Chapter Five #2
“I’m surprised that thing doesn’t have pink numbers too.” He held one end to help her stretch it from one side of a heavy wooden bench to the other.
She laughed, and the sound did something to his insides. “Girly things are perfectly functional.”
“I’m learning that.”
By the time they reached the selection of pavers, she was so excited that she walked off, leaving her purse behind.
He grabbed it without asking, tucking it under his arm. By the time they reached a massive selection of pebbles, gravel and river rocks, he was holding the pink measuring tape too while she sketched ideas in a little notebook.
She glanced up at him, mouth open as if to speak, then saw him holding her measuring tape. That blush that intrigued the hell out of him settled in her cheeks. “You don’t have to carry my pink measuring tape.” She gave him a once-over and amusement danced in her eyes. “Or my purse.”
Crew shrugged, completely unbothered. “I don’t mind. I grew up with a sister and we were raised by my gramma. I long ago lost any sense of embarrassment.”
Something softened in Fern’s expression. “Your grandmother raised you?”
“Yeah.” He shifted the purse onto his shoulder. “Mom wasn’t in the picture. Dad either, really. Gramma stepped up. She was...” He paused, searching for the right words. “She was everything.”
“Was?”
“She passed a few years back. I was...in the service at the time. Not around. My sister had to handle the arrangements and clearing out the house.”
The guilt still sat heavy in his gut when he thought about his sister Callie doing all that alone while he was halfway around the world.
“I’m sorry,” Fern said quietly.
“Yeah. Me too.” He met her eyes. “Now my sister and I only have each other.”
He looked at Fern—really looked at her. The way she stood there with dirt on her knees from kneeling to check stone textures, her hair waving over one shoulder in a disheveled tumble, her eyes full of something that looked like understanding.
Just telling her these things—sharing pieces of himself he hadn’t spoken about in a very long time—made him feel like they’d crossed some invisible line between being strangers with a common purpose to becoming friends.
She also made him remember all too well that he was a man. His body was so aware of hers, he could practically predict every sway of her body. And damn if he didn’t want to test that theory.
Most of all, it was her bright eyes, full of wonder, that made him wish he was worthy of a woman like her.
He found himself studying the light scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the high points of her cheeks, then following the faint trail down to the neckline of her top.
The simple act made his body tighten in ways it hadn’t in months.
Even dressed for a day of rattling around garden centers, she had an innate, effortless sensuality—one no baggy clothes or dirt under her fingernails could disguise.
But he couldn’t let his mind wander. Couldn’t think about scooping her against him just to feel her softness pressed to his harder frame.
Couldn’t think of carrying her to his bed just to see her auburn hair spread out on his pillow.
He sure as fuck couldn’t think about making her eyes light up for him the way they did for her plants.
He eyed her again. Fern had a careful wariness, like she was always testing the ground before putting her full weight down.
Or waiting to step on a landmine.
He’d seen this before, after his sister experienced a bad breakup. Because of Callie—and his own situation—he knew how long it took to pick up the pieces after being broken down.
Handle with care, his instincts whispered.
But he could be Fern’s friend. He’d help her install security cameras and haul stone samples and carry her pink measuring tape without complaint.
And he’d ignore the way his chest tightened every time she smiled at him.
Because that was the right thing to do. Even if every minute with her made him want to reach for more.
* * * * *
Fern shot a sideways glance at Crew. The man couldn’t be this perfect.
Those broad shoulders made her want to slide her hands over the muscles and cling to him. Only a truly confident man would carry a woman’s pink measuring tape and her purse without a single hit to his masculine ego.
She came to Willowbrook to stand on her own, and dating hadn’t crossed her mind. Until now.
Seeing the way Crew tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat she’d never seen him without made her want to pull it off and see if his hair was as dark as the stubble on his jaw.
Or if it caught the sunlight with a glimmer of warm gold the same way.
She folded her fingers into fists, holding on to the image even as she battled to keep from tracing her fingertip over the muscle roping up his arm.
“What do you think of this stone color for the main paths?” She stooped to heft one of the heavy pavers into her arms, but Crew pushed close with a grunt.
“Let me.” He shoved the purse and measuring tape at her.
