6. Cat
CAT
My shift at the salon doesn't start until this afternoon, so I decide to finish installing the carpet in the hall upstairs.
I know Grandpa said he'd take care of it or get David or Steve to finish the job, but they have their hands full repairing the fence line on the east side of the property.
I woke up early this morning to let the horses out of the barn and found a coyote out in the pasture.
Luckily, I saw it before it had a chance to spook them.
Turns out the storm that rolled through a few nights ago blew down about one hundred feet of fencing.
Repairing it will take most of Steve and David's day.
With the carpet securely in place, I pick up the first strip of baseboard and hold it against the wall, then grab hold of the nail gun lying on the floor to my right.
After a few pulls of the trigger, the compressor kicks in, filling the hall with a loud humming noise.
I don't know how much time passes, but between the noise of the compressor and the sharp sound of the nail gun, I don't realize I have an audience until the compressor suddenly goes silent and a throat clears from behind me, making me jump.
Sitting back on my haunches, I look over my shoulder to see I'm face-level with a pair of thighs.
Thighs covered in gray sweatpants. I don't have to look up to know who it is, but I do anyway.
I let my eyes make the slow trek up. It's hard to ignore the very prominent outline beneath the gray fabric.
I pretend to ignore the sexy way those gray sweatpants hang so low on his hips, or the way they show off just enough skin to tell me he is most likely not wearing underwear, and continue up past a set of drool-worthy abs until I finally stop on Easton's face and settle my gaze on a pair of steel-gray eyes.
For a split second, I feel rather proud of myself for schooling my features and not letting my attention linger on any part of his anatomy.
That is, until those lush lips of his tilt up into a smirk.
One that says he knows exactly what I'm thinking.
God, he's more beautiful in person. Photographs don't do Easton Evans justice.
"Can I help you?" I ask. I've spent the past twenty-four hours trying to ignore how my body and brain react whenever Easton is near.
Not only was I pleasantly surprised at how nice he's been, but he also shocked the hell out of me yesterday when he offered to help shovel shit, not an hour after he arrived at the ranch.
Easton Evans is not at all what I expected.
That, paired with my strange reaction to him, is throwing me for a loop.
"It's not even nine o'clock in the morning, Red. What's with all the noise?"
My skin prickles at the husky tone of his sleep-filled voice, and I pray he didn't notice the way my body just shivered.
"Well, you'll have to excuse the noise. There are about a million and one things that need to be done around here every day, and none of those things would get done if I waited for you to finally get out of bed. "
"Do you treat all your guests who stay here like this?"
I can tell from the way Easton asks that he's joking, but I still feel the need to clarify how things are.
"You're not exactly a guest, so those rules don't apply.
" I give him a sugary-sweet smile before climbing to my feet.
And it's at that moment that my leg shows me it’s fallen asleep after being down on the floor for too long, causing me to lose my balance.
"Careful," Easton murmurs, clamping his large hand around my bicep to steady me.
The moment his hand touches my skin, electricity shoots through me.
It's the same zap I felt yesterday. On a gasp, I freeze, and my eyes once again connect with Easton's.
By the look on his face, I'd say he felt it too.
Ignoring the heated look Easton is currently boring into me, I break away from his hold and take a step back.
I don't miss the way his fingers twitch as if he's desperately holding himself back from touching me again, and that does something weird to my senses.
In fact, everything about Easton throws me off kilter.
"I can save the rest of this for later." I nod toward the floor where my tools lie. "It's Blue's wash day, and she doesn't like anyone but me giving her a bath."
"Blue?" Easton asks.
"Blue is one of our horses."
Easton runs his hand through his inky hair. "I can help, you know. I mean, it's the least I could do for you, letting me stay here." He shrugs.
I give him a skeptical look. "You want to help me give my horse a bath? You didn't get enough yesterday?"
"Yeah, why the hell not? I don't mind helping. I don't have a problem earning my keep." Easton shrugs again like it's no big deal. Rockstar Easton Evans wants to get down and dirty with the rest of us.
I mirror his shrug. "Sure, if you think you can hang."
