Tainted by Crazy

by Abby Mccarthy

  I was just about to get into Bertha, when a familiar truck pulled up alongside her. I wanted to hop in and take off without saying anything. Heck, who was I kidding? There was a huge chance that Keenan Rys would have nothing to say to me. I moved to the back of Bertha and popped the trunk, then set the paint can down, all while watching as those Wrangler-clad legs hopped down from the truck. Based on the smudge of dirt across his jeans and the tight T-shirt that had its own share of dirt covering it, he was also busting his butt this morning.

  I closed the trunk and found Keenan Rys’ eyes trained right on me. “Morning,” I gave a small wave and walked over to the driver side.

  “You talking to me now, Maple?”

  I met his eyes. He was standing on the other side of Bertha and something about that rugged hard working look he had going on caused me to blush.

  “Listen I,” I began, but was cut off when he said, “It’s okay, Maple. Friends, I get it.”

  He said this casually, like it was no big deal. I shouldn’t have felt let down by that because after all it was what I wanted wasn’t it, but I did. I gave him a passive smile and got into Bertha.

  “I just finished up my job. Looks like you’re in the thick of one. Need a hand?” he asked. I should’ve said no, but the truth was, I was not as far along as I’d like and I really would like some help.

  “That’d be real nice of you.” I flashed a big smile, a bit too brightly.

  “Good. I need to return something, then I’ll be over.” He seemed pleased with my acceptance of his help. Me, on the other hand; I was scared. What had I agreed too?

  I drove Bertha home and sat back down in the grass with my fresh can of paint stripper and began the grueling job of painting it on and then using my five-in-one to peel it off. The sun was warm, and as the minutes passed, I could tell it was going to be hot today. I wouldn't have that much time outside, before it became too hot to work. I began to hum I Got Friends in Low Places. Once that song was stuck in my head, there was nothing I could do to get it out. I must have been humming, “blues away”, for the tenth time, when Rys pulled up. It didn't occur to me until then, that a lot of time had already passed.

  I paused and watched as Rys rounded his truck, opened the liftgate, climbed up and began unloading equipment.

  I set my tools down, stretched my achy back and walked over to Rys. I peered into the bed of the truck and saw a big piece of equipment. Rys was bent at the waist undoing a strap that was holding it in place. I couldn’t help but ogle him. I mean, he did wear jeans better than any man this side of the Mississippi. He looked up, catching me. My face flushed with embarrassment.

  “Whatcha’ got there?” I asked curiously.

  He slid the equipment to the end of the bed, and then hopped down. I bit my lip and watched with rapt attention the way the muscles in his bicep flexed as he hauled the machine down.

  “Frank, at the hardware store, told me you bought paint stripper and that you were doing this fence by hand. Maple, that will take you forever doing it that way. We should be able to power wash the paint off in a quarter of the time.”

  I had looked up how to remove the paint on YouTube and although a power washer did seem like the better option, it was a tool I couldn't afford. I all but gasped, when I saw the five-hundred and fifty dollar price tag.

  “Thanks,” I smiled brightly and watched his eyes rake over me. I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my cleavage. The sun felt fierce, but I had no doubt that there was more reason than the heat contributing to why I was sweating.

  Rys walked over to me and touched his thumb to my shoulder. His touch sent tingles down my spine. I had no idea what he was doing, but I liked his nearness. It was like all that avoiding him had only intensified my need for him.

  “You’re getting burned. This sun is killer today. Why don't you go inside and get some more sunblock on before you fry.”

  “I never burn. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re pink.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Humor me,” he looked at me in a way that gave me little room for argument.

  “Alright, anything you need?” I relented.

  “Nah, just lead me in the direction for your hose hook-up. Is it in the front or the back of the house?”

  “There’s one on both sides of the house, but the hose is hooked up to the one in the back.”

  “I brought hose.”

  Damn, I suppose he thought of everything. I walked away, swaying my hips hoping he’d notice. I used the bathroom and moved the strap of my tank top to see that I was, in fact, a little burned. I did as he suggested, and added the lotion to my skin.

