I agree and she walks me out. There’s everything you could imagine. There are slides, swings, monkey bars, playhouses, bikes, scooters, and sensory tables. There are probably fifteen kids total outside with three adults playing with them and watching to make sure they all behave.
“If you want to follow me back inside, I can show you the kitchen where we prepare the meals.”
The place is clean and nice. Everything seems to have its place, and everyone is friendly and welcoming. I love that they have a set schedule for the kids instead of just letting them run until it’s time for them to go home. Bryce and I hang out a while. He joins in their snack time and then continues to play with the other children his age while I go over some paperwork and get him signed up.
It’s going on dinner time when we’re leaving. I open the door and he climbs inside. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”
“Chicken strips and French fries,” he replies. “And chocolate milk!” Can’t forget the chocolate milk. I swear the kid could live off the stuff.
“To the diner we go.” I climb behind the wheel and back out of the parking lot, heading for the diner.
Six
Clay
“I bet Tessa isn’t going to be happy,” Jerry says, plopping down on my tailgate and grabbing an apple out of my cooler.
“What do you mean?” I ask, tossing a baby carrot into my mouth.
“I mean, it sounds like you got this new woman in your sights. Tessa is used to being the only woman you see.”
I laugh. “I don’t have anyone in my sights. You couldn’t be any further off.”
He snorts. “Then why didn’t you get in the van with her?”
“What?” I jerk my head toward him. He’s fucking smirking, enjoying my annoyance. “Because there was no point. With no water or power, trying to get started would be impossible.”
He nods. “Riiiight.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I shove his bicep, causing him to fall over slightly. “And give me my apple.” I take it from his hands and throw it into the distance.
“Hey,” he whines.
“Next time, be more supportive.”
He rolls his eyes, but he can’t hold back the laugh. “So what did Tessa have to say? Did you tell her yet?”
“Tell her what?”
“That you want to break things off so you can start something up with this new woman.”
“What? No! I’m not starting anything with anyone. Plain and simple. This woman has a son. A little son. No way am I going to force myself into their life when I have no intention of staying. That’s why Tessa and I have such a good thing going. Her son is older. He doesn’t even know about me and soon, he’ll be going off to college anyway. No complications.”
“So you’re just going to ignore your attraction to Autumn then?”
“Damn straight.”
He shakes his head and stands up. “That is sure to backfire, my friend.” Without another word, he walks toward the ranch house we’re working on.
Is he right? Am I going to fail miserably? I don’t think so. I’m not a weak man. I’m not the type that finds a beautiful woman and suddenly loses all control. I laugh at my two brothers who have gone through that. I’m nothing like them. I will keep myself guarded. I will keep my distance. And I will finish this job without ever feeling her against me.
It takes about a week before the house is inspected and the water and power are turned on. I pack up my truck with the items I’ll need for the day, leaving the trailer with the other guys to finish up the ranch house. I know I should, but I don’t bother calling Autumn. I know I said I would, but this will go so much quicker without her.
When I pull into the dirt drive, I find that Autumn has already been here. The front yard has been mowed, bricks have been laid down for a sidewalk, and she’s planting flowers and shrubs in front of the porch now. She’s down on her hands and knees, perched on a piece of foam. She’s wearing a pair of short jean shorts that are frayed on the ends. They hug her round ass nicely.
She looks over her shoulder and finds me behind the wheel of the truck, staring. She offers a small grin and waves her dirty, gloved hand in my direction.
I climb out and head over.
“What do you think so far?”
I nod and look at all her hard work. “Looks good. You did all of this yourself?”
She nods and stands up, removing her gloves. It’s only now that I take her in fully. She’s wearing a white White Sox T-shirt. It’s old and thin, allowing me to see the faintest outline of her white bra beneath it. I’m sure she chose it because she didn’t care to ruin it, but damn, I wonder if she knew how badly this would tease me. She has it tied up just above her belly button, giving a slight glimpse of her toned, flat, tanned stomach. Her dark hair is pulled into a messy bun, that’s sticking out the hole in the back of her hat. Her face is completely bare of makeup, something I find refreshing in a world where almost every woman cakes their face in it. There’s the slightest glimmer of sweat peppering her skin, making it light up and shine.
“It was nothing. I always did the yard work back home.”
“In Ohio?” I ask.
She quickly nods once and then changes the subject. “I was hoping that planting these wouldn’t mess with any of your plans. You think they’ll be okay?”
I look at the line of shrubs and flowers. “I’m sure we can avoid them if need be. You know, I would’ve helped had I known you’d been out here working.”
She waves me off. “I’m too impatient to wait for anyone else. I need this place done. So I just made a list of things I could do without power and water.” She moves her head from side to side. “I’ve been watering them with bottled water. I’ve been thinking that it would be super cute if we could fence in the front yard with a white picket fence. Then do an archway over the sidewalk? What do you think?” She looks at me, squinting at the bright sun.
I nod. “Yeah, sounds good. You’ll need a sign too. I’ll get the guys started on it as soon as they finish up their current project. Anyway, I got all the paint supplies if you want to get started. Did you pick out the color paint you want?”
