Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. I don’t know.”

  “Do you want all your floors messed up at the same time, or do you want to leave a room to live in?”

  “Good point.” She shifted from one foot to the other and fingered the end of the leash nervously. “How long will I have to stay off them?”

  “That depends on how much work they need, and what you want to do with them.”

  She nodded, completely unsure about the floors and distracted by the way the sun glistened across his blue-black hair. He smiled reassuringly and her heart did a little flip-flop, causing panic and bewilderment to surge in her chest.

  Silence stretched between them and Julia swallowed the growing lump in her throat, the sun turning uncomfortably warm on her shoulders. Chad appeared to be content to stand and stare at her, watching her fall to pieces. Sweat beaded on her brow, and she didn’t know if it was because of the sun or Chad’s scrutiny.

  Chad’s voice, deep and smooth, interrupted her misery. “How about I come by tonight and take a look at them, and we’ll come up with a plan?”

  Holding up a hand to block the sun, Julia searched his eyes and found glimmers of interest and hunger. Tingles ran along her spine and she stepped back, dropping her hand to rub her upper arm, her eyes on Ringo. Firmly shutting down any natural response, she quickly cleared and shuttered her expression, then looked back up to stare slightly over his left shoulder. “That would be fine. What time?”

  He paused, a muscle working in his jaw, disappointment stamped across his face. Finally, he spoke, his voice crisp and clipped. “I could be there at eight.”

  “Fine, eight o’clock then.” Turning to go, she had to tug the leash as Ringo pawed at Chad’s jeans. “Come along, Ringo.”

  * * *

  With a scowl creasing his forehead, Chad stepped back to discourage the dog and watched as Julia crossed the street. The woman drove him insane. What was it about her that made him want to scoop her up and kiss her senseless?

  He’d sworn to stay away from her but when she’d asked him about the floors, her eyes dark with questions, her curls dancing in the breeze, he’d jumped at the chance to run right back to her house. Yet, the second the words were out of his mouth, she’d turned ice cold.

  He yanked the mower around and pushed it stubbornly across the gravel parking lot, grumbling under his breath. He should stick with girls like Gloria who were easy to read, easy to understand, just... easy.

  Tonight, he’d go over there and look at Julia’s floors but that was it. He’d had enough.

  * * *

  Checking her phone to see the time, Julia grimaced. It had been two minutes since the last time she checked. Tucking the phone back into her pocket, she shifted in the wicker porch chair and lifted her book to read the same paragraph for the third time.

  The sun was beginning to dim, bringing the day to a close. Julia’s all-time favorite Beatles song played on the boombox in the house, bleeding strains of Something in the Way She Moves across the porch. George lifted his head in the chair next to her and regarded her thoughtfully with his unblinking yellow cat eyes, then settled back into his nap.

  Ringo barked and Julia glanced up expecting to see Chad, but the dog only barked at a bird hopping across the shadow-filled lawn. “Shush, boy,” she mumbled, returning to her book. Reading was still a chore some days, and evidently, today was one of those days.

  Closing her book with a thump, she rested her head on the back of the chair and stared at the porch ceiling, willing the music to relax her.

  “Another thing that needs paint,” she noted with a sigh. The list was endless. She’d spent the afternoon with Mac as he explained her options and costs for moving the plumbing. Her notebook was full of household problems that needed attention.

  He’d listened as she described the oven she wanted, and then he’d called Tara to ask about the measurements of the stove so he could run the gas line.

  He’d also worked downstairs laying out a plan for the new plumbing and put together a bid list and sketches for the city to approve. Work could begin in a few days. In the meantime, he’d go measure the stove, and she needed to agree to the kitchen layout so Steve, the electrician, and all-around handyman, could place the new electrical plugs to meet code. She hated the thought of cutting holes in the back of the hutches for outlets, but code stated specific requirements for electrical and she didn’t have many options.

  The costs he had quoted weren’t astronomical, but she wouldn’t be able to keep spending money on the needy house without careful planning. She needed to supplement her income, and she needed it soon. Feelings of inadequacy flooded her system, choking any glimmer of self-confidence she may have nurtured. How could she work when half the time she couldn’t remember what she was saying, let alone have enough stamina to get to a job on a daily basis.

  Ringo barked and ran across the lawn to meet Chad, chasing circles around the man’s feet and leaping in the air. The dog was obviously happy to see him. Chad must have walked over because his truck was nowhere in sight.

  Julia stood and laid her book in the chair. Chad was wearing his usual jeans, but tonight he had on a short sleeve, button up shirt and he’d shaved. He bent to play with Ringo, ruffling his ears. Then he stood, raising his arms, encouraging the little dog to leap high into the air. He laughed and the dog barked happily, the sight and sound filling an unknown void in Julia’s chest.

  The man looked good, Julia had to admit, fighting hard to push back a grin. Something about the way he strode across the lawn was purely masculine, almost predatory. Or was that her? With her senses on alert, as if she were in danger, she watched him approach.

  As he got closer, she could smell his aftershave wafting on the breeze. The scent immediately took her back, and she was standing before him in a Prada dress and $200 heels, her makeup flawless, with her Gucci bag clutched in one hand.

