Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Sloane had never had a one-night stand, but she imagined this was what an awkward morning after felt like.
She followed Gage into a three-story townhouse, and the moment the door by the garage closed behind her, she knew something was shifting in her life.
Instead of going up the stairs, Gage led the way down a hallway to a closed door.
“It’s a mess, but it’s livable,” he said as he opened it. “Well, it can be.”
Gage flicked on a light, and her accommodations were revealed.
The space consisted of a bed piled with boxes, more boxes and crates and bins stacked high along the walls and everything from a surfboard to a bicycle to cornhole boards filled the space between, along with some framed beach art and other odds and ends.
And that was just the beginning. There were tools, ropes, life vests, nail guns, boxes of nails and—so much more.
It was everywhere, scattered about and taking up nearly the entirety of the space.
“Bathroom’s over there,” he continued, pointing at a door across the room. “And there’s a minifridge and a microwave over there in that corner somewhere.”
She looked in that direction but saw no signs of either one. There was a table or countertop buried under more containers, but she couldn’t tell which because the floor in front was piled with more stuff. Still, the fact there was a fridge and microwave was good.
“I’ll get some sheets and such from upstairs and bring them down after we clear the bed.”
She followed him through the path to the bed and watched as he grabbed two of the many boxes. He hefted them to an already high stack against the wall.
“How long have you lived here?”
“About a year.”
She took a box and headed to the opposite side so they’d stay out of each other’s way. “Seems like a nice place.”
From what she could see of the walls, they were a beachy hue with white trimmed windows and door frames. There was even a door leading out to the backyard, not that it was accessible at the moment.
“It is. Even though I’m rarely home long enough to enjoy it.”
Four boxes down. They had lots more to go. “Your schedule is a little insane. How many businesses do you have?”
Gage paused long enough to scratch his head. Sloane paused as well because— Did he really not even know?
“Last count was nine? I think?”
“Overachiever much?”
He huffed out what probably was a laugh while he got another box from the bed. She found herself taking it in. He’d mostly scowled since she’d met him, but the smile transformed his features and—wasn’t a bad sight.
Don’t even go there.
Gage hesitated on where to put the box in his hands because the stacks were so high, staring as though analyzing which was least likely to tumble.
“Drives my brothers crazy,” he mused before settling on a spot.
“The gigs aren’t all active. Some are seasonal.
I do general maintenance and handyman work, changing out filters, cleaning gutters, hurricane prep.
That type of thing. Started that when I was sixteen, pitching in for neighbors until word spread, and I became known as the go-to guy for it.
I also have an online resale business and a boat charter. ”
She watched the latest box teeter like a Jenga tower and held her breath, waiting for the crash. “Let me guess. So you can write off the boat?”
“Hard work never hurt anyone,” he said, the smile accompanying a wink.
Yeah, she knew all about the write-offs businesses could take.
All of which were legal and on the up-and-up.
It’s what drew her to accounting. She loved numbers and math and rules, figuring out how best to make them work for a business.
Too bad she’d never be able to make a living doing something she loved. At least not anytime soon.
Sloane took another box from atop the bed and started a row in front of the one bracing the wall. At least this way, she’d have a clear path to the door and bathroom. “That many businesses is a little more than just hard work.” It was almost manic.
She’d known some driven people in her life, but Gage didn’t seem the type to be obsessed with money. He wore plain-looking jeans and a henley that molded to his lean form and highlighted the color of his eyes. His sneakers looked to be broken in and not close to new.
She could be wrong, though. Some men wore their money or drove it, but others gathered it up like Scrooge McDuck. Or used it to amass power like her family, lording it over those with less to keep control.
“I like to stay busy.”
As a response, it was a good one. But having seen his schedule and working to figure out the best logical way to make it doable without having a physical breakdown, she had to wonder if there wasn’t something more pushing him.
“Last one,” he said, hefting the box. “I can help you bring in your stuff from your car.”
“That’s okay. I don’t have much.” Basically a suitcase of clothes and her computer bag. “I’ll carry it in while you get the sheets.”
