by Tasha Black
“We’ve got it rigged up for now, but you’ll want to bring in someone who knows what they’re doing,” Ethan explained.
“That’s very kind,” Rachel said. “What do I owe you?”
“You don’t owe us anything, Rachel,” he told her warmly. “We’re volunteers.”
“Well, I’ll make a donation to the firehouse,” Rachel said, smiling back politely and trying not to think about the fact that Ethan had recently married into the Harkness family.
“Do you have someone to call about the roof?” Ethan asked gently.
Out of the frying pan…
“I was thinking about calling your brother-in-law, actually,” she admitted.
“That’s a good idea,” Ethan said. He looked like he was trying to hide a smile.
“What’s so funny?” Rachel demanded.
“Nothing,” Ethan said. “He’ll take good care of you.”
“Thank you again for your help,” Rachel told him.
When they had all gone, she slid her cell phone out of her pocket and texted Jack Harkness.
* * *
Rachel:
Hi, Jack. You were right about my roof. Can we set a time to go over next steps?
* * *
The bells tinkled and she looked up to see Jack striding in.
“Wow, that was fast,” she told him.
“I was already on my way,” Jack replied. “Ethan texted me when he got the call about your place. I’m really sorry to hear what happened.”
Damn him. His eyes were so serious and soulful. He was just so earnest.
And so hot.
Don’t watch the snowflakes melting in his dark hair. Don’t look at the way his jeans hug his narrow hips.
“It’s fine,” Rachel said as contritely as she knew how. “You told me yesterday that the tarp wouldn’t hold. You were right.”
She could just slap him for practically saying I-told-you-so. But she needed his help so she’d better keep her claws in.
“I’ve got a friend coming to help me out,” he said. “We’re going to secure the tarp and then gut the drywall.”
“Look, I get it, I know I’m screwed,” Rachel said. “But we haven’t even talked about a price.”
“Listen, Rachel,” he said. “I worked up some numbers for you last night. It’s not typed up on letterhead or anything but at least you can look it over and start thinking.”
He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over.
“Today is on me,” he said. “Me and my guy will give you a day’s work on the house, so you don’t have to worry about further damage.”
Wow.
Rachel casually glanced at the handwritten page.
It was barely more than half of the amount Crool had quoted.
“No,” she said. She did not want to owe him anything. “I’ll hire you for the whole job and pay you for all of it. But you can’t do anything today except re-secure the tarp. It’s my busy season.”
The normally light-hearted Jack clenched his jaw until the muscle rippled.
Rachel felt that she was literally watching him swallow down his first response and search for a gentler one.
“Rachel,” he said, “a lot of snow got into the property last night.”
“Yes,” she said.
“It’s already begun to melt,” he went on. “And as it melts it soaks into everything it touches. Today you have wet drywall. But what do you think will happen to that drywall if you leave it wet, with the warmth from the store seeping into that space?”
Oh.
“You’re worried about mold,” she said.
“I’m worried about mold,” he agreed. “I’m also worried about structure. The interior ceilings, the framing - none of these things were made to hold snow. You need a cleanup and you need it today. And you need a roof - a real roof, because it’s going to be snowing again soon.”
Rachel sighed and ran a hand through her hair.
“It’s going to be okay,” Jack’s voice moved through the distance between them, caressing her as surely as if he’d wrapped his arms around her.
“Okay,” she relented. “I guess you should gut it and roof it.”
“I’ll start right away,” he told her, that deep voice making her feel all tingly inside again. “I’ll do a good job, don’t worry.”
That wasn’t what she was worried about, not even a little bit.
She was worried that she would fall for the big hunk with the kind heart and the sexy voice. And that was not on the schedule.
“See that you do,” she said coldly, turning on her heel. “I’ve got to open up shop now.”
She marched over to the cash register and began her daily routine to open the store.
But she could feel him watching after her and somehow she could still feel the heat pouring off that big body.
Ignore him, Rachel. He’s just here to do a job. So are you. Don’t get in each other’s way.
6
Jack
Jack peeled off his filthy work clothes and pulled on a pair of sweats.
The old barbershop space he was working on for Rachel was absolutely disgusting. He’d never worked so hard in his life, and he was only getting started.
He and his helper had started at the top and worked their way down through layers of soaked and snowy drywall and carpeting and plaster. The dumpster out back of the shops was nearly full after a day’s work.
Every part of Jack was sore.
But he felt fantastic. This was what he had wanted, a chance to prove himself.
If only…
If only Rachel DelGato weren’t such an ice queen.
Everyone had always said that about her, but Jack had never seen her that way.
Now he was killing himself to help her, doing a renovation practically at cost, and she was acting mean, entitled and horrible.
He might not have felt so bad about it, except that for whatever reason, his foolish body was wild for her. The scent of her, the feel of her fingertip brushing his, the movement of her earrings against her neck, every detail had him almost frantic to touch her, to kiss that haughty look off her pixie face and make her scream with pleasure.
