beside her and rested her head against the stainless steel oven. “Why? Why don’t you deserve a good man?”
Her breath hitched, and she wiped her nose on her bare arm. “Look at me. I’m broken. What exactly can I bring to a relationship? Nothing.” Phoebe held her while the tears came. They didn’t sting this time, they soothed, and in their wake calm instead of a storm. Grace released herself from her sister’s embrace and wiped away the salty moisture. “Sorry about snotting all over your pretty shirt.”
Phoebe brushed at the smears. “Anything for you. You are not broken. You’ve been tried and tested and been found worthy. You just have to believe it.” Phoebe kissed her cheek. “Oh, and by the way, you look like crap.”
Grace rubbed her hands over her face. “Maybe it will keep unwanted visitors off my property.”
“Ha! Maybe Carpenter Hottie likes dirty women.”
Grace stared at the tiny black hole under the porch. A shudder ran through her body. Icky, nasty things lived there.
“Ready?” Dominick asked.
She snatched the headlamp he offered and placed it on her head, sending a laughing Phoebe a death glare. “Shut up, or I’ll make you go into the creepy hole.” Phoebe zipped her lip and shook with silent laughter.
“Okay. When you get under the porch, there should be a pipe sticking out of the ground and into the side of the house. That is where the leak is. You need to tighten the elbow joint and use this caulking liberally around the ends of the joint. It might not hurt to check the section of pipe going into the house. Caulk that as well.”
She puffed a few wispy bangs off her forehead. “Sure. No problem.” Yeah, right.
He handed her the pipe wrench and stuck the caulking tube into the back of her shorts. She shot a glare at Phoebe, who was too busy fanning herself to notice.
Grace gave a mock salute and started to wriggle her way under the porch. The damp ground cooled her hot skin as she shimmied farther into the hole. Her headlamp beamed a shaft of light in front of her. Swishing her head from side to side, she checked for any wayward badgers, rabid skunks, mutant spiders, and sharks (on the freak chance they lived under porches).
“You okay?” Dominick’s voice sounded as if it were traveling through a tunnel. He tapped the bottom of her Nikes. “You’re still halfway out. Need a shove?”
She knew what remained outside the hole. “Nope. I’m good.” She continued crawling military-style through the hole, and eventually, her entire body lay smooshed under the porch.
“This sucks,” she whispered to the dank dirt. Directing the light toward the outside of the house, Grace spotted the waterline. Sure enough, small droplets of water plinked to the ground with staccato fluency. “Found it.”
Dominick repeated the instructions, and she slid through the mud toward the pipe. Taking the pipe wrench in one hand, she used her other one as an added weight to get a tight seal. The dripping stopped. Using her T-shirt to dry the elbow joint, she caulked the ends. Not proficient with the caulking gun, she ended up getting caulking in her hair, on her face, and in her armpits.
“Crap.” The coolness of the small hovel heated to a sauna. Sweat combined with the caulking, the caulking combined with the red mud. She crawled over to the outside wall of the house and checked the pipe entering the house. Nothing wrong there. She backed up. The headlamp’s beam illuminated a large, furry, eight-legged creature crouched inches from her face.
Her heart thudded, her body tensed. A scream ripped through her body. “Get me out. Now!”
The spider blinked its million eyes and sprinted toward her. She screamed again. “F word.”
Something tugged on her legs. Grace kicked. That spider was not going to carry her off to its lair and eat her alive if she had any say in the matter.
“Stop kicking.” Dominick’s sharp command broke through her fear.
He pulled her by her ankles, and as soon as she emerged from the hole, she danced around, brushing herself wildly from head to toe. “Get it off me.”
Dominick, arms crossed over his chest, watched her dance wildly around. “Did she just yell ‘F word.’”
“Yeah.” Phoebe sipped on her juice.
“That’s not a normal thing to say.”
“Nope.” Another sip. “Should we help her?”
“Nope, I like watching her dance.”
“Yeah, she learned all her moves from me.”
He chuckled. “Grace was right. You are crazy, aren’t you?”
“One of a kind. Someone needs to snatch me up while I’m hot.” She batted her eyelashes. “You interested?”
“Sorry. No can do. Someone’s already snatched me up.” He flicked a gaze at the crazy woman still dancing the heebie-jeebie jig. “Problem is she doesn’t know it yet.”
Phoebe sniffled and wiped her nose on her bright yellow tank top. Not able to deal with two emotional women, he picked the less crazy one.
“Here, let me help you.” He approached Grace cautiously.
Her arm flailed out in an attempt to kill all the creepy-crawlies and whacked him across the nose.
He cradled his nose in his hands. “That’s it, woman. Hold still, or I’ll shove you back under the porch and let the spiders adopt you.”
Grace, too preoccupied with her issues, never heard him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, wrapping one arm around her to keep her still. With rough tenderness, he cupped her chin in his hand and with the other fished out all the cobwebs from her hair.
For the first time since emerging from the hole, Grace looked at him. “You’re bleeding.”
Dominick carefully dabbed his nose. “Yup. Sure am.” He went back to picking out other debris from her hair, not showing her the huge spider he plucked off her.
