Crazy Love

by Lee Kilraine

  He twisted his head around to give her a look before turning back to pry the trim off with a tool of some sort. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that. The builders’ guild.”

  “Guild. Union. Whatever.” Pfft. Of course she had no clue what she was talking about. Besides, standing behind Tynan while she waited for him to remove the trim was distracting. He had a great butt. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d noticed a man’s butt. His ass in his worn blue jeans could star in one of those sexy TV commercials. As he worked to pry the trim off, the well-developed muscles in his forearms and biceps flexed. “Do you work out? Or are those muscles from construction?”

  “Are you seriously ogling me?”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re taking the trim off in slow motion and I’m stuck staring at your butt. And arms. Besides, you talked about my breasts.”

  “I did not talk about your breasts.” The long piece of trim popped free and he swung it over to rest across two heavy plastic stands. “You’re the one who brought your breasts into the conversation. Which really livened it up, so thank you. Okay, you can get started on this wall now.”

  “Sure.” She sidled up to the wall and considered her options. Option one: Figure out how to travel back in time and watch a few home renovation shows on HGTV instead of her beloved shows on the Food Network. Option two: Act like she knew what she was doing. Start removing the nails with authority in order to take the piece of drywall off. Heck, he’d already granted her a two-week trial. That was more than enough time working side-by-side with him to find out how he’d moved on with his life. So she just had to not screw up so wildly that he tossed her out today.

  Lifting the delicate hammer out of her tool belt, she positioned the curved claw-looking part of the hammer under the first nail she could reach. It was a struggle trying to slip it under the head of the nail, but while she fought with it she also tilted her head up, looking at all the nails she wouldn’t be able to reach. Not without climbing up on a ladder, which should be superfun considering her fear of heights.

  “What are you doing?”

  She jumped, not realizing he was standing right behind her, and whipped around to face him. “Oh, um, just giving you a chance to check out my butt. You know, since I checked out yours. But if you’re done, I’ll get going on the drywall now. My mentor was all about recycling, so you know . . .”

  His arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised over narrowed eyes. “Right. Well, around here we just whack the hell out of it and tear it down. And we wear safety glasses.”

  “Of course. I forgot. Safety first.” She patted around the pockets of her tool belt until she found the protective glasses. The heavy-duty plastic glasses were stylish, with a pink edge across the top and a cute little rhinestone heart on the lower corner of the left lens.

  Tynan’s eyes practically crossed when she slid them on.

  “Okay! To hell with the environment; whacking it is.” She turned back around to the wall and started hitting it with her hammer, except her hammer barely made a dent in the wall. “Huh, your method doesn’t seem terribly efficient.”

  “You need a bigger hammer. Here, try this one.” He slipped his own hammer from his belt and handed it to her, handle first. “Now whack away at it.”

  Lu almost dropped it at the unexpected weight. Whoa. Now this was a hammer. Bigger and heavier than her pink one. Like Thor’s hammer. “You have a very big tool. Heavy too.”

  “If you’re trying to make up for the small penis comment earlier, forget it.”

  “Oh my lord, would you stop bringing your penis into every conversation? It’s like you’re trying to prove something. Give the penis a rest already.”

  Someone on the other side of the wall had a coughing fit.

  Tynan frowned and narrowed his gaze on her.

  “Whatever. Now back up out of my way so I can get to work before my boss gets angry.” After he backed up she hefted the hammer up and swung it at the wall. This time the dent was about the size of a quarter, with cracks radiating from the center. Awesome. This would still take a year.

  “No. Hit the wall like you’re angry. Think of something that pisses you off and hit it with everything you’ve got.” He nodded at her. “It’s great therapy.”

  Therapy. She’d tried that and it hadn’t fixed her yet. But maybe talking wasn’t enough. She’d felt like hitting things for three years now, so hell yes, she could tap into the anger that had clogged her chest and throat, making it hard to breath.

