“You can stay with me.”
Whatever she was expecting him to say, that wasn't it. Surprised, she turned back around to see him now standing with his hands in his pockets, looking directly at her.
Opening her mouth to speak, he cut her off as he stepped forward.
"Before you say anything that will make me rescind my offer, let me point out I'm only offering temporary room and board." One eyebrow arched in emphasis at the temporary status of his offer. Taking another step forward, the man stopped a few feet in front of her, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at him. "You can stay until you figure out a logical next step, but in the meantime, I'll be putting you to work."
“Work?” She repeated questioningly, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the offer.
His eyes only glittered brightly with dark humor as he gave her a smirk. “Oh yeah, you didn’t think I would let you stay for free, did you? I have got shit loads of projects an extra pair of hands would be perfect for.”
"And when you say projects, you mean handyman work?" Alessia tried to think of the last time she did anything remotely handy that required tools.
He gave her a considering looked at her doubtful response. "Yeah, exactly. But don't worry, I'll teach you."
Still unsure, she shifted in the sand, digging her boots deeper into the wet sand. "Why are you trying to help me?"
A strong gust of wind whipped around them. Closing her eyes, Alessia could feel the tiny stinging particles of sand hit her face.
“I honestly don’t know,” she heard him answer deeply.
Opening her eyes, she felt the heavy pressure in her chest as she considered his offer. Taking in his naturally stern face, she let her eyes drift from his wide shoulders down his tall form. There wasn’t much she could make out from his heavy work clothes, but she knew the man in front of her was quite strong. The confident and powerful way he carried himself told her plainly that underneath his wild veneer, there was a dangerous and capable man lurking underneath.
She didn’t want to, but she needed to ask. “You won’t…” It was hard to even say it as she stared at his harsh face. “You won’t expect me to…to sleep with you…will you?”
The look of surprise quickly transformed into one of disgust. Looking beyond her, he shook his head. "This world is such trash," the statement felt like a statement more to himself than anything. Looking back down to her, he gave her an even stare. "No, I don't expect or want that. You'll be working during the day, and you will sleep in the loft at night—untouched."
Nodding, Alessia let the words sink in. Hundreds of questions and worries bounced around in her head.
Gathering her courage, she took a leap of faith and stuck out her hand. “My name is Alessia, Alessia Conners.”
For a few seconds, he just stared at her outstretched hand before eventually taking it in his. Warm and rough, his hand enveloped hers in his firmly as he shook it once, sealing the agreement between them.
“Jax Beranek.”
Chapter 6
“Most of the water in the tank right now is filtered rainwater,” leaning against the bathroom wall with his arms folded, Jax was giving her an instructional tour of the cabin. They were currently in the bathroom. Standing in the open doorway of the bathroom, Alessia got a good look at the room for the first time in the light. The rest of the cabin was very traditional with lots of exposed wood and no-frills practical furniture. The bathroom was something out of a magazine and entirely out of place.
Noticing her dumbfounded expression, Jax paused his explanation in a smirk. "Yeah, I know. It's not really my style, but I sure as hell wasn't going to turn down the cheap price I got all the material for." He turned and looked at the room, sweeping his gaze along with hers over the modern white subway tiles and all black fixtures as if viewing the place through her eyes for the first time.
The large walk-in shower sat directly across from the door with a white pedestal style sink to the left and the toilet to the right. Everything was either black or white: black grout, white gleaming tiles from floor to wall, black fixtures and hardware, and a large glass door enclosing the shower. Directly ahead on the shower wall was a window inside the shower that poured in all the light, making the bathroom sparkle.
"Some builder in Portland had extra material," he grumbled as he scratched at the light beard on his cheeks. "Anyways, as I was saying, when the weather is dry and we get no rain, I pump water in from the river not too far from here. So that means," he said pointedly, commanding her full attention. "Regular showers are not possible. You have to take military-style showers to conserve water."
The confusion on her face prompted him to explain.
"Meaning you can't just turn the water on and leisurely take a long, wasteful shower. You get in. You turn it on to get wet, you then shut it off," again he gave her a pointed look to make sure she was listening. "You wash and lather up and then turn it on briefly to rinse off. Then you're done. Understand?"
It made perfect sense, it didn’t sound relaxing or even enjoyable for such a luxurious looking shower, but it made perfect sense.
"Yes," she said, nodding.
“Good, let’s move on to the root cellar and toolshed.”
Following in step behind him, she thought of what he said. "Were you in the military?"
His shoulders stiffened slightly, and his hand paused on the front door’s doorknob. “Yes.”
