Chapter 3
3
DAMON
I honestly can’t remember the last time I was on a date. And I certainly can’t remember any time in my life when I was so completely over the moon for a woman.
For goodness’ sake… I even dressed up for the occasion and put on nice black pants and a navy golf shirt. I wanted to go all out and wear long sleeves and a tie, but it’s just too darn hot.
Allie answers the door looking like one of those oil paintings where they somehow make the woman seem like she’s glowing – all soft and peachy and dreamy.
“Hi.” I hold out my hand. “Are you ready?”
“One sec.” Her fingers thread through mine, but she motions to her feet. “Fancier than this? Or are we going hiking anywhere?”
The adorable dark purple dress shows just enough cleavage to get my motor running. It also brings out the auburn highlights in her rich, chestnut hair, and lights up her eyes. My gaze skims over her shapely hips, to the edge of her skirt that drops a few inches below the knee. I think those shoes are called Mary Janes – kind of old-fashioned, with a strap and only a half-inch heel.
“As long as they’re comfortable, those are perfect.” I wink. “Pretty cute, actually.” Allie beams, grabbing a small purse and locking the door.
Just taking her hand to help her up into my truck gives me a little thrill. Every single thing about this lovely girl lights me up from the inside, making my chest feel unnaturally warm. And no, that has nothing to do with the heat wave.
Once we start driving, I reach over and squeeze her hand gently. “There aren’t a lot of restaurants in Old Hemlock Valley. I was going to drive to West Stoneburg where there’s a bigger selection. Sounds good?”
“Sure. I’m up for anything.”
After I pull onto the highway, I ask, “Is there anything you don’t eat? Any food allergies?”
She glances over at me sheepishly. “Yeah, with all my health issues, you’d think so…but thankfully, no intense food allergies. There are some things – processed foods, especially processed meats, and red wine – that I shouldn’t have two days in a row if I don’t want to risk triggering a migraine. But today I’m okay for anything.”
“Migraines?” I stroke her hand again. “That’s awful, I’m sorry. My mother had those. Then my folks moved to Nevada and she doesn’t get them anymore.”
“Yeah, here in the mountains, the air pressure is more volatile, which can trigger them.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Triggers regular air pressure headaches, too.”
“Which, let me guess, you get as well?”
“Of course!” Allie laughs. “’Let’s see… I also have a knee that clicks when it rains for several days, and I can’t put my head underwater in lakes, or it’s an instant ear infection.” She looks over at me, and I catch her eye for a brief second. “I’m fully aware that I’m a pain in the ass, but I’m usually pretty well equipped to deal with the lunacy.”
“It’s not lunacy.” My fingers thread through hers. “It’s definitely more than one person should have to handle, but it’s not lunacy.” I love how tentatively she squeezes my fingers back.
“I’m not going to complain. Some of the people I’ve talked to when I’ve been having allergy testing done – wow. They can’t eat in a restaurant because they might get a life-threatening reaction. Or the people with all the environmental allergies. Like, I sniffle for a week in the spring and fall, and that’s it.”
“Yeah, true,” I nod. “But all of the headaches – that’s just…”
“Oh, don’t worry about me.” She flashes a smile so radiant that for a split second I want to hit the brake and pull over so I can draw her into my arms for a kiss.
“I’m used to dealing with this,” she continues brightly. “I take care of the high energy tasks when I’m feeling great. I keep the low energy brain-dead tasks for when I’m not. I always have the pills and potions and whatever I need to make it through the day.”
She sighs heavily. “I just wasn’t adequately prepared for working in the kitchen in the afternoon of a heatwave while adjusting to new thyroid meds.” Her laugh is so light-hearted that I join in. “But that’s a good thing! Now I have something else I can report to my doctor, so that she can tell other people. Like when I found out the old wives’ tale of ‘hot feet, cool head ’ for migraines really does take the edge off.”
“I’ve heard so many old wives’ tales in my line of work,” I chuckle.
“I bet you have!” She looks at me sideways with a sassy grin. “Having a big, handsome contractor show up to fix something… They’re going to make up every excuse to chat with you.”
