Axing For Trouble (Good With His Hands: Season 2)
1. Declan
Chapter One
DECLAN
The bell over the door of the hardware store rings. With a grunt, I move to the back of the store. Don’t want to get caught up in any bullshit conversation with one of the town gossips on a stinkin’ hot afternoon like today. No patience. My CO always said that was my weak spot.
In the past, I’d shoot the shit with the owner of this place when I picked up supplies. But now his nephew is running it and he’s a fucking weasel . Although weasels are resourceful creatures and this guy has all the resources of a muddy puddle. He’s tried to overcharge me a couple of times and he’s also swindled Mrs. Tremolo. She’s a good customer of mine and was bewildered by how much the cost of her supplies had increased. So I’m here to get her a refund, get myself a blade, and give the weasel a piece of my mind. Locating the replacement blade for my bow saw, I hold it up to the light, checking to see if it’s intact.
Then it hits me. A scent you don’t normally associate with hardware stores, which smell of metal, grease and paints. Breathing in the heady mix of rose and spices, the perfume stops me right in my tracks. My heart is thumping, my adrenaline spiking, every sense on fire. It’s as if I’ve been thrown back twenty years and I’m hunting down a target.
Except tracking a target didn’t mean all the blood drained from my head straight to my dick. Adjusting my pants, I blink a couple of times. Who the hell is this woman whose scent is provoking such an immediate, powerful effect on me? What if it’s some old lumberjack who’s accidentally spilled his wife’s perfume on his shirt before coming out here? A laugh rumbles deep in my chest and I cough to cover it up.
Light footsteps walk up to the counter and I follow the sound, keeping cover behind a display of safety goggles.
“Excuse me?” A sweet, high voice, like a bird’s trill.
“How can I help you lil’ lady?” The manager sounds extra smooth. Probably rubbing his hands together. Prick.
“Um, I’ve just moved into a cabin and–”
“Here in Snowflake?”
“Yes. Well, not in town. Up on the eastern side of the mountain. I’ve come to get supplies. The place I bought isn’t quite how I expected it to be.”
“Drafty? Roof leaking?” The glee in the manager’s tone is obvious.
“I’m not sure yet. I guess I’ll wait until it rains. Then I’ll probably be back here! But I need some white paint and brushes, and a hammer.”
“No problem. Let me get that for you, darlin’.” The squeak of his polished shoes on the floor has her stepping back. I sneak a glance out from the edge of the display.
Dark gold hair curling over one eye, like a film star. Red lips. Early twenties, I’d guess. High-waisted jeans and a long-sleeved polka-dot blouse, despite the humidity. All that fabric can’t disguise her luscious tits and a juicy ass. It’s as if every one of my vintage film star fantasies has been rolled up into one delectable package. My already rock-hard dick throbs, as if it’s trying to make a break from my pants.
Fuck.
I stifle a groan and her head turns at the sound, so I step backward into the aisle. She’s distracted by the manager coming back with an armful of supplies and setting them down on the counter.
“Paint, brushes, hammer, and I’ve thrown in some nails for you.” He winks, his long sweaty face bright as he scans her body up and down. A muscle in my jaw ticks and I clench my fists.
“Perfect.”
“Write down your name and address right here and we’ll send you our catalog. You get a discount on repeat purchases.”
There’s a scratching noise as she writes her details down on a piece of paper. The manager is gawking at her cleavage as her blouse gapes open a little. Her hair falls in front of one eye and she sweeps it behind her ear. My chest is tight; I’m rooted to the spot, lost in her elegant movements.
“One thing you’ll need up there that you don’t have yet, sweetie.” The manager’s voice gets oilier. I know that tone. He’s so stupid that he gives away every lie he makes with that smooth-as-butter cadence. But this lovely girl doesn’t know that yet.
“What’s that?”
“Bear spray. Some big grizzlies over that side of the mountain. I have some special stuff just in, I’ll do you a discount.”
“Bears? I didn’t know bears came up to the cabins.”
“Oh, yes.” A thud as he puts a huge can on the counter. “I’ll help you carry this out to your vehicle. $79.99.”
Shaking my head, I hold back the urge to march up and swat him around his thick skull. I don’t want to frighten her.
“Are you sure I need it? I don’t want–”
“Absolutely, ma’am.” He’s gone formal now he wants to make this bogus sale. “Your safety is my priority. Just spray it around your house and the bears will know not to come near it again.”
I roll my eyes so goddamn hard they nearly drop out of my skull and roll across the scratched wooden floor. The manager rings up her purchases and carries them out to her car, the bell tinkling as they go outside.
Her scent is hanging in the air and I take another lungful like I’m storing up oxygen. She’s driving a little blue sedan that’s not going to cope with Snowflake winter. Maybe she’s only here for the summer. But why would she fix up a place if she wasn’t planning to stay? To sell it on?
I’m clutching onto the bow saw blade packet so hard that I’ve dented the plastic. The manager comes back inside, whistling. My heavy boots thud as I march up to the counter. The manager’s Adam’s apple bobs in his skinny neck as he spots me.
“Mr. Connor. How can I help you?” His voice doesn’t have an oily tone anymore.
“Bear spray? You sure about that?”
He swallows again. His throat must be dry. “It has a high capsaicin content and I’m told it–”
“You were told shit. And that price? Daylight robbery.”
“Look, Declan–”
“Don’t you use my first name, you oily fuck. You may not have been in Snowflake Falls for long, but you know bears aren’t a problem on that side of the mountain. And even if they were, that stuff is meant to be used during an attack, not to keep them off your property.”
“There’s no need to be insulting. I’m told there are bears all over the mountain.”
I rub my hand over my beard. “You’re told ? Surely your uncle must have told you we have a friendly grizzly and his pack that haven’t harmed anyone or come near any property since they’ve been living in the woods.”
He shakes his head. “Bears are dangerous.”
“Some say the bears have even helped lost hikers.”
“You’re teasing me now. I don’t appreciate it.”
I lean over the counter, getting into his space. He cranes his neck back, trying to get away. “And writing her address down? Discounts? What the fuck were you planning?”
“Are you accusing me of something?”
I slam my hand down on the counter. “How come I’ve been coming to this store for fifteen years and never once written my address down? Discount ?”
He breaks eye contact. “You can’t deny she was pretty. Big girl, but pretty.”
“And that gives you the right to swindle her and take her address on false pretenses? Give me that fucking paper.”
The weasel’s hand is shaky as he hands me the piece of paper. “I don’t want to get in trouble. My uncle’s back next month and then I’m gone. Let’s keep this between us, okay? I’ll throw in that blade for free, okay?”
“I’m paying for this and I’m not taking a bribe. You’ll also need to refund Mrs Tremolo for the stuff you overcharged her for last week. And the girl? Stay. Away. From. Her. I’ll be watching you.” I stare down at him as I hand him my credit card.
He nods and I take the blade once the sale’s gone through. Once I’m in my truck, I get out the piece of paper.
Georgia Brooks . Her name sounds like it should be up in lights. She’s in a cabin maybe a ten-minute drive from my place. Inside the store, the manager is staring warily at me through the window. I don’t trust him to stay away from her.
Starting up the engine, I come up with a plan. I’m going to run the groceries I bought earlier back to the house and then I’m going over to Georgia’s cabin. I’ll pick up that bogus spray and get her a refund, then warn her to stay away from the weasel.
I don’t know why, but I want to keep her safe.