“Why are you bleeding?”
“Some wild animal attacked me.”
“Don’t you hate when that happens?”
He stopped messing with her hair, spun her around, gave a cursory wipe over her back, and spun her to face him again. “Depends on the animal.” Whipping a bandana from his back pocket, he carefully, and with a steady hand, wiped the sweat and grime off her face.
With his face inches from hers, he found it difficult to breathe. His heart thumped in his chest. Her eyes warmed as they traveled the length of his scar. He wanted her to touch him, trace the scar he carried with him, a memory with deep roots. He swallowed as her gaze linger on his lips. If he didn’t stop this now, he would taste her, right here, right now.
“There.” Giving one last swipe of her cheek, he let go. “A shower should finish this up.”
She blinked, her hazy gaze brightening. “What?”
Dominick couldn’t resist one last touch and curled an escaped tendril of her hair around his finger. “You. Shower. Wash. Clean.”
“Yeah.” She licked her lips. “Right.”
He dropped his voice, couldn’t help but play her soft hair between his fingers. “Thanks for helpin
g me this morning.” He reached out his other hand and brushed a stray piece of red mud off her nose. “I wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have … you know … kissed you.” He glanced at the house, at the tree grove, anywhere but at her. “It won’t happen again unless you—” He dropped his hands.
“Yes?” Her eyes widened, her hands smoothed her hair.
“Never mind. Thanks for helping.” Walking away from her tore his heart in two.
Chapter 18
Dominick clenched his fist. Raised it to knock on Grace’s door. He should have asked her before he botched it up fifteen minutes ago, but Lilly would never forgive him if he didn’t relay the message he’d sworn to deliver.
Changed his mind, let it drop to his side. Lifted his fist again. Knocked.
“Come in.”
Her invitation excited him more than it should. If only she invited him into her heart as well. He walked into her room and her scent. She must have just got done in the shower. From her clothes draped over her made bed to the pressed flowers on the wall, she had branded her room as hers.
“Oh!”
He whirled. There she stood in a towel, her hair turbaned in another, her skin glistening. Heat slammed into his core. A blush work it’s way up from the edge of her towel, coloring her chest, her collarbone, her slender neck. It might have been seconds, it could have been hours, but he finally spun around, giving her privacy. “Sorry. I thought I heard you say come in.”
“I thought you were Phoebe.” Her voice, breathless and husky, knifed through him. She dashed over to her bed, grabbed the clothes she had set out, and ran back into the bathroom. “I’ll be right out.”
Dominick let out a pent-up breath. He wandered the room, looking at the pressed wildflowers. He sat on the window seat he had made and squinted out at the bright afternoon sky. At the sound of the bathroom door opening, he hopped up and rearranged the pillows he’d squished.
She kept the bed between them. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah. We’re celebrating the Fourth of July this Saturday. Beacon usually has a big celebration, and we, my friends, family, and I and Lilly, of course, get together and grill out and stuff.” He shuffled his feet. “Would you like to join us, like you did at the lake.”
“I’d love to spend more time with your daughter. I haven’t been able to keep my tea appointment. I hope she wasn’t disappointed.”
Dominick chuckled. “No. She mentions it every now and then, though. You should plan on coming in tomorrow.” His heart ached. “She’s the greatest thing to ever happen to me. Changed my life. Her mother … ” This was always the tricky part of telling people his story. He had to say what he didn’t want to believe out loud. He risked a glance into her eyes, drank in the compassion, the kindness. “I met Lilly’s mother when I was in the military. Love at first sight. Marriage four months later. Baby nine months later.” He cleared the lump in his throat. “Carmen was her name. She died when Lilly was three months old.”
“I’m sorry, Dominick. Losing someone is never easy.”
His jaw clenched. Watching them die was never easy. Being responsible for their deaths unimaginable. Pain knifed through him, the cords of his neck constricting. Not ready to open the festering wound in front of Grace, he massaged the pain away instead. “So, um, did you want to come or not?”
“I’ll have to ask Phoebe, but we should be able to come.”
“That’s great. Whatever works for you. I’ll let you know tomorrow the specific times and the place. It’ll be at my place this year.” He quirked an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t have any problem finding it.” What would she do if he followed the blush working it’s way up her neck with his lips?
“Phoebe’s idea. But I am sorry we … I … invaded your privacy.”
The memory of her under him, his tongue licking her shoulder, her neck had his blood overheating. “No worries. Oh, just a warning here. There’s a huge storm brewing. If you have any problems, give me a call. You won’t hear the sirens from town in case of a tornado. Keep your radio on and keep your eye on the sky.”
He caught himself whistling as he climbed in his pickup. Lilly would be over the moon at the news. Just like he was.
***
The air hung heavily over the Kansas prairie. Storm clouds brewed on the horizon, and cattle shoved themselves into the corners of the fence. The grass wriggled in anticipation of a long, cool drink.
Grace sat on the porch swing Dominick had installed. The horizon flickered with lightning, distant thunder rumbling an ominous threat. Never a fan of storms, she clutched her beer bottle and chewed her bottom lip.
“What county are we in again?” Phoebe called from inside the house.