“Follow me.” She starts toward the house.
I follow her into the living room and on the largest wall, she has painted squares in a variety of colors.
“What do you think? I want it to be clean and crisp and classy, but I don’t want it to be blinding white either. I was thinking this eggshell looked good, but I don’t know.”
I look at each of the colors. The eggshell is a nice off-white color, but damn near white. In fact, it would look white if it wasn’t for the bright white painted next to it.
“I like this one,” I say, pointing to a very light cream color.
“That’s Sandy Beach. I liked it too.”
“I think it will look nice next to the dark walnut colored trim. It will be a stark contrast.”
“Okay, Sandy Beach it is. I’ll run to town and grab the paint, and you can get everything set up while I’m gone. It should only take a few minutes.” She quickly leaves the house, and I’m left wondering how she’s the one to call the shots.
While she’s gone, I toss out the tarp and get everything ready to go. I check the water in the kitchen and the hose on the side of the house. The water is clean, to my surprise. I was expecting rusty water, considering the pipes in this place have to be pretty old. As I’m walking around the house, I find her van back in the drive. I walk over and take the two gallons of paint she’s holding.
“I figured we’d probably end up painting most of the house this color, so I got plenty.”
I look into the back of the van and see a total of six gallons. I take two more and she carries the final two into the house.
“Everything is set up and ready to go. Are you a roller or a trimmer?” I ask, setting the four gallons of paint in the floor.
She scrunches up her nose and places her hands on her hips. “Either, I guess.” She shrugs.
I hand her the roller and I keep the brush to do the trim, considering I have more practice with this sort of thing.
By the time I manage to have the trim taped off, she’s managed to paint the entire room, all but about an inch above and blow the trim.
“Damn, I didn’t realize you were a speed painter,” I joke, bending down and picking up the brush to start painting. “This would’ve been a lot faster had I brought the spray gun.”
“You have a spray gun?” she asks, almost sounding annoyed.
I laugh. “I do, but the guys are using it at the ranch house. They’re on the home stretch, so this will probably be the only room we have to paint without it.”
“Got another brush? I’ll help you trim.” She places the roller onto the paint pan.
I nod toward the bag in the corner of the room and get started.
As we paint, I can’t keep my eyes to myself. I can’t help but watch as she crouches down low, bends over, and crawls along the wall to paint the bottom trim. Her long, tanned legs and round ass tease me all damn day.
The sun is just starting to go down when we’re finishing up. I head outside to wash everything out with the hose and when I walk back in, she’s standing in the middle of the room, taking in all our hard work.
I freeze when her eyes land on mine. I can see something burning beneath them. If I’m right, it’s lust.
“I love it,” she breathes out. Her plump lips are parted, and her chest is rising and falling quickly. I feel this tug in my lower stomach, pulling me toward her. It feels like we’re connected by an elastic band. The harder I fight against it, the tighter the hold becomes.
I clear my throat, which was growing thick with need. “Just wait until the fireplace and floor are all shined up.” I bend down and set the clean paint pan and brushes down.
“It can’t get here fast enough.” She slides her hands into her back pockets and walks out. I follow her and I take a seat on the porch.
“Want some iced tea?”
“Sure.” She sits next to me. Keeping her feet on the step beneath her, she rests her elbows on her bent knees.
I grab a paper cup out of the stack on the side of the cooler and get out the gallon jug. I fill two cups and hand her one.
She takes a sip. “Mmm, this is good. Did you make it?”
I nod. “I make a gallon every evening.” I turn and open the cooler back up. I pull out two sandwiches. I hold one out and she takes it. I watch as she takes a bite.
“Your wife is a lucky woman.” She nods while chewing her bite.
I chuckle around a bite. “I’m not married.”
“Oh, I just assumed a good-looking, hardworking guy like you would be taken.” I see her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink. Is she hitting on me? Naaah, there’s no way a beautiful woman like her could be interested in a guy like me.
“No, it’s never been in the cards for me.”
“Why not?” She cocks her head to the side as her eyes study me.
I clear my throat and pull my eyes from hers, unsure of how to answer her.
“That’s none of my business. I’m sorry for being so forward.”
I wave her off. “Don’t worry about it.” I take a bite of my sandwich and slowly chew it. “The fireplace has been inspected. Tomorrow, we can do the second coat of paint, polish up the fireplace, and start on the floor.”
She smiles sweetly. “Thanks for letting me help. It really means a lot. I know how much of a hassle this has to be for you.”
I shrug, trying to remain nonchalant “It’s nothing.”
There’s a long drawn out silence, and it feels like something is being exchanged between us. Friendship? Understanding? I’m not sure, but it feels as if we’re connecting on a deeper level—a level that has far surpassed where I thought we’d ever be. Deep down, this worries me, but it also fills me with a warmth I don’t understand.
Most of my life has been spent trying to avoid relationships and deep connections. I saw the way losing my mom ate at my dad—so much so that he’s no longer the man I once knew. I never want to be that dependent on another person. Maybe this warmth is the first sign of a connection. A connection I don’t want.