“All I heard was that you think I’m handsome.” I love seeing her blush from my teasing, not the heat. “Although I really have heard some doozies,” I laugh. "One woman was freaking out over the super modern wedding dress her granddaughter picked out. ‘Marry in black, you’ll wish yourself back’.”
Allie laughs. “What about how coffee stunts your growth?”
“Or swallowing gum will block your digestive tract, and take seven years to…ahh… pass ?”
“Or an itchy palm right means money is coming your way! And the left is losing money.” She giggles sweetly. “Although that really happened once – itchy right palm, and an invoice was paid five minutes later.”
“Coincidence, or the power of the—” My voice turns spooky. “ Ooold wiiives taaale .”
She laughs out loud, tapping my shoulder. “You’re a nut!”
By the time we arrive in downtown West Stoneburg and park, Allie and I are kidding around as if we’ve known each other a lot longer than twenty-four hours. We walk into Sandcastles, and she grins as she looks around at the beachy decor.
“It’s a bit cheesy, but it’s mellow and the food is amazing,” I whisper across the top of her hair. “And I called ahead to request a table in a booth that was well air-conditioned but not directly in the line of fire.” I don’t mention that I also specially requested that it was out of the way and quiet.
“It’s perfect,” Allie murmurs.
Our dinner is fantastic, as our conversation bounces from mountain life to favorite terrible movies and my craziest contracting jobs.
“What’s your dream job?” I ask.
There’s a softness that drifts through her gaze. “I don’t know. I think I just want something calm and quiet, in a place where I don’t have to work crazy hours.”
“Yeah, but what’s your dream job. Seriously.”
“Oh. Um. I really enjoy photo retouching.”
“Yeah? What kind?”
Her fingers spin her fork a few times before setting it down and pushing her almost empty plate aside. “There are some online sites where people post work they need done, and you can just pick up the jobs. It might be ten wedding photos, or fifty product shots for a catalog. It might be the perfect proposal photo, but they want some passerby in the background removed, and the sky brightened a bit.”
“None of that shaving an inch off of celebrities’ hips for their social media?”
Her eyes roll with a groan. “Ugh. No, that’s not my thing.”
My hand lands gently on her knee, as I watch her expression to make sure that’s okay. She responds by sliding a bit closer. “That’s a job you can do working your own hours at home, right? Sounds like that would be healthiest for you.”
“For sure. The only problem is building up a large enough portfolio while I get going. I’ve started, but I’m not making enough yet to pay for those pesky little things like rent and food and the occasional pair of new socks.”
My arm slips around her as we laugh together. It’s far too soon to mention that if she just moved in with me, she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that. Or is it? Worth a shot.
“I’m not sure if this is an appropriate time to bring this up, but I own my house outright and make a darn good living. Plenty of sock money. Even cash for mittens in the winter and a little silk scarf to wrap around your face in the spring. Just saying.”
“A scarf?”
“To filter the air so you’re not breathing as much pollen.”
Her lovely blue eyes fly wide. “I never thought of that!”
“Stick with me, gorgeous. Contractors are hardwired to find solutions to problems.”
I look around, noticing that the server is gone and the other diners are on the other side of the room, not paying any attention to us.
I can’t wait any longer. Nodding to the mural of a seascape behind us, I ask, “Could I please ask you to pretend that we’re on a beautiful beach at sunset?”
Her lovely eyes blaze. “Sure.”
Moving closer, my hand slides into the back of her hair as her face tips up expectantly. My heart melts at her expression. She’s just as excited about our first kiss as I am.
My lips move slowly against hers as we shift and settle, then realize that this light, tender kiss is not enough. Our mouths part, and her arm slips around my shoulder, my hands drifting to her lower back to pull her as close as I can.
Allie is the purest kind of sweetness. Light and cheerful and funny. Sweet and smart. But she doesn’t seem to realize how wildly sexy she is. My hand drops to her hip, caressing in a long, slow circle before dragging down her thigh.
“You’re luscious, you know that?” I murmur before kissing her again. There’s a faint moan in the back of her throat that sends half of my blood rushing south.
Just as she begins to kiss me back with a bit more confidence, I feel a shift deep within me. It’s not just in my heart, or my gut. It’s everywhere.
Allie is mine.