  When I walked outside, I brought a glass of lemonade out to Rys and was surprised when he was already hard at work. The paint on the fence was washing away. He made eye contact with me and I offered up the glass. He smirked but shook his head and continued to work. I couldn't help but watch him. The way the muscles in his arm rippled and flexed as he held the sprayer and the way those damn Wranglers hugged his thighs, made me stare. I couldn't help it; that was until his eyes caught mine and I knew I was busted. My face flamed in embarrassment, so I decided to busy myself by picking up the paint stripper and the rest of my materials and putting them away, but not before checking out Rys’ behind one last time.

  Two hours passed and every time I glanced out front, I flushed. Watching him work on my fence was sinful. Every glance was a pull to him that became harder and harder to ignore.

  I attempted to help him several times, but quickly saw that using a power washer was a one man job. So, I did what I did, and I got busy baking him a pie. I told myself I was baking as a thank you, but the reality was I needed to keep my mind occupied.

  I was cleaning up my mess, which wasn't much since I had baking pies down to a science, when a throat cleared behind me. I turned from the sink, where I accidentally splashed water on my tank and saw Rys grinning at me. Then his eyes changed. They no longer gleamed; they squinted. His nostrils flared as the look of undeniable lust crossed his face I stared and clenched my jaw together. I wanted to be in his arms and give in to that look. I couldn't even recall why I’d pushed him away.

  “Keenan,” I’d whispered and then gulped sucking in air. My chest felt tight. I wanted him to come to me. I wanted his lips on me. If I was crazy, then I’d be crazy. Only a fool would let Keenan Rys look at her the way he was looking at me, and not do anything about it. I was a lot of things, but a fool wasn’t one of them.

  No sooner did his name leave my lips, my phone started ringing. I ignored it, feeling the pull to Rys. It rang again, and I watched as Rys broke our stare down and retrieved my phone from the counter. Again, his eyes changed. This time, they grew hard, which told me what I was already guessing. It was Bradley. He had been calling me repeatedly. I typically just let it go to voicemail, or told him to leave me alone.

  “Just ignore it,” I prompted,. “He’ll stop eventually,” I muttered the last part under my breath.

  Did he listen? Nope. He hit a button on the phone and said, “You got Rys.”

  “Keenan Rys,” I scolded through gritted teeth. This could only end badly.

  “I’m standing in her kitchen, wondering why you keep ringing her phone and interrupting us.” Uh-oh.. I knew how Bradley was; he wouldn't take to Rys’ harsh tone well. He acted entitled, like no one could take anything from him. When I first met Bradley, I was attracted to how self-assured he seemed. I later learned that pompous was the real word for it.

  Rys went on, “No, you listen to me. You don't get to call her. You messed up, and by messed up, I mean ruined whatever it was you had with her. You fucked that up so badly that the very next day, she came home to a place she’d been avoiding for far too long, and the reason she came here was to get away from you. Now, I don’t...Do not interrupt me.” Rys was quiet for a second. I didn't know what Bradley was saying, but I imagined it wasn't good.

  “You think you’re a man. No man, worth a dick, wou
ld have something as sweet as Maple, and treat it wrong. You ain't a man. If you want to be a man, leave her alone. She’s had enough.” Another pause and I watched Rys’ jaw tick. “It won’t be hard for me to find you. You sure you want to… Right. Well this is done. She’s done. You’re blocked. You come here, I’ll teach you what a man is.” Rys hit a button, pulled it away from his ear and stared at it for a second like he wanted to break it, and then went about hitting other buttons on my phone.

  “I blocked him from being able to call you, but something tells me, you haven't seen the last of him. I gotta tell you, he’s a real jackass. And if he somehow contacts you again, I want you to tell me.”