  “Hi,” Chad said, his head tilting at her odd expression. “You okay?”

  Slammed back into real time, her head spinning, Julia reached for the porch column to steady herself. Her hand missed the column, and she lurched toward Chad, her eyes huge and vacant.

  He reached for her, circling her with his arms as she sagged against him, her face buried in his chest. “Julia, Julia?” Grappling for a handhold on her back as she sagged against him, he tried again. “Are you okay?” he asked over the top of her head.

  Julia’s world slowly stopped spinning, and the soft cotton of Chad’s shirt against her cheek was the first thing she comprehended. He smelled so good. She could feel his powerful arms around her, creating a sensation she’d not experienced in... ever.

  She was safe, finally safe, and relief poured through her system, bottomless and sweet. For a long moment, she drowned in the sensation, reveling in the warmth and softness of it.

  Chad loosened his grip as she curled into him, her hands grasping at his shirt. He spread his hands across her back, one sliding up to the back of her neck and into the curls at her nape.

  How had she forgotten what the human touch felt like? Julia wondered hazily. Not the touch of a healthcare professional, but a touch of a person reaching out to pull her close. Had she ever enjoyed the feel of a man’s fingers on the sensitive skin at the base of her neck? Surely, she must have but she couldn’t remember it, nor could she remember ever drowning in the need to be wanted, cared for, like she did now.

  She comprehended enough of her old self to know that other people’s needs had not particularly concerned her, and to suddenly understand how much a person could long for human contact was a crushing and eye-opening realization. How had she moved blindly through the world with no idea how people felt? How she felt?

  As rushing, tumbling emotions evolved into actual thoughts, and reality focused in her mind, unrelenting fear surged back to the surface and rolled down her throat, thick and dark. The only way she knew to gain control of her dread was to make all feeling stop, and it must stop now. She couldn’t take an
y more.

  “Julia? Julia! Talk to me, please.”

  Struggling for some semblance of sanity, she shuffled her rubberized legs and attempted to stand.

  Chad relaxed his grip, his fingers barely in contact with her skin, one hand still cupping the back of her neck.

  She tipped her chin up, and as Chad’s gaze searched her face, Julia was surprised to see concern etched across his features.

  His expression softened and his other hand tightened around her back. The apprehension surging through Julia’s system hit a boiling point. Tension liquefied into sexual heat, draining her mind of coherent thought, causing her knees to go weak all over again.

  She moaned, suspended in the moment, then gasped raggedly as reality finally clanged through her skull. This was Chad, the man she didn’t want close! As she stiffened and jerked back, pushing at his chest, she felt him reel in shock as he released her.

  Staring at him, her eyes large and her chest heaving, she grasped for words. “Wha—” she muttered, her lips trembling.

  His eyes searched hers. “Are you okay? I thought you passed out for a second.”

  She stumbled back, her hands batting frantically at his, desperate to be away from him and reestablish her equilibrium. Ringo pranced around her feet, whining in concern.

  It had finally happened, she’d completely lost it, and in front of someone. Someone who didn’t understand, who had no idea what was wrong with her. What must he think?

  * * *

  Chad stared at Julia, one hand still hovering in the air toward her, in case she was still unsteady. Her face showed no emotion, but only moments ago he’d been stricken to see every expression in the book cross her face -- confusion, longing, fear, warmth, revelation, anger. Now, however, she stood breathless in front of him, wearing only the closed, cool expression she always wore.

  Was he crazy, or had she just been nuzzled against his chest, moaning as he ran his fingers through her hair?

  He’d known she was petite, but in his grasp, she’d been positively tiny, delicate, and fragile. She was so small that she fit under his chin, and he had felt each vertebra in her back.

  He frowned and stared down at her. The second she’d softened in his arms, he’d gone from zero to oil-well explosion, in fractions of a second, and he worked now to battle the blaze.

  Searching her eyes for an explanation of her behavior, he checked down the mental list of all he knew about her. She came from New York, lived here alone, she had a dog, a cat, that was it. Was she diabetic?

  “Are you still dizzy? Do you need sugar or something?” he asked.

  Her blocked and vacant expression didn’t falter. “No, I’m fine now, thank you. Shall we look at the floors?”

  Wanting only to sweep her up and drag her into the house, he felt disappointment roaring through his system. Had she really been in his arms? She certainly showed no sign of wanting him now. Was he losing his mind? He shook his head. “Sure.”

  She opened the screen and stepped gracefully, with those measured steps of hers, into the house. He followed, nearly tripping on George as the cat trotted through the door.

  * * *

  Julia led the way down the narrow hall to the kitchen with Ringo beside her. Her hands were shaking and her knees weak. She could still feel Chad’s hands warm on her back, and she knew the sensation would stay on her mind for days. The only people to touch her, for almost a year, had offered a hand to steady her or examine her but no one had held her like that, felt the shape of her body against his, or run his fingers through her hair. How had she forgotten the intensity, the power, of a man?

