Sniffing, I turn my face into my pillow and groan. Most mornings I have no problem waking up. Recently, with the late nights and hard work I’ve been putting in at Finley’s house, mornings have been rough. Sniffing again, my eyes pop open when I smell coffee. That’s when my sleep fog lifts and I remember Finley spent the night.
Climbing out of bed I let my nose lead me to her. Her back is to me as I approach.
She not only made coffee, but she’s cooking something on the stovetop. “Morning.”
With a surprised yelp, she turns, spatula in hand. “You startled me.”
I show her my palms. “Sorry about that. It smelled so good I had to come and investigate.”
She steps to the side, giving me space to come stand beside her. “I hope you like it.”
Mentally cataloging the contents of my fridge I ask, “What is it?”
“I’m calling it a loaded egg scramble,” she replies. “There’s a little bit of everything in here.”
“I didn’t have much,” I counter.
She turns her face to smile up at me. “Don’t forget, I’m an awesome cook so I worked with what I could find.”
Impressed, I nod. “Looks good, whatever it is.”
I move to pour myself a cup of coffee, pausing to look at hers. “Want more coffee?”
“Yes, please,” she replies, pushing the food around with her spatula.
I refill her cup and watch as she slides the egg mixture from the pan onto two plates. I take both our cups and carry them to the other side of my kitchen island where I have stools. She follows me with the plates.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask after we’re settled.
Her eyes take on a dreamy look. “Better than I’ve slept in ages.”
She’s alone in that. I tossed and turned most of the night thinking about her sleeping in my spare room. The mattress she slept on was mine before I upgraded to a king. “Not too sore?” I press.
She shakes her head. “Between my hot soak last night and the mattress in your spare room, I feel great.”
She looked great too.
“Man. This is delicious,” I say after taking a bite of her concoction.
“I’m so happy you like it.” She takes her own bite and says, ‘It does taste pretty good.”
“Best breakfast I’ve had in ages.”
She smiles at me. “Get used to it.”
I blink. What does she mean by that?
I pat my stomach, deciding not to ruin the mood by asking. “Sounds good to me.”
When we’re both finished she takes our plates and starts to clean them. “Just leave them in the sink. My cleaning lady comes today. She’ll take care of them.”
“You have a cleaning lady?”
I shrug. “I like things neat. My parents use the same woman; her name is Lisa. She’s got a deadbeat for an ex and kids to take care of.”
“That’s nice of you.” She hesitates by the sink before leaving the plates like I asked.
“What time do you have to start work today?”
Her gaze moves to the clock display on my microwave. “In an hour.” She pauses before asking, “Will you have enough time to drop me off before your first appointment?”
I nod. “I’m going to go get ready. You want to take another shower?”
She shakes her head. “All I have to do is change and brush my teeth.”
“Wanna race?” I joke.
She blinks and then grins. I take off first. In fairness I should have done a countdown or said go first. That doesn’t stop her from grabbing onto the back of my shirt to try and slow me down. We’re both out of breath and laughing by the time we reach the end of the hallway.
Quickly stripping, I pull on the first pair of jeans I can find and a polo shirt with our logo on it. Next I pull on a pair of thick wool socks and my work boots. My dentist would lecture me over the amount of time I brushed, so I swish around some mouthwash for good measure. Lastly, I use water from my sink to wet my hair and finger comb. There’s no way she’s beating me. I congratulate myself before walking out of my room only to find her waiting for me in my den.
She smirks. “What took you so long?”
“How did you beat me?” I ask, dumbfounded.
Her eyes move over my face before settling on my forehead. “Did you do your hair?”
Self-consciously I scratch the back of my head. “All I did was wet it.”
She laughs, covering her mouth to muffle it.
“Shut it,” I grumble, grinning at her.
She stands, rolling her eyes when I take her bag.
With a full stomach and Fin beside me, I catch myself smiling for no reason more than once on the ride to her house. I could get used to this.
“See you later,” I call out my window.
She waves before letting herself in. I stay parked, staring at her front door for a few seconds after it closes behind her.
Then I get my ass in gear since my first appointment is thirty minutes from here, depending on traffic. My schedule for the day is packed, one appointment after another.
Jon meets me at my last appointment for the day since it’s for a couple that lives on his street. In theory he could have done this without me. Problem is, people who know us try to use knowing us to get discounts.
If this couple were close friends with either Jon or Emily, maybe we’d cut them a deal. Thing is, this is a business. The materials we use cost money, the equipment we own needs maintenance, and the guys who work for us expect to get paid.
What I’m doing for Finley is on my own time. The material we’ve used she’s paid for. Casual friends don’t get that.
My presence, since they don’t know me, should keep them from trying to ask for freebies. Jon and I have been doing this long enough to know how to avoid shit like that. What I wasn’t expecting was how chatty Jon’s neighbors would be. Our meeting goes a full hour longer than it should have.