  This was true, Bradley was indeed a jackass. I nodded because I wasn't sure what else to say. A change of subject was in order. I needed to divert the conversation. “I made pie,” I blurted and quickly began cutting a piece. I plopped it down on a plate and shoved it towards Rys so quickly that his jaw was slack.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I made pie,” I said again, like wasn't it obvious.

  He blinked at me several times, so I handed him a fork and prompted, “Eat.”

  “I just talked to her ex, blocked him from her phone, threatened him, and am seriously considering flying up there to kick his ass, and she offers me pie.”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “Anyone who’s listening; God, Muhammad, Jehovah, whoever you want to call him. Hell, I’d settle for Aphrodite.”

  I shook my head and put a slice of pie on a plate for myself. “Alright. Bradley is Bradley. I already can imagine what spewed out of his mouth. He’s been calling. I don't object to you putting a stop to further calls.”

  I took a bite of my pie while Rys still hadn’t tried the pie. He watched me, so I did the most rational thing and took another bite. “Are you going to try the pie?”

  He shook his head, took a bite and closed his eyes while he ate. When he opened them he grinned. “Sweet. Everything you make is sweet, just like you.”

  My lips parted as if to say, “Oh,” but at the last minute, I said, “You just called me sweet again.”

  He closed the distance between us, and he got so close to me, I thought he was going to kiss me. God, I wanted him to. His hand came up and his thumb moved close to my mouth. I didn’t know what he was doing. His thumb was so close, I could swipe my tongue out and lick him, but then it was gone. I watched, barely breathing as he stuck his thumb into his mouth and sucked. “You had a little pie there. Didn’t want to waste it.”

  My breathing sped up. He was doing something to me. My stomach dipped and I wanted, no I needed, to have his hands on me again.

  “Well, your fence is done. I’m gonna take off.”

  I blinked, then blinked again. Was he serious? He was leaving!

  “You’re leaving?” I asked incredulously.

  He took a huge bite of his piece of pie, almost eating it all in one bite, and I made a mental note to cut him a bigger piece next time. Next time.

  After he finished his bite, he set the plate down on the counter behind me and leaned in close, “I gotta go.” Then, he turned and walked away.

  I woke up the next morning to a strange sound. Unsure of what it was, I threw on a robe. As I descended the stairs, the noise only grew louder. My house looked intact, so I threw open the front door and what I saw shocked me. Rys was crouched low in front of the fence and he was sanding it with an electric sander.

  “What are you doing?” I called out, but he must not have heard me. After the way he left yesterday, waking up to find him hard at work was not what I had expected to find. I marched over to him, not thinking about my morning hair, that was no doubt all over the place, and definitely not thinking about the short silk robe I was wearing.

  I tapped Rys on his shoulder. He turned and looked at me, and when he looked at me, he really looked at me. His eyes roamed every inch of exposed leg and then he grinned; the same grin I was quickly beginning to anticipate. He pressed a button on the sander shutting it off. “What are you doing?” I asked again.

  “Your fence needs to be sanded in a few places before it can be painted.”

  “Okay, but that doesn't explain what you’re doing here.

  “Sure it does.”

  I blinked at him unsure of what to say. Here he was sanding my fence after he basically saved my butt and did most of the work yesterday.

  “You don't have to do that. I can work on it.”

  “What and miss seeing your morning hair and that sexy robe?” he teased.

  I ran my hand over my mop and tried to tame it. Rys chuckled at me, and I wondered if he realized how much he was really affecting me.

  “My hair is not that bad,” I lied, knowing that in the morning it usually took me plenty of time to tame its unruliness. I was met with a smirk, which told me it was that bad. “Oh whatever! What time is it, anyways? It can’t be legal for you to be making all this racket this early.”

  “It’s just past nine, and we don't have any noise ordinances here.”

  I groaned hoping I wasn’t coming off ungrateful. I was grateful, it was just I needed coffee and apparently a hair brush. “I need coffee,” I mumbled.

  “Open the truck, will you?” Rys ordered, setting the sander down and standing up.