  Facing the wall again, she channeled all the unresolved pain over Joe’s death. Her ever-growing anger with the military, the war, and the big badass guy behind her for being so vibrantly alive while she was stuck. And threw it all at the wall with one wild swing of the hammer. It smashed a big hole through the wall. Wow. That felt great.

  She started swinging away in attack mode, forgetting she wasn’t alone. Chunks of drywall went flying every which way, some even spitting back at her face. A cloud of drywall dust billowed up around her so thick she had to step back and away to breathe. She looked at the damage and nodded. Why hadn’t the therapist offered her a hammer three years ago? She had plenty of walls in her small apartment.

  “You are one angry woman.” His gaze moved from the hole in the wall to her and the rubble all around them. He cleared his throat, batting the dust away from his own head. “So, once you have the hole started, you can just use your hands to break off big pieces. You can even score it with your utility knife to make it easier to break.”

  He moved forward and demonstrated the trick with the knife.

  “Gotcha, boss.”

  “Awesome. Then I’ll finish up the trim while you keep demoing the drywall.” He moved back to the wall and started on the baseboard trim. “There’s a ladder on the floor over in the corner.”

  Um, no. “There’s a sun up in the sky out the side window over there.”

  Tynan turned his gaze on her. “Why do I need to know that?”

  “I thought we were exchanging useless tidbits of information. I don’t do heights.” She watched him fight a grin and knew exactly where his mind went. “Keep the short jokes to yourself, please. I have a serious case of acrophobia, so there will be no ladder climbing for this woman.”

  He stood up from his crouch, running a slow hand along the back of his neck as his gaze traveled up to the fifteen-foot-high ceilings. “Makes it hard to work in construction, don’t you think?”

  “Ha! That’s the glass half-empty lens.” She shook her head. “When you look at it with your glass half-full lens, I’m a specialist in all things construction six feet and below. You probably should pay me more.”

  Snorting, he turned back to the trim. “Yeah, I don’t have a glass half-full lens. I’m a realist, and the reality is you probably won’t make it through your two-week trial.”

  “That is so negative. And now I’m going to have to prove you wrong.”

  “Looking forward to it. The ladder’s over in the corner.”

  “See, you are a glass half-full person. Or completely delusional.”

  * * *

  After work Tynan drove by his house to pick up Houdini and then drove over to the Gray Mountain Veterans’ Home. He opened the windows of his truck and told Houdini to wait. He hadn’t finished qualifying his pet as a therapy dog yet, but the bingo group had worn him down once they found out he had a dog. He’d started sneaking him in the back door a few weeks before and everyone had loved him. Houdini had all his shots, obeyed commands, and was the gentlest dog, but Mrs. Rice, the director of the nursing home, was a stickler for rules.

  “Sadie. Ms. Baker. Always a pleasure to see your smiling faces.” Tynan greeted the nurses manning the front desk while he signed in on the volunteer log.

  “People have been looking for you.” Sadie grinned across the desk at him. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter and darting her eyes to either side. “Edna Malloy wants the magazine you promised her. The bingo
club said to hurry up. Oh, and you’re in trouble with Mrs. Rice again.”

  Story of his life, but after dealing with Lu all week, he’d rather just slip in and put off dealing with Mrs. Rice until next week. “Thanks for the heads-up. Pretend I wasn’t here—”

  “Excuse me, Tynan? Could I have a word please?”

  Here we go again. “Sure, Mrs. Rice. What’s up?”

  “Did you read all the fine print on the volunteer forms before you signed them?”

  People actually read the fine print? “Absolutely. I take this volunteering gig seriously.”

  “Yes, I know you do, Tynan. You’ve been here every week ever since you signed up six months ago. You’re one of our most faithful volunteers. That’s why I decided to give you a warning instead of dismissing you.”

  Tynan crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to hear which rule he’d broken this time.