He didn't say anything else and Alessia knew not to ask any more about the subject. Following him outside, she listened intently as he explained things around his property but she couldn't help but think about his past. From what she could tell, he looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties and seemingly normal. Yeah, he was grouchy and overall bad-tempered and carried around zip-ties in his back pocket to hogtie innocent women in the woods, but beyond that, he seemed like a young, healthy good-looking man alone out here in the woods. Very strange.
Somehow the tour of the property had turned into a hands-on guided work example. Giving her the ropes to a plastic sled that drug behind her as she walked, Jax led her through the forest and showed her how he found and chopped wood. Dragging the filled and much heavier sled back himself, Jax then proceeded to show her the precise way he liked the wood stacked along the porch. There were moments during that day Alessia could swear the man was purposely trying to test her resolve. When he led her to the back of the house and opened a door on the base of the house, showing her how to use and manage a composting toilet, she could practically feel his awaiting judgment to her reaction. She forced herself to keep her face impassive as she nodded and occasionally agreed to his various instructions.
Jerk. He was deliberately trying to goad a reaction out of her. Did he want to see her breakdown—again? Or was he just trying to introduce her to the realities of off-grid living bluntly? Either way, she refused to give the man any sort of response. With every chore and task he showed her, she asked herself what in the world was she doing out here with him? But she knew the answer; she had no choice. Not right now, at least, not while Gary was most likely still angry and searching for her.
By the time they came back inside, the sun had set and the sky was a dark shade of blue with the last remaining light.
"You will use this ladder to get to the loft that you will sleep in," pulling a wooden ladder over, he leaned it against the ledge of the loft. "There are only a few crates up there; you should be able to use the free space to sleep."
Seeing that he expected her to climb up and check it out, Alessia tentatively stepped onto the ladder. It felt solid beneath her feet despite its narrow design. Awkwardly she climbed up the ladder just enough to see the entire loft. It was dark up there, but very spacious. Just as he said there were three large plastic boxes lined up all the way on the back wall.
"On the right, you will see a rolled-up futon that you can use."
Walking back down the ladder, she's stood back beside him. "Thank you," it felt a little strange th
anking him and honestly meaning it when twenty-four hours ago, this was the same man holding her hostage.
Tilting his head up at an angle, he looked down at her with an arrogant smirk. "Don't bother with thanking me," walking back towards the kitchen, he left her standing by the loft ladder. "I will accept your gratitude in manual labor."
Annoyed, Alessia raised her chin and crossed her arms. “Fine.” Turning his head, she could see the strong profile of his face over his shoulder.
“Don’t think it will be easy work either,” he warned.
"Like I said, don't worry about me. I'll be fine," she threw back. She was going to show that smug asshole that she would be more than capable of his dumb “chores.”
~*~
The poor girl.
If he wasn't sure before, Jax was absolutely certain now that the girl had never experienced a day of hard labor in her life. By the time the sun was setting each night and it was time to come in, she was dead on her feet. Nailing, sawing, carrying, and lifting, she did it all alongside him from morning till nightfall.
On their first full day, they tackled the screened-in porch he already had halfway finished. Most of the framing was up, but he still needed more wood cut and the mesh screening nailed on. It was then he realized the extent of her skills around tools.
He had asked her to measure a piece of wood that was sitting next to her.
"Umm ok, hold on," Jax could hear the zip of the measuring tape behind him extending. "It's umm, eight feet, and three little blips."
Jax didn’t move. He didn’t turn around or say anything for a few long seconds. Finally, when he felt confident with his self-control, Jax stepped down off the ladder and turned to see her face. Seeing her crumpled up shameful face as she stood there waiting nervously for his reaction, for the first time in a long time broke through his hard-earned power of will—he started laughing.
"Don't laugh," she cried. Letting out a huff, she shifted from one foot to the other as she endured his laughter. "You know what I mean. There are three little marks after the eight-foot mark."
Walking over to her, he held out his hand for the tape measure. “Give it here.”
Pointing to the increments, he somehow controlled his laughter as he showed her how to read the tape.
That night they were both sweaty and exhausted when they came inside. Any awkwardness he expected to exist between them that night vanished under the sheer weight of her exhaustion. She was like a soft wind-up toy that was on its last rotation of energy. The quickly made sandwich he laid out for her while she showered was devoured without a trace. By the time he exited the bathroom from his own shower, she was already facedown and snoring lightly in the loft above his bed.