He felt like he was fourteen again and he’d just seen her for the first time. Just like then, his palms were sweating, his heart was racing and his body throbbed and ached with unmet need.
And his wolf wasn’t helping matters. It had never been so close to the surface before. He felt like it was straining against the magic that had held it in check for so long, like it could sense the approach of his three-hundredth moon, taste its impending freedom.
He was amped up enough that he needed to run in spite of the fact that he was already sore and exhausted from the day’s manual labor.
The wolf paced and chuffed inside his chest.
He strode across the floor of his tiny apartment and left from the fire escape off the kitchen.
That was the best part about the attic he rented from Mrs. Robson’s place on Harvard Avenue - it backed up to the woods, and he was able to use the fire escape as a private entrance.
He jogged down the stairs and headed right into the trees.
He knew he would soon be able to transform into a wolf again, as he had done when he was a kid.
Back then he had paid the price for being different. His mom, who until that day had spent her hours dreamily planning out his piano and soccer schedules, and who thought everything he did was art, was horrified when he shifted into a wolf for the first time.
True to her type-A personality, she had buckled down and quietly done her homework about her child’s condition. When she learned there was a farm in Pennsylvania where parents could ditch their unwanted shifter children, she’d driven him straight there without even letting him pack up any of his stuff.
He could still see her small, straight form standing in the gravel driveway under the sycamores. She hadn’t even walked him to the door.
“Jack, we’re
from different worlds,” she’d said crisply in lieu of good-bye.
“Please don’t leave me here, Mom,” he begged.
“You’ll be fine,” she said over her shoulder as she got back in the car. “You don’t need me.”
He watched her car until it disappeared.
Then he heard footsteps and felt a warm hand close over his shoulder.
“You must be Jack,” a woman’s voice said. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He had turned to see the warm smile of a woman in a messy apron he now thought of as his mother. She was solidly built with long blonde curls and blue eyes that were perpetually crinkled up from her smile.
“Oh dear,” Kate said, “I’m covered in gingerbread, aren’t I? Please come in, we can use an extra pair of hands with these cookies. I seem to have gotten in over my head.”
Kate Harkness made no remark about his lack of possessions, or the fact that Jack was nearly silent for the first few months of his time with her. She fed him, dressed him and put him to work on the farm doing interesting chores with the other kids and praising him lavishly for his efforts until at last he felt at home.
That very first night though, after he had eaten gingerbread until he thought his stomach would burst, Jack was introduced to Kate’s friend Gloria, a tiny older woman with dark hair and features.
Gloria had sung a little song over him. He was so sleepy by then that he didn’t remember any of the words, only that her song filled him with peace.
It turned out the song was a magical spell, one intended to cage his shifter animal for three hundred moons, at which point he would be better equipped to handle it.
He was glad if the spell meant his wolf couldn’t harm anyone, but he had never expected the wolf wanted to harm anyone.
And the longer he went without his wolf, the more Jack longed for him.
The time was finally arriving. Jack was excited that his other half would soon be free.
And Jack’s upcoming transformation meant that Ainsley Connor and Erik Jensen, the alphas of the Tarker’s Hollow wolf pack, would be along sooner or later to try and bring him into the fold.
Jack was both terrified and delighted at the idea. He considered himself a farm boy, and there were some pretty fancy-pants people in the Tarker’s Hollow pack. On the other hand, the idea of running through these woods as a wolf, with his brethren by his side, was delicious.
For now though, Jack ran alone, as he always had. The cold air felt good in his lungs and he tore along at a pretty good pace, enjoying the scents of the woods and the village beyond.
His wolf was near, prickling just below the surface of his skin, nosing the night air for the soft haze of moonlight.
Soon, boy, soon.
The adrenaline began to hit and Jack lost himself in the rhythm of his own feet pounding the fragrant soil
Before he knew it, he was back at the house.
He climbed the fire escape and came in the back door.
His apartment always seemed smaller and cozier after he had been out in the woods. He stuck a frozen lasagna in the microwave, stripped off his sweats, and hit the shower.
The steaming water hit his chest and he felt the tension of the day begin to drain away. When he had soaked in the water long enough that his stiff muscles loosened a bit, he lathered up.
He found his thoughts going to Rachel. He loved her fierce independence and that strong, curvy body.
As he spread soap over his own muscles, he allowed himself to imagine it was Rachel, caressing him with her hands the way he’d seen her do with her eyes. She wanted him, even if she didn’t know it yet herself.
He was just losing himself in the fantasy when a loud beeping sound from the other room roused him.
The microwave.
Damn.
He got out of the shower right away and dried off quickly. Mrs. Robson hated when noise came from his apartment. He figured she liked to pretend she didn’t have an upstairs tenant.
Jack opened the bathroom door and the chilly air of the rest of the apartment hit him, as cold as the look on Rachel DelGato’s face when she hired him.