  “Tynan, it’s stated specifically in the paperwork that no patient is to be given contraband of any kind without said contraband being approved by a staff member.”

  “Could you be more specific, Mrs. Rice? What contraband are you talking about?”

  He ran a hand along the back of his neck while he ran through which contraband item might have gotten him into trouble. The chocolate bars? The deck of risqué poker cards?

  “The alcohol you provided Captain York. We do not allow alcohol in this facility, Tynan.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Rice. I must have missed that in the fine print. You can be sure I’ll reread my paperwork in an effort to maintain the rules.”

  Mrs. Rice blinked up at him. “Okay. Then we’re fine. Thank you, Tynan. We really do appreciate our volunteers, but we must maintain our rules for the health and safety of our veterans. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” What Tynan understood was that Captain York had fought in the Battle of the Bulge and had seen and faced more shit than he or Mrs. Rice ever would. Captain York wasn’t a diabetic, an alcoholic, or a heart patient, so if the man wanted a shot of Jameson to toast his old comrades, Tynan was going to get it for him. He nodded at Mrs. Rice. “I’m off to run the bingo game.”

  “Oh, that reminds me: No letting the residents bet on bingo this time.”

  Tynan was beginning to think no vets ever died of old age in this place because they’d probably keel over out of boredom long before then. “No betting. Roger that.”

  Chapter Three

  The next day Tynan assigned Lu to work with Craig because he had the most experience. They were pulling down drywall in the back corner of the first floor, and he figured Lu couldn’t get into too much trouble doing that for a second day. But now, an hour later, as their conversation floated over to him, it was clear he’d figured wrong. No two ways about it—the woman was a distraction.

  “God bless! Ouch!” And then the clatter of a dropped tool drowned out some of the more colorful language.

  “Oh, holy cow, Craig! I’m sorry!”

  “Not your fault, Lu. Hammers slip all the time. I should’ve known better than to have my hand that close.”

  “It was a foot away.”

  “It’ll stop throbbing in a few minutes. Hey, maybe Tynan could use your help until I get the feeling back in my hand.”

  So she came wandering his way.

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?” Her forehead creased and she twirled her hammer between fidgety hands.

  “Whack him with your hammer?”

  She grimaced and slipped the tool onto her belt. “Afraid so. And pretty hard, too, after your lesson on swinging the hammer yesterday.”

  And so the week went. In one week Lu had managed to injure every man on the crew and no one said a thing. Nope. It was all, “It didn’t hurt, Lu” and “Heck, Lu, we’ve all done that before,” or “My fault! I shouldn’t have had my hand there,” all the while she was practically picking them off one by one.

  On day three Junior took a fall from his ladder when Lu accidently bumped it moving a bucket of drywall mud. She’d taken out Juan the morning of day four with a piece of drywall to the side of his head when she’d tugged so hard it went flying from her hands. Cash and Tom were felled with one tree. Well, in two-by-four form. Lu had just picked up the ten-foot wall stud when Tom made the mistake of calling to her. She turned around so fast she got them both in the crotch. They’d decided to take a short break and sent her his way again.

  And so far, by keeping a defensive eye on her, he’d managed to duck or slide out of her way. The only thing of his she had hurt was his peace and quiet. Man, she liked to talk. And not just talk to hear herself speak. She had all kinds of questions. He tried the grunt response, but she’d just ask the question over. And over. A mumble didn’t work either because she’d stop what she was doing and say, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  He finally turned the music up on the radio, but it turned out Lu loved to sing along to country tunes even when she didn’t know the words. She’d just make up what she didn’t know. Which wouldn’t have been too bad if she could stay on key. After about an hour he couldn’t take it.

  “I give up. You win, Lu. Shut off the radio and go back to talking.”

  She grinned over at him. “Only if you carry your end of the conversation this time. Otherwise I’d rather sing, thank you.”

  Oh, she was good. Singing as a weapon. She should be a cop. Bet she could get a confession out of a crook in less than a chorus.