For the next few days, this routine repeated itself. Although despite the long hard hours, he had to give her credit, she never once complained. There were times, though, he wished she did. The silence that settled between them was like still dark waters, cautious and tricky. It was easy to tell she was leery of him. If he asked her to hand him something, she would say nothing, simply nod and hand him the item making sure their hands never made contact. At night when she gathered her things for her shower, Jax could feel her cautious glances at his back. The only thing that tempered his insult at her skittish behavior was the memory of the light extinguishing from her eyes when she told him about that bastard, Gary. The more he watched the girl, the more Jax could feel that old familiar flint sparking in his chest, ready to ignite the forgotten tinder of his rage towards this Gary character. Being out here alone for so long, Jax had almost forgotten the feeling. The incredible urge, the near excitement to cause another man severe bodily harm. But it came back easy enough as he mentally replayed the sickening words the man told her.
How did men like Gary make it as far in life as they did? How did they get past decent people undetected, unstopped? Men like Gary didn’t deserve second chances or reformation, they deserved death. To be put down and out of everyone’s misery.
Casting her a quick glance, Jax watched Alessia as she stapled chicken wire to the frames he laid out. That morning they had sat at the small kitchen table, both drinking their coffee in silence as the weak morning light filtered through the kitchen windows. For once, the silence between them wasn’t tense with unspoken caution or suspicion. They were both just tired, slowly letting themselves prepare for the day. Today her long brown hair was in its customary ponytail that hung down her back, leading the eyes to her narrow waist. Without the massive layers of clothes on, Jax could see that she was a rather soft creature. Not overweight, but certainly not thin, she was sturdy but feminine. The type of female that reminded him of hot chocolate and thick sweaters in the winter. Very warm and soft.
Far too soft for a life camping by herself in the forest.
Grabbing one of her finished cage panels, he saw her open her mouth to speak. Moving slowly, he waited for her to say whatever it was she was going to say. Her eyes caught his, he watched them widen as she suddenly became aware he was watching.
"I was… I was just going to ask you what you do for fun," nervously, she pushed back a strand of her hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. "I mean when you're not working, of course."
He didn’t reply right away. Lifting the panel, he grabbed his nail gun in nailed the panel into place along the wooden frame of the soon to be chicken coop with a loud kerchunk.
Honestly, Jax hated the question. It was one of the many questions he dreaded when he talked to the few people who knew of his living situation. That and of course, the question other men couldn't resist task, "what do you do for your other needs, the needs every man has?” Normally, the intrusive question was paired with the suggestive wink or a ridiculous eyebrow waggle.
What else could he do? He did what every other man did nowadays, he jumped on a dating app and found the closest available woman who wanted the same thing as him, something brief and physical.
“Better question,” he replied finally, hanging his nail gun back on the hook of his toolbelt as he grabbed another panel. “What did you plan on doing for fun in your luxurious tent in the middle of the forest?”
Any mild curiosity she had for their conversation died at his not-so-subtle dig, shooting him a scorching glare she went back to work.
It was just too easy to rile her up to simply let it pass.
Eventually, after a few minutes, she replied. “Well, I like to read and write,” her indignant tone made him smirk. “And I also have a blog.”
He gave her a considering look.
"Well, I mean, I do have to go all the way out to the highway to get a signal on my phone to upload it, but I do try to post fairly regularly." She added. "That was what I was doing the day you tackled me."
“You mean the day I saved you from being brained in your sleep by a widow-maker so big a child could’ve seen it?” He shot back easily.
Hurt and anger flashed in her eyes at the reminder of her near disaster before she refocused her attention back to stapling the wire. She hated him, he was positive.
The pang of guilt echoed within him as the dark waters of silence churned even harder around them.
Chapter 7
He certainly wasn’t an easy man to get along with.
Alessia asked herself for what felt like the hundredth time, why she even bothered trying. It felt odd not to, though. Odd to simply go about her business in this man's house, eating his food, and using his resources and not even try to be amenable with him. Chopping the vegetables, Alessia glanced up and out the kitchen window in front of her and watched Jax walk across the front of the house carrying an arm full of cut wood. For nearly a week now, they had been working nonstop on various projects he had scattered around his property. The screened-in porch was finished along with the chicken coop, the mini greenhouse, and the beginning mount for a future wind turbine. It felt like by the time she did ever decide on what to do next and leave this place, it was going to practically be an up-and-running farm.
Pausing mid-sip of her coffee, her eyes had narrowed with suspicion above the rim of her mug at his suggestion. Jax was a surly, misanthropic hermit who had little to no social skills nor the desire for any, there was no way he was being nice to her without a catch.
He let out a deep chuckle as he bent down and pulled on his socks. He had a very handsome smile, she noted secretly. His long thick hair was still loose from sleeping, creating a curtain around his face as he leaned down.
At All Cost: A Mountain Man Romance Page 5