“I don’t remember.”
“Doesn’t matter. Everybody is under a severe weather warning.”
“Awesome,” Grace muttered. The clouds heaved and breathed on the horizon.
Phoebe joined her on the porch swing. “I wish Dominick and his men wouldn’t have left. It’s a little scary being out here by ourselves with this storm coming.”
Grace fumbled for her cell phone. She needed Dominick and not necessarily for protection from the storm. She dialed his number but pressed the end button. She wouldn’t be the damsel in distress.
“Burr, is it colder, or is it just me?” Phoebe hugged her arms to her chest and rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
Goosebumps exploded on Grace’s exposed skin. “No, it’s much cooler.” Angry black clouds flashed with lightning as the rumble gave way to a thunderous crack, shaking the window behind them. “We’re in for one heck of an evening, Pheebs.”
As a perfectly-timed omen, the skies opened, propelling fat raindrops into the ground. Mrs. Sloucombe, gray hair standing on end, flashed across the porch and sprinted to the tree line behind the house.
“Crap.” Grace jumped off the porch swing. “I need to go get her.”
Phoebe grabbed her arm. “I don’t think so. This storm is moving fast, and you’ll get caught out in it.” Phoebe pointed to the sky. The clouds, black and menacing, grumbled and swirled above the house.
“I’ll make it. Trust me, I’ll be fine.” She yanked herself from Phoebe’s grasp and dashed out into the rain. Soaked within seconds, she splashed through puddles toward the tree line.
Lightning slashed the sky, sending her crouching to the soaked ground. “Bad idea, Grace. Very, very bad idea.”
Keeping a wary eye on the blackening sky, she called for Mrs. Sloucombe. “Mrs. S., where are you? Here kitty, kitty.” A small meow echoed from the tree closest to her. She squinted, and there perched Mrs. Sloucombe trying to keep a grip on the drenched tree branch.
“Hi, kitty. You need to come down now. Okay?” She raised her hands, hoping her cat would jump right into her arms. “Oh, you stupid cat. Jump. I’ll catch you.”
Mrs. Sloucombe meowed at her and clung to the tree branch. Lightning forked in the sky, a tine breaking off, striking the tree with a deafening crack. A large branch peeled off and plummeted to the ground. She ran, but her feet stuck to the sucking mud. She threw herself to the ground and covered her head with her hands. And knew only darkness.
Thunk. Ping. Crack.
Coming out of unconsciousness, Grace yelped with pain and covered her head with her hands to protect her face from the torpedoing hail torpedoing. Fear gripped her insides like a demented cat. It was better when she had fainted.
“Phoebe!” Grace yelled. With one last superhuman effort, she tugged her leg. No luck. “God, if you’re going to help me, I’d like it to be soon.” Thunder crashed, and lightning streaked in forks across the sky. “Okay. Never mind. Take your time.”
Amid the howling wind and cracking thunder, someone called her name.
“Here.” Grace’s voice cracked. “I’m over here.”
Phoebe skidded to a stop and knelt next to her. “Are you okay?”
She could barely hear Phoebe over the rain and wind. “No. There’s a fric
kin’ tree on me. Now get back to the house before something bad happens.”
“I’m not leaving you. I called for help. He should be here soon.” She covered Grace’s body with her own and never once yelped when hailstones as large as golf balls pummeled her back. Grace, cocooned, under her sister, knew for the first time, that not only did her sister look like Xena, Warrior Princess, but she also had the bravery of the renowned Amazon warrior.
“Grace!” Dominick skidded to a halt, pulled Phoebe off her, offered Phoebe a blanket, and placed one over Grace. He wrapped his arms around her torso and tugged.
“My leg.” Pain knifed through her body.
He set her down gently and lifted at the branch. The branch would not budge. He scanned the surrounding area. Kneeling beside her, he bent next to her ear. “I’m going to need something to pry the tree off you. I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared in the darkness and torrential rain. Phoebe lay next to Grace and covered them both with the blankets.
“Hang in there, Grace.”
She clasped Phoebe’s hand and squeezed it. No words could escape the constriction of her throat.
Before long, Dominick skidded to a halt with a crowbar and a wood block. “Okay, here’s the plan,” he yelled, “I’m going to try to get this branch up a few inches. Phoebe, when I do, you are going to need to pull Grace from under the branch. You will not have a lot of time, do you understand?”
Phoebe moved into position at Grace’s head. Grabbing under Grace’s armpits, she nodded. “Ready.”
Straining with all his might, he leaned on the bar. The block sunk into the soft soil. “Please, God, just a few inches.” He put all his body weight on the crowbar. The block found solid ground and braced itself against the pressure of the crowbar, and inch by inch, the tree lifted.
“Pull, Phoebe,” he grunted through clenched teeth.
Phoebe dug her heels into the sucking mud and pulled. Grace yelped in pain as her leg escaped the tree branch’s grasping limbs. He dropped the branch and reached for her. He lifted her and carried her back to the house. She buried her face in his neck, relishing in the scruffy texture of his shadowed whiskers. Tears of relief flowed over, and her body shook with tremors.