  “Go for it, Tinker Bell, but I don’t discuss politics, religion, or a woman’s weight. Learned all that the hard way.” He was carefully prying up the dentil crown molding where the ceiling and wall met and handing the pieces down to Lu where she stood waiting for them at the base of his ladder. “And stop staring at my ass.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s very nice. I’m only looking at it objectively, mind you. I’m not in the market for a man. Besides, I bet you’ve ogled a nice butt or a thousand in your life.” Lu backed up a few feet, probably to get a better view.

  Well, she had a point, didn’t she? Tynan loved women in all shapes and sizes, and he’d admit he had done his share of looking. But he’d left his ogling ways behind and had matured to a more respectful appreciation of women. Now he was more likely to find a quick wit and a great personality sexy. Although sometimes bent and quirky did it for him too. Which might explain why he hadn’t tossed the pixie out on her tight little tush after the first day. Damn straight he’d looked at her butt.

  “Do you work out? I think I asked you that before, but you didn’t answer.”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you lift weights?”

  “All day long.”

  “I meant in a gym.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Do you enjoy running?”

  “It beats talking.”

  She asked a million questions, poking around in his life and his head. Tynan could have sworn she talked just to fill the quiet, but wasn’t that what the radio was for? Except her questions were surgical and precise. Once she saw the tattoo on his inner forearm, her questions came in rapid fire. Had he been in the military? Had he liked it? What was war like? Why had he gotten out? Had he been hurt? Did he keep in touch with his old military buddies? Had he killed anyone? Had he lost anyone in his command?

  Tynan handed down the last piece of crown molding he could reach from his ladder’s current position and then climbed down. He ignored every one of her questions about the military. That wasn’t a topic open for discussion or dissection.

  Instead, he turned the tables on her and asked a few intrusive questions of his own. Where was she from? How did she start in construction? What brought her to Climax? Was she running from something? Did she need help?

  Her head swung around, her dark, serious eyes locked onto his before darting away. “Need help? N-no. Why do you ask? I mean, what kind of help would I need?”

  He shrugged, playing it off casually, and moved to work on the windows flanking the front doors. He remembered Pax
ton’s possible scenarios and he didn’t want to scare her if she was running from an abusive relationship. “I don’t know. Just, sometimes people run into hard times. We’re pretty friendly around here, so, it’s a good place to find help. If you needed it.”

  She turned back toward him and leaned against a support post, her gaze narrowed on him. “What if I do need help? What if I need time to figure something out and talking to you is helping calm me down while I do that? Only talking with you is like talking to a toaster, so I’m getting all wound up instead.”

  What was she trying to work out? Whether to leave an abusive husband? Or whether to kick the afternoon vodka habit she hid from her family and friends? He certainly had a few areas of his life that were off-limits, so he understood that might be the case for her. Sure, if it would help, he could find something to go on and on about.

  “When I was six years old, I climbed out my second-story bedroom window onto the front porch roof and tried to fly.” He pried off the window casing on one side, stacked it on the floor, and moved to the next piece of intricately carved trim. “I tied a towel around my shoulders and had my brothers down below to watch. My brother Sijan even had Dad’s camera to get a photo of it so I could send it in to NASA.”

  Lu snorted and shrugged. “I did that when I was five.”

  “I broke two bones before my tenth birthday.”

  “Three before I turned nine.”

  “Get out.”

  “Tomboy. I hung with the boys. I didn’t like girly stuff until I turned sixteen.”

  “What happened at sixteen?”

  “My first kiss. And after I punched the guy, I decided I kinda liked it and made him kiss me again. And again.” Her eyes went misty and her grin tilted up at a ridiculously goofy angle.

  Tynan couldn’t take his attention off the glow on her face. Damn if he didn’t feel just a little bit jealous over the boy who put that goofy smile on her lips. Must have been some first kiss. “That was one brave boy. Did he live to talk about it in school the next Monday?”