  I opened the door to his truck and saw two Styrofoam cups labeled O’Malley’s in a carrier on his seat. I grabbed them both, turned and handed one to Rys.

  “When I stopped in, I mentioned to Carl I was bringing you coffee and so he made this one for you,” he said grabbing the coffee cup that was meant for him.

  I took a sip, and my eyes may have rolled in the back of my head, it was that good.

  “I also may have mentioned that I had your pie last night, and he said he wanted to sell it in the store. I think you should. You’d make a killing.”

  I smiled and took another sip of my coffee that happened to have caramel with a hint of vanilla, just the way I liked it.

  “Oh, my goodness. This is delicious.” I closed my eyes and may have moaned a little. When I opened them, Rys was staring at me, I couldn't miss the tick in his jaw.

  “Now that your love fest with your coffee is over, why don't you sell your pies at O’Malley’s?”

  “Keenan Rys! My hair ain't even brushed, and you want to talk business? No, thank you. I’d much rather enjoy my love fest with my coffee, as you so aptly put it. What are you even doing here anyway? Don't you have a job to do?”

  “I got a few days in between projects. Thought I’d help you out.”

  “I appreciate the help,” I smirked and walked into the house, then rushed to the bathroom mirror to inspect my rat’s nest.

  I sighed at my reflection, I’d definitely seen worse. I splashed water on my face, tied my hair up into a messy bun and then threw on clothes.

  I took a sip of my delicious coffee, and walked out onto the porch. The morning sun was quickly drying the dew on the grass. The air already felt heavy, and I knew today would be a hot one. Rys was crouched low to the ground. His bicep flexed because he was sanding again. I leaned against the flaking porch banister and watched him. He’d occasionally stop and take a sip of his coffee. I could barely make out his eyes from here. They were hiding under his Virginia Tech baseball hat and that fact alone made me want to move closer, but there was something soothing with the hum of his sander being the only noise and the way he moved from one picket to the next. He really was beautiful.

  It didn’t take Rys long to finish. When he clicked off the sander only to find me still watching him, he grinned.

  “You hungry?” I called out.

  “Starved,” he answered walking up the walk.

  “Thank you for your help out there, and for the coffee,” I said as he followed me in the kitchen. He took a seat and watched me as I moved around the kitchen taking out ingredients for biscuits and gravy. It’s really a simple thing to make. In minutes, I had a peppery white gravy filled with
sausage going. Pillsbury biscuits were in the oven and I had eggs scrambling on the stove.

  I felt Rys’ eyes on me as I moved around, but I was in my element.

  “What are you doing working at Iggy’s?” he asked while my back was to him at the stove.

  “What do you mean? I’m making drinks.”

  “Okay, not what I mean. Let’s try this. What did you do before you moved back here?”

  “I was a Nurses aid in a nursing home.” I grabbed a spatula and flipped my eggs around, just as the oven dinged--as if the fresh biscuit smell filling the air wasn't enough to let me know they were done.

  “Did you like it?” he asked.

  “Do you like doing construction?” I answered, not really answering at all.

  I moved about plating the biscuits and pouring the gravy and sausage over them, and then topping them with eggs.

  “I do like it, that’s why I do it. I like using my hands to create something and having something that will last decades upon decades to show for it.”

  I set his plate down in front of him and then sat down across from him with my own. I took a bite and smiled as the peppery gravy ignited every taste bud. Easiest breakfast in fifteen minutes ever.

  “Did you always build things? What did you do in the military?” I asked.

  He sighed and then answered my question. “I started using a hammer as early as three and I was in infantry.” He took a bite and I smiled as I watched his reaction. There was nothing better than making people happy with food.

  “This is really good. Now are you going to answer my question?”

  “Question?”

  He gave me a look that said ‘don’t toy with me’ and I took another bite of food. That made him glare at me.

  “Okay, the nursing home. I’m good at it, so I guess I liked it. It’s work. Nursing homes have a high turnover, so it’s usually not that hard to find a job.”