She somehow picks up on my internal struggle. She offers up a weak smile. “Well, thanks for the sandwich and all your work today. I really need to go pick up my son from daycare.” She stands up. She’s holding her paper cup and plastic sandwich bag in one hand and holds the other one out to shake.
I put my hand inside of hers and once again, those tingles take over. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She nods. “First thing.” Without another word, she takes her hand and turns for the van. I stand there, watching her drive away.
Fuck, she’s beautiful. How am I going to hold myself back? Well, I know one thing: checking her out every time she bends over isn’t going to help anything. I need to keep my eyes to myself and my hands off of her. She’s too complicated for me—too much work and trouble.
I pack up the rest of my things and head out for the night. I intend on going home but end up stopping by Drake’s since it’s on the way. When I pull into his drive, the barn door is open. I see Celeste out in the field on her horse. I find Drake in the barn, cleaning out the horse’s stall.
“Hey, man. What brought you by?” he asks.
“I got a job close by. You were along the way, so I figured I’d stop and see how things are going.”
He snorts. “I figured you wouldn’t go out of your way to stop by,” he jokes.
I wave him off.
“What’s new? Where’s this job?”
“Out on Madison Lane. It’s that old farmhouse up on the hill.”
“Oh, right. That’s a nice piece of property. I’m glad someone finally bought it.”
I nod. “It’s a woman from Ohio. She just moved here to open it as a bed-and-breakfast.”
“Nice.”
I nod, refusing to say anything, but he must read it all over my face.
He smiles wide. “You like this woman. It’s not a question. It’s a statement. I wonder if she reads me this well. Fuck, I hope not.
I laugh and shake my head. Running my hand over my face, I attempt to wipe away the anxiety. “Why would you say something like that?”
He tosses the pitchfork down and comes to stand in front of me. He leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, you stopped by here out of the blue. That makes me wonder if you’re not looking for some advice. Then you just volunteer information about this new woman in town. I know I’m not the smartest guy, but I can put two and two together.” He grins. “So, what’s she look like?”
I let out a long breath. “She’s tall and thin—got legs for days. She has long, dark hair and these green eyes that remind of fresh grass in the springtime.” Already, I feel myself dazing off as I describe her.
He whistles at her description.
“But she’s got a five-year-old son.”
“So? You like kids.”
I snort. “I get along with kids. That’s different than liking them.”
He waves his hand through the air, dismissing my last statement. “I don’t know who’s chain you’re trying to pull, but I know you. You like kids.” He laughs. “Hell, knowing you, you probably already got something up your sleeve to do for him. Let me guess…” He puts his finger on his chin. “Swing set?”
I just look at him, giving him the death glare.
“No, tree house!”
My head lulls to the side. “Fuck off. Just because I like kids doesn’t mean I want to get mixed up with one. This isn’t just some random woman, Drake. She’s a woman with complications. I don’t want to butt my way into her life and screw things up for her kid, you know?”
He nods. “Kids do complicate things, but look how it turned out for Colton and Brennan. That worked out great.”
I snort. “Yeah, but Colton didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, and all women love kids.
That’s far off from me. I’ve never wanted that life.”
He rolls his eyes. “I think you need to look deep inside yourself. Maybe you don’t know yourself as well as you think, Clay.”
Is he right? Is there something beneath the surface of my consciousness that even I don’t know about?
Seven
Autumn
Walking away from him today seemed strange. I couldn’t help but feel this pull between us. Every time I’d look over at him, I’d find him watching me. His eyes would darken and become hooded. His jaw would flex, and his Adam’s apple would bob in his throat. His entire body would harden like he was holding something back. I know, based on the look on his face, that he’s attracted to me. And if I was a normal woman with a normal life, I would make a move on him—even if it wouldn't have led to anything serous. But I’m not a normal woman. I’m a broken woman that’s running from her abusive husband. I’m a woman who has a five-year-old little boy to think about. My life is complicated, and it wouldn’t be fair to bring someone else into it.
Even though I know I can never let myself get close to him, I want to picture a normal life for myself. I can see us working together and getting close on the farm. I can see an innocent love bloom from friendship and trust. I can see him nervously asking me on a date. I can see the way my hands would shake when he’d pull me against his firm chest on the dance floor. I can feel the moment his lips meet mine. From there, we’d have all the usual firsts a couple has. First time in bed, marriage, kids, anniversaries…it all seems so perfect. Too perfect. My life is anything but and probably won’t be anything special for a while.
I pull into the daycare and pick Bryce up before heading to the diner for dinner. We sit in our usual booth, and he orders spaghetti while I get a burger. We talk about what all he did at daycare, and he even asks me how the house is coming along. This boy is only five and already, he’s better at conversation than most full-grown men. When we finish up, we pay our ticket and head for the van. We each load up and I drive us through town toward the motel we’re staying in. As I’m passing by the bar, I notice Clay’s truck. I slow down, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection Page 44