Forget her, he advised himself as he scooped lasagna into a bowl. She’s as cold as my birth mother. I need a woman who’s more like Kate.
But there were no women like Kate Harkness. They had broken the mold when they made his foster mom.
So Jack sat quietly by the window and watched the moon come up over the woods as he ate his dinner.
7
Jack
Jack heard the bells jingle as someone entered the store.
Though he had been hacking away at plaster lathe all morning and the end of the wall was finally in sight, he stopped and grabbed a bottle of water, knowing Rachel would prefer quiet for her customers.
He half-sat on his ladder with his drink, and peered through the opening in the curtain.
A couple with a small child approached Rachel at the main display case. Jack recognized the woman as one of the ladies who volunteered at the farm, making baskets for the homeless shelter with his mom. Those volunteer ladies had all relocated to Tarker’s Hollow after a mining collapse in Copper Creek about a year and a half ago. Though most of them had found work by now, they still liked to volunteer whenever they could.
The guy was one of Erik Jensen’s excavation crew. He’d been a couple of years ahead of Jack in school. Jack couldn’t remember the name - Bill maybe?
The little girl must have been no more than four years old. She gazed with wonder into the brightly lit jewelry cases, but didn’t touch the glass.
“Hi,” Rachel said to them.
It was her most effusive greeting. Jack was impressed.
The woman’s cheeks turned pink.
“Hi, Miss DelGato,” the man said. “We came to, uh, look at engagement rings.”
There was a moment of silence.
Jack found himself cringing. He had heard that Rachel turned couples away if she didn’t want to sell them a ring. He felt terrible for the couple and especially the little child.
“Excellent,” Rachel said, the way a nurse might say excellent if she had successfully vaccinated a baby. “I think I have something you’ll like.”
She led them to the cases that Jack knew had the most expensive stones. She slipped a long necklace out from underneath her sweater and used the key at the end of it to unlock the case.
The little girl stepped closer to watch as Rachel pulled out a velvet holder that housed about a dozen rings.
“Oh, Mommy,” the little girl breathed. “They’re bee-you-tiful.”
“They’re too much,” the woman murmured, but she gazed down at the rings as if she were mesmerized.
The man shuffled and looked down at his boots.
“Just try one on,” Rachel advised. “Personally, I like this one.”
Rachel held out the shimmering ring to the man. A diamond the size of a drop of water winked on a slender golden band.
He took it from her automatically.
“Does it fit?” Rachel asked.
The woman put out a trembling hand and the man slid the ring onto it.
It fit perfectly.
“Mommy,” the little girl chirped in delight.
“Emma, I wish I could afford this…” the man began.
“What’s your budget?” Rachel asked.
He mentioned a figure that Jack knew wasn’t enough for any diamond in Rachel’s store, especially the one they were looking at.
“Oh,” Rachel said, sounding surprised.
“I don’t need a fancy ring,” the woman said immediately.
“No, it’s not that,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “I was just noticing what nice hands you have. I’ve been thinking that I need a new photo for my website. I wanted a couple, maybe with a child, to get a picture of their hands together with one of my rings.”
“Like us,” the girl said.
“Just like you,” Rachel agreed musingly. “I was going to pay a pro
fessional photographer and a couple of hand models to get the exact shot I wanted. But looking at your hands on that case right now, I think it might be my lucky day. I’ll tell you what, if you will let me take that picture and use it on my site, I’ll sell you the ring on your budget. How does that sound?”
“It’s up to you, Bill,” the woman said, but her eyes were shining with excitement.
“You would really be doing me a favor,” Rachel urged.
“Uh, yeah, absolutely,” the man replied, smiling down at his fiancée.
The little girl jumped up and down, clapping her hands in excitement.
Rachel got out her phone and Jack watched as Bill put his calloused hand on the counter, and Emma placed hers in his. Then the little girl placed her small chubby hand on top of both.
Rachel took a single photograph.
“Perfect,” she said crisply. “Thank you very much for doing this. You have no idea how much trouble you’ve saved me.”
“We’re very glad we could help, Miss DelGato,” Bill said solemnly.
“Thank you for your kindness,” Emma whispered, her voice strained with emotion.
Rachel ignored the sentiment and Jack watched as she rang them up for probably half of what the ring had cost her, and they walked out of the jingling door, marveling and exclaiming over the exquisite diamond.
Rachel trailed after them as far as the window seat at the front of the store, and then sat, smiling gently, as the sunlight kissed her cheeks.
He had a lump in his throat the size of a log, but he was filled with joy at this evidence that Rachel was kind and generous, just as he had instinctively known from the first time they met.
Suddenly, she seemed to remember that she wasn’t alone.
She swung around to face the hole in the wall.
Jack hopped up off his ladder but it was too late. She had seen him.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, marching through the curtain, the ice back in her eyes.
“That was really nice of you,” he said.
There was no point pretending he hadn’t seen.
“Nonsense,” she said. “I needed a new picture for my site, they needed a ring. End of story.”