How she managed to close her hands around the objects when her mind blanked as soon as she saw his worn jeans straining around his muscled thighs, she had no idea.
As he lifted the paver, she got so distracted by the sight of his biceps that she didn’t catch what he said.
She redirected her attention to his face, but that was even worse because his earthy brown eyes burned with an intensity that had her stomach fluttering.
“Uh…sorry. I missed what you said.”
“Where do you want the paver?”
Her breath puffed out in a rush. She waved her hand, still clutching the measuring tape like it could keep her from drowning. “Over there. I was going to see what it looks like with the pebbles.”
“Lead the way.”
Turning toward the big bays of stone in piles that could be scooped up and dumped into a delivery truck, she was almost dizzy with how aware she was of Crew a step behind her. Her head swirled with the rich scent of his soap, and his stare felt like a brand on her skin.
She stopped by some smaller pebbles in a variety of brown and cream tones. “Right here.”
He crouched to settle the paver near the pebbles.
Excited by how well the two things paired, she dropped her bag and measuring tape and began scooping handfuls of the pebbles around the paver edges.
“Ooh. I like this. A lot!”
Calm yourself. You’re in public.
A sudden wave of panic washed through her, and her back went stiff. She stole a peek at Crew’s face to see if he was embarrassed by her outburst.
But he only wore a soft smile that toyed at the corners of his lips and extended to the small creases flaring out from the corner of each eye.
Even though she knew he wasn’t her ex—he was probably the exact opposite of Chris—she couldn’t stop the geyser of anxiety shooting up her chest she got whenever she was carried away.
To cover her discomposure, she turned, scanning a small selection of benches. A heavy teak wood bench drew her in for a closer look, and she rushed over.
“Hey, wait up!” Crew’s chuckle felt like a caress, making her forget all about her ex again.
She stopped moving to toss a look back at him.
Another mistake. The way the man moved, in slow strides…thigh muscles bulging with every step he took…made her insides grip in a way she’d forgotten was possible.
She jerked her stare from his chiseled thighs up to his long fingers gripping her purse she forgot in her hurry to see the benches.
Issuing a little laugh, she moved to take the purse from him. Her eyes had a mind of their own and dipped low.
Oh god. He had her pink measuring tape hooked in his front pocket—just inches from what she could only call a large bulge in his jeans.
She gulped. “Sorry, I forgot to grab my purse.”
“I told you, I got it.”
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s all right. Honest. I’m here to help.” He gave her a smile that hooked her insides and gave them a slow tug.
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
She headed toward the benches, forcing herself to walk slowly.
Rushing is for children, and you’re not a child.
Her ex’s voice echoing in her mind nearly made her trip over nothing.
He needed to stop invading her thoughts. Now.
Chris wasn’t here. She never had to put up with him again.
She felt off-balance, caught between her excitement over landscaping supplies, the lingering sting of her ex’s attempts to tear her down, and the warm distraction of the hunky, helpful companion walking beside her.
When she reached the bench, she ran her hand along the sleek wood to ground herself. “This is beautiful.” She shot a look at Crew’s face. “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”
He didn’t shift his stare to the bench. It stayed fixed on her face when he rumbled, “Yeah, I do.”
Her stomach dipped and kept plunging lower, lower…between her thighs.
She sucked in a breath and tried to focus.
Gardening supplies. Benches. For the vets.
Yeah, the vets.
Not a cowboy who looked like he just walked off a calendar photoshoot.
Oh god, was Crew’s beard that thick when he picked her up?
What was she thinking about again?
A bench. She came here for rocks. Pavers. Features for the community garden.
Circling the bench twice, her enthusiasm returned. “The teak is the perfect color with the pavers and stone. It’s rot-resistant and can withstand the elements. The downside? It’s expensive.” She was rambling to herself as she studied the bench’s size. “Large enough for big, muscled veterans.”
A noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort came from Crew.
She compressed her lips to keep from babbling and plopped down on the bench. “Ooh, the seat and back are ergonomic.” She wiggled her backside into the seat.
Crew made another noise that sounded like he was choking.
She looked up and patted the seat beside her. “Try it out.”
She saw his chest expand before he lowered himself beside her. The warmth of his thigh scorched along the length of hers, and she forgot all about gardening again.