It would have been rude to step away and text Finley. Because of that, I wait to check my phone until we’re finished and I’m in my truck.
There’s a text from her asking if I’m okay, and it was sent thirty minutes ago. It unnerves me that I worried her. Instead of texting her, I call her.
“Hey Noah,” she answers.
“I’m sorry I’m running late. My last appointment went longer than I thought it would.”
“Did they hire you?”
I grin, liking that she was interested. “They did. Contracts signed.”
“Congratulations!” she shouts.
It’s funny how excited she sounds for something that happens daily.
“How was your day?”
“Are you still coming over? I can tell you when you get here,” she replies.
Since I am definitely coming over, I agree and offer to pick up dinner on the way over.
When I pull up, she surprises me by walking out to meet me.
“I think your bathroom has magical healing properties,” she greets. “I didn’t need to use my hot pad once today.”
I laugh, passing her the food bags. “Can I quote you for bathroom remodel advertising?”
She follows me to the back of my trailer and watches as I unload the supplies we’ll need to mud and tape what we put up yesterday.
“So, tell me all about your day,” I say following her inside.
“Ugh,” she groans. “The company I work for changed the system that we use to close out claims. It was supposed to make everything easier only it isn’t working right so everything I worked on today took twice as long as it should have.”
“That blows.”
She nods. “It made today drag on.”
“Are they going to fix it?”
“They’re working on it but, off topic, I video chatted with my parents today so I could show them all the progress around here.”
“That’s great.”
She smiles, her eyes sparkling with it. “They were so worried when I decided to buy this house. Seein
g their faces when they saw everything we’ve done was really cool.” She gulps then adds. “Thank you for that.”
I shrug, not bothering to tell her to stop thanking me. “Did you tell them about your new dream bathroom plans?”
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. “No offense, but no way I’m telling them I spent the night at your house. They’d assume things.”
“Oh, right. I didn’t think about that.”
“They’re pretty conservative and with not even being divorced for a year, it wouldn’t go over well. Also, I’d hate for them to think badly of you.”
I lift my hands. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve only met Abby but once you experience the full Thompson clan you’ll get that I understand.”
Her posture relaxes. “Your family sounds fun.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
My family is a curious bunch. It’s just a matter of time before they’ll force a meeting. I only hope they don’t scare her off.
9
Finley
My new desk was delivered today, and I just finished putting it together. Since I don’t need a living room and a den, I’m using the living room space for it. So, I have an office, or at least a temporary one. Someday, after the renovations to the second floor are done, I plan to renovate the third floor and make it into an office.
It’s one giant space with five cool dormer windows. I’ll wall off the second half of it for an attic of sorts and the rest of it will be a kick ass office. That’s a long ways off though.
I’m going to celebrate this desk since it’s the first piece of actual furniture I’ve bought for my house that’s been delivered.
My new sofa should be coming later this week and I can’t wait. It was a splurge but since my parents are funding my new kitchen appliances as a Christmas/birthday present, one I could afford. It’s a plush, soft, gray sectional, the seats on either end can recline. I ordered it online so I haven’t actually sat on it yet but I’m hoping it will be comfortable enough to sleep on. I’m sick of my air mattresses.
Noah told me to just buy an actual mattress already. I will, hopefully after two more paychecks. With his help, this renovation has been going faster than what I budgeted for. When I thought I’d be doing all of this work on my own, I had planned for it to take longer.
Now that Noah is helping me, we’re working faster than my paychecks are coming. Also, I had originally planned for a more modest master bathroom. After using Noah’s that first time, and at least once a week since, I changed my mind.
The new tub I ordered costs three times as much as the one I was going to get. Don’t even get me started on what the multiple showerheads cost. It’ll be worth it in the long run.
For now it means that I need to be smarter about my budget going forward. Sure, I bought this house outright so I don’t have a mortgage. I have money in the bank but it would be foolish to not leave some of it aside for emergencies.
My major expenses for the remodel are paid for. Furniture, other than what I’ve already bought, not so much.
“Good looking desk,” Noah says from behind me.
I yelp, jumping at least a foot in the air. “Holy crap Noah. You scared me.”
He grins mischievously. “The kitchen door was unlocked.”
I smack his arm, still trying to catch my breath. “You didn’t have to sneak up on me.”
His expression softens. “You shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked.”
“Noted,” I grumble, then look back at my new desk. “You like it?”
He comes to stand next to me, folding his arms over his broad chest. “It’s a great desk.”
I nod, then turn to grin at him. “I love it.”
“So, where are we putting it?”
I turn again, spinning to look at the available walls. “What do you think of here?”
His gaze moves to where I point. “It’ll work.” He moves to one side of my new desk. “Come on. Let’s move it.”
Apart from the obvious, Noah’s reactions to my ideas are night and day different from what I experienced with Allen. No matter what I said, Allen’s way was always better. Part of the reason I took this project on was to rebuild my self-confidence. Noah’s support has done wonders for more than just this house.