"Oh, Red." Easton chuckles. "I can hang. Trust me." Something tells me there's more behind that statement of his. "Give me ten, and I'll meet you downstairs."
As promised, Easton appears on the front porch, where I've been waiting. When he steps up beside me, I take in the gray t-shirt, faded jeans, and brown leather boots he's sporting, giving him a nod of approval.
"Glad to see I passed inspection." He smirks.
I roll my eyes and hand over a cup of hot coffee.
"Thanks." He brings the mug to his mouth.
"You're welcome. I was making one for myself and feeling charitable. I wasn't sure how you take it, so I just put in a dash of sugar and creamer, the way I like it."
Nothing else is said for a few minutes. I watch out of the corner of my eye as Easton takes in the view while taking long, slow sips from his mug.
"It's quiet out here," he notes, his tone low. "Been a long time since I've had quiet."
"I can imagine, with your job and the lifestyle that comes with it."
Easton nods.
"I bet it's exciting, though."
"Exciting gets old real fuckin' fast." He lets out a heavy sigh.
I tip my head but decide not to say anything more. I get the feeling that it's too heavy a topic for this early in the morning. So instead, I nudge his arm with my elbow. "Come on, Blue will get in a tizzy if I keep her waiting, and I have to be at the salon in a few hours."
An hour passes as Easton and I work together to bathe Blue. He takes cues from me on how to do everything properly. Blue has been a bit curious about the newcomer combing her mane, but I can tell by the way she keeps nudging him that she's found a new friend.
"So, you said you work at a salon." After a long, silent spell, Easton is the first to speak.
"Yeah, I work part-time at the hair salon in town. I don't do hair or anything. I just schedule appointments, help clean up, things like that."
"Why the part-time job? If you don't mind me asking."
Pausing what I'm doing, I peer over at Easton, whose eyes are laser-focused on me, like he genuinely wants to know. "I don't mind."
"I mean," he continues, "this place looks like it keeps you busy. Running it must be a full-time job in itself."
"Oh, it is." I blow out a breath and think of how much I want to share. "Before my grandmother passed away, she was sick with cancer."
"I'm sorry, baby," Easton interrupts, his face full of remorse.
I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying.
My grandmother has been gone for some time now, but it's a wound that never heals.
"Anyway, it didn't take long for the doctor bills to pile up, so my grandfather was left with no other choice but to get a loan from the bank.
The only thing he had of value was this land.
Long story short, it became a struggle to keep up with the payments.
After that, things around here started to deteriorate.
We couldn't afford a lot of the upkeep. Things like a new barn, fixing the leaky roof, and installing new carpet were placed on the back burner.
It caused a domino effect. We soon began to see a decline in guest bookings, and before long, we had to cut staff.
All we have left are Steve and David, but they stay mostly out of loyalty.
They've been working for my grandfather for over twenty years.
Now, I work at the salon not only to pay them but to contribute to the ranch.
I'm not ready to give up on this place. This is my home.
" I blink myself back into the moment and find Easton watching me intently.
It's the kind of look that makes my tummy flutter.
Ignoring the flutter in my stomach and realizing I may have shared too much, I decide to change the subject. "What about you? What's your deal?"
The corner of Easton's mouth lifts into a smirk. "My deal?"
"Yeah. How'd you get into music? Has it always been your dream to be a famous rock god?"
"You think I'm a god?" His smile gets broader.
I roll my eyes. "Don't go getting full of yourself. Poor choice of words on my part."
Easton chuckles. "I guess you could say it's always been my dream. I've been singing and writing music for as long as I can remember."
"I bet your family is really proud of you," I state.
Something sad passes over Easton's face, but he's quick to school it.
"Nah, my parents were against me chasing music at first. They've slowly been coming around the past couple of years and showing their support.
It was my sister who bought me my first guitar on our tenth birthday.
" He shakes his head and smiles. "She saved a whole year to buy it for me.
Every penny of her allowance went to buying that guitar. "
"You said our birthday," I point out.
"Emerson and I are twins."
"So, I take it you two are close?"
Easton nods. "We are. My sister is my best friend and my biggest supporter. She's also a huge pain in the ass." He chuckles. "I wouldn't have it any other way, though."