Once the last box was moved off the bed and stored to the side, she followed him back through the bedroom door. He took the stairs while she left the house to walk to her car. Despite it being November, the air felt thick and heavy on her skin.
She made a mental note to check the forecast on the television inside as soon as possible.
Sloane grabbed her suitcase and computer bag from the trunk where she’d stored them during work and then gathered her pillow and the blanket her grandmother had made for her.
The blanket and a few clothes were all she’d taken with her when she’d snuck out.
That, and a healthy dose of anger and fear that she’d been kept in the dark for so long.
She’d traded her car off for something less flashy and pocketed the cash. She’d also ditched her expensive phone because it had contained a tracker in it since the day her father had allowed her to have one.
She’d thought that would give her a good head start, but how naive she’d been. It hadn’t taken long for Noah to track her down, but since then she’d gotten much better at hiding.
She slung the reusable bag filled with a few groceries over her shoulder and closed the trunk only to get to the door and discover it had locked after her exit.
She felt stupid standing there loaded down with her worldly possessions, but when she heard heavy treads coming down the stairs, she quickly knocked.
Gage opened the door.
“Sorry about that. The code is 7574. I should’ve mentioned it when we got here.” He frowned. “That’s all your stuff?”
“Gotta love a girl that travels light,” she quipped, crossing the threshold, dragging her suitcase behind her.
She’d literally had to sneak out of her bedroom window with nothing but a backpack and the blanket in the dark of night, and considered herself lucky to now have the suitcase and the clothing inside.
Gage followed her toward the bedroom and carried a stack of linens while she headed toward the bed to unload.
“I was thinking I’d order a pizza. You want some?”
Yeah, this was going to be weird, she mused with a stretch of her shoulders to work out the kinks. “You don’t have to share food with me, boss. I have some right here.” She patted the bag, dreading canned ravioli when fresh, hot pizza sounded so much better.
His gaze narrowed on her, and she felt like a bug under a microscope.
“It’s a meal,” he said, setting the sheets on the bed. “My treat. Especially since you agreed to clean this up, sight unseen, and had no idea what you were getting into.”
She crossed her arms over her front, trying to not look as awkward as she felt. “That may be true, but I’m not a charity case.”
“It’s pizza, Merida,” he said in a droll tone. “If Cole had come home with me, I’d make him the same offer.”
What was it with that nickname? “But he’s your family.”
“And you’re my employee. One I want to be fed and rested so that you can do the job you were hired to do. The last thing I want is for you to be so tired and hungry you mistakenly hit a button and erase my entire schedule or—fall into one the boxes in here and not be able to get yourself out.”
She grimaced but laughed at the mental image. When he put it that way, her pride deflated. “I heard about the schedule thing from Cole. Okay, yeah. I’d love some pizza. But nothing weird like anchovies. Those do not belong on pizza, and you’d have to burn the place down to get rid of the smell.”
A grin flashed across his face as Gage nodded, and her heart did a weird skip in response. Yeah, he wasn’t bad to look at. He even seemed sweet in a bossy, uptight kind of way.
“Agreed. No anchovies. But how do you feel about bacon?”
An hour later, she had unpacked and hung her clothes, made up the bed, put her toiletries in the bathroom and then placed her underwear and folded things in the empty three-drawer nightstand.
She’d laughed when she first spied the empty drawers, figuring when she opened them, they’d be as full as her temporary accommodations.
While the bedroom was a disaster at the moment with barely enough room to squeeze through the paths, it would make for a great efficiency apartment if emptied.
She’d certainly stayed in worse since leaving college and wondered if Gage had bought the house because he planned to use the lower level as an income stream but had gotten sidetracked by his schedule and then couldn’t, due to all the clutter.
To be honest, she couldn’t wait to dig in and turn chaos into something functional. She’d never felt claustrophobic. But now?
Li’l bit.
She heard a bell ding and Gage’s fast tread down the stairs once more. She finished what she was doing and walked out just as he shut the door and called her name to come and eat.
She felt a little weird going upstairs into his private space, but if they stayed downstairs, they’d be eating on her bed, so upstairs she went.