Together, we move my desk to the center of the sidewall, right below a window.
As soon as it’s in place we both step back. “Looks good.”
I nod in agreement. It does.
“Are you sure you don’t want to set it up in the den?” He asks, and then explains, “Your TV is in there.”
“I’ve gotten in a bad habit of having the TV on while I work. This will be better for me.”
He does this half smile thing. God, he’s so handsome he should come with a warning label. One that says: Will catch you off guard and turn you into a stammering fool if you look directly at him.
There’s this boyish quality to him, even though he’s all man. It would be a lie to say I’m not attracted to him. I am. Unfortunately, he’s done nothing to show me he sees me as anything other than a friend.
He’s become so much more than only a friend to me. Since I’d never do anything to risk our friendship, I’m going to need to deal with the fact that’s all he’ll ever be.
“Let’s grab your stuff from the den.”
“Okay,” I reply, grinning.
The folding table that was serving as my desk is in my den, my TV set up at the end of it. I unplug my laptop and scoop it up, piling its cords, the mouse, and my headphones on top. Noah grabs my notebooks, pens, and a decorative box.
Smiling to myself at what that box contains, I make my way back into my new office. My new desk has a built-in shelf along the back of it, three wide drawers going down each side and one thin drawer across the middle.
I set my laptop down first. My mouse goes to the right of it and my headphones to the left. Then, I feed the cords under the gap below the back shelf.
“Where do you want these?” Noah asks, standing behind me.
“Put them on the shelf for now,” I reply, crawling under my desk.
After plugging my laptop in, I back myself out from under my desk on my hands and knees and then sit, my ass to my heels to look at it. He set the box on the center of the shelf. Every time we eat Chinese I swipe his fortune and I’ve been storing them all in that box.
“You’ll need an office chair,” Noah suggests.
“I can use the folding chair for now,” I shrug.
“Promise to put something under it so you don’t scratch up your floors.
I want to grin but I don’t, instead I give him a brusque nod.
He does grin. “Want to go get a rug to put under it?”
He wants to go shopping with me? I know my budget is tight but there’s still room in it for things like lamps, rugs, towels and other odds and ends.
“But I thought we were starting the kitchen cabinets today?”
“It’s going to take a night, maybe two to assemble them,” he replies. “Come on. You know you want to.”
Darn the man for being right.
“There was this great rug I saw online. Let me check and see if they have one in stock before we go.”
Staying on my knees, I shuffle forward and open my laptop. I’m bad about closing browser windows so it doesn’t take long to pull up the one with the rug on it. After a couple clicks, I confirm they have it in stock.
Looking over my right shoulder I point to the screen. “What do you think?”
He closes the distance between us, coming to stand off to my side and leans over me. “I like it.”
He steps back, offering me his hand to help me stand. I take it, his long fingers wrapping around mine. His other hand goes to my waist as I stand.
Wetting my lips I whisper, “thanks.”
His hand tightens on my waist before he releases me, dropping my hand. “Let’s go.”
We go out the back way. When I grab my keys and pur
se, my eyes linger on the boxes that hold my new kitchen cabinets. As if reading my mind, Noah says, “We’ll be back in no time.”
“Get out of my head,” I joke, locking up behind us.
“No trailer?” I ask when I see his truck.
He shrugs. “Didn’t need it today. Don’t worry, the rug and anything else you pick up will fit in the bed.”
When we get to the store, he refuses to let me push the cart.
I stare at him. Every time we’ve gone somewhere together, he’s driven. “Are you one of those guys who always has to drive?”
He frowns but does not deny it.
“What if we’re taking my car?” I press.
His brows come together. “Why would we take your car?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my car anymore,” I argue.
His expression looks like he smelled something bad, making me laugh.
“Well, what if your truck broke down and I came to pick you up?” I ask, not ready to let it go.
“My Chevy would never break down,” he scoffs.
I shake my head and tell him to turn left down the next aisle. I’ll figure out a way to get him to let me drive. Until then, I’ll just appreciate his help. Specifically, the way he hefts the rug and loads it onto the cart.
“Want anything else while we’re here?”
I twist my mouth to the side while I think about it. Then I remember all my kitchen cabinets waiting for us.
“Nope, let’s go!”
He coughs but it sort of sounds like a chuckle. “I’ve never met someone so excited to assemble cabinets.”
“I’m not weird,” I snap. “I’m just so ready to have an actual kitchen again.”
“Want me to see if Abby can come over and help?”
Does that mean he doesn’t want to be alone with me?
I pause. “Ah, sure.”
“She loves assembling stuff,” he explains.
“She does? Man, I should have asked her to help me with my desk. That was a bitch to put together,” I grumble.
“I’m taking that as a yes,” he says, pulling out his phone.
I reach for the handle of the cart but he blocks it stepping in front of me.
Fix Her Up (The Fix Book 1) Page 9