  Thinking back, she recalled that Brad had sat by her hospital bed and held her hand, speaking in a low voice. She could remember some of his words and a few sensations, but the memory was distant, patchy, and vague, like a dream the next morning. Not remembering his goodbye was most likely a blessing. She had no recollection of sex with her husband beyond impressions and hazy snapshots – nothing like this.

  In the kitchen, Julia stared out the window for a long moment, willing her heart to stop pounding in her ears. She glanced down and realized she was rubbing the side of her left hand. Taking a deep breath, she shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and turned to face Chad.

  He stood in the doorway with one hand on the doorjamb, watching her, the cat winding around his ankle. She was shocked to realize that her first impulse was to run to him, reach for him, then smooth her hands across his chest and up to his jaw. Her eyes widened. Then just as quickly, she tore her gaze away and glanced at the floor. “Where do we start?”

  One eyebrow rose, but Chad didn’t say anything about the scene on the porch. He wandered to one corner of the room, his gaze finally breaking from her to crouch and inspect the floor, George at his side. “I see you’ve had someone replace floor boards. It looks like they did a good job, but it may be a little tricky to match the stain perfectly between the new wood and the old.” His hand absently scratched George’s head as he spoke.

  She shrugged.

  “You really don’t know what you want to do, do you?”

  “I know I want them to look better than this.”

  “Right, right,” he said touching a gap between the old boards.

  She didn’t know what to say so she remained silent.

  He glanced up at her. “How do you want them to look when they’re finished?”

  Her eyes darted from him to the floor and back. “I don’t know.”

  He stood and brushed his hands together, then crossed the room to stand in front of her, his eyes searched hers.

  She kinked her head back, both hands still tucked in her back pockets, her gaze glued to his. Heat rolled off his body, dousing her, soaking her to the skin. Her knees went soft, causing rage over her weakness to blossom in the back of her heart. For some incomprehensible reason, her eyes burned, and she wanted to cry.

  Wordlessly, he asked her why he was there, what it was she really wanted.

  How could she tell him she wanted only to hide from the world and never feel anything, ever again? But it was already too late.

  Cramming his hands in his pockets, Chad watched through falling shadows as Julia closed up tight. He’d resolved to help her, and he would be true to his word. But even through the dimming light and sexual frustration, he knew that thinking he just wanted to help her was a lie. He might not understand anything about the woman standing before him, but God help him, he couldn’t stay away from her, and he wasn’t thinking about charity.

  “So, you think we can stain it?” Julia asked.

  Searching her cool features and jutting chin, he sighed. “Yeah, they’ll be fine.”

  With her carefully constructed expression firmly in place, Julia heaved an inner sigh of relief. “I appreciate that. So, what do we do first?”

  Chapter Six

  Chad stalked through the dark toward the delivery service. Julia hadn’t had any idea what she wanted done with her floors but after he’d explained her options, she’d decided to just sand and stain them. She evidently liked imperfection. In her floors, anyway.

  Grumbling, he unlocked the office door, stepped in and flipped the dead bolt behind him. Striding across the room, he headed up the back stairs to his apartment. The door at the top of the stairs closed with a bang as he tossed his keys on the wobbly end table. Ten steps later he yanked open his fridge door.

  Two beers in the cardboard carton, a bottle of mustard, and two old takeout boxes glowed naked on the rusty fridge shelves. With a beer in his hand, he slammed the fridge closed, and on the edge of the chipped, laminate counter, popped the bottle top off with his fist.

  Drops of condensation appeared and rolled down the bottle as he tipped it up once, then twice. Leaning his hip against the counter, he stared through the dark, curtainless window, into the moonlit night.

  Julia had ruled his thoughts for days but now that he’d touched her, held her, it was a hundred times worse. He should have taken
the clues she’d been tossing him all along and stayed away from her, but no, he’d had to grab her. Snorting, he lifted the bottle and drank deep, then lowered it and frowned. Okay, he technically hadn’t been required to catch her before she fell but—yeah, he pretty much had been forced to catch her—but that wasn’t the point.

  The empty beer bottle thumped onto the counter, and he stalked across the room to toss the sofa cushions onto a chair and tug open the sofa bed. Irritation radiated off him in waves as he surveyed his sorry sleeping situation. Julia’s old bed stacked high with ruffled white pillows came to mind, and in response, he yanked his shirt over his head with a huff, tearing off two buttons that spun and rolled across the cracked and curling green linoleum floor.

  He’d never been so torn up over a woman – what was his problem? He’d dated, had a few laughs, and whatever else he’d needed, then moved on. Not that he treated women badly, he assured himself. He opened doors, bought dinner, and was considerate. He’d certainly never pressured a woman to give anything she didn’t offer willingly. So, what was up now? Why did Julia have him stepping all over himself to be close to her when she wanted no part of it?

  He hadn’t always been cavalier about women. As a kid, running wild through Smithville with his partner in crime, William, he’d experienced the deep and passionate pangs of puppy love. Even in college he figured someday he’d get married and have a family of his own. But since the accident, all that had changed. He no longer wanted anyone in his personal space.

  Falling in love would mean opening himself up, sharing everything. It would mean responsibility, and he had enough of that now, taking care of Bobby and his mother. He didn’t want anything to do with a woman who wanted babies and houses and minivans and... him.