5. Shae
5
SHAE
I open my eyes to bright morning light streaming through a set of unfamiliar windows. My heart pounds and my muscles tense, fight-or-flight instincts kicking in at waking up somewhere strange. Then my gaze falls on the dying embers in the fireplace, and memories of last night flood back.
The storm. Taking shelter in Julian’s house. Breaking his plate, injuring my foot, eating dinner together…and ending up here in front of the fire.
The great room is quiet except for the occasional pop of cooling embers. I turn my head to where Julian sleeps a few feet away, stretched out beneath his own blanket. His face is relaxed in sleep, the usual playful spark gone from his features. One strong arm rests above his head, his muscular bicep on display in a way that makes my chest feel tight.
My thoughts drift to last night—to his hands gentle on my injured foot, despite our earlier arguing about the storm. To how he actually listened when I tried to explain why I need solitude, even though someone like him probably can’t imagine what it’s like to be me. And then there was that comment about us still being neighbors in fifty years.
Fifty years of living next door to this man…why does that make my stomach feel the way it does?
I turn toward the windows. Fresh snow blankets everything, glittering in the early light. The storm has passed, leaving behind a winter wonderland. Through Julian’s massive windows, I can just barely make out my cabin through the snow-laden branches and white-washed landscape.
My injured foot is still a little tender as I carefully push myself up to standing, but it can hold my weight. Time to head back to my own space and check on my construction site.
I look down at Julian. The thought of waking him makes me want to just slip out quietly. But…argh. No. I really should tell him I’m leaving.
Taking a deep breath, I crouch down and gently touch his shoulder. “Julian?”
He stirs, blinking up at me with those warm blue eyes. A slow smile spreads across his face, and I can’t help but feel annoyed at how unfairly attractive he looks first thing in the morning, with his hair falling across his forehead and sleep doing nothing to diminish his handsome features.
“Morning,” he says, his voice rough and sexy with sleep. “How’s the foot?”
“It’s fine.” I clear my throat. “The storm’s over, so I’m going to head back to my place.”
He sits up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’ll come with you. That’s a lot of snow to navigate with an injury.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will be.” He flashes one of those too-attractive grins at me. “But I want to make sure you get back okay. And that your cabin didn’t blow away in the storm.”
Before I can protest further, he’s already standing, stretching in a way that makes me helplessly stare at his muscles. He moves to the entryway where our coats and boots wait, making it clear that I’m not going to be able to talk him out of coming with me.
The pristine snow sparkles untouched around us as we make our way to my cabin. Julian clears a trail ahead of me, and I’m grateful for the path he creates through the deep drifts. When we reach my construction site, relief floods through me—the tarps held, and the structure looks intact beneath its thick white blanket.
Julian immediately clears the snow from my ladder and climbs up to the roof.
“You don’t have to do that,” I call up to him.
Instead of replying, he starts humming to himself as he works. When he shows no sign of stopping, I sigh and grab a shovel. Might as well just let him do his thing while I get to work, since he’s clearly not going anywhere.
Once we’ve cleared all of the snow off my cabin, Julian makes his way down the ladder.
“Thanks for the help,” I tell him.
“Any time.” He cups his hands to his mouth, blowing warm air into them. “Now, how about we head back to my place? I make a mean hot chocolate.”
“What? No, I need to work on the roof. If another storm rolls through?—”
“You’re going to get back on the roof right now?”
“Yes. The sooner I get it finished, the better.”
“Okay, then I’ll help you with that too.” He smiles. “And before you tell me I don’t need to help, let me play out how this conversation is going to go. I say I want to help, you tell me you’re fine on your own. I point out that it’s safer with two people, you insist you can handle it. I tell you I literally have nothing else to do since my crew can’t make it up the mountain anyway, and you keep protesting until we both get tired of the back-and-forth.” His smile widens. “So. Want to skip to the part where you accept my help?”
I cross my arms. “Actually, I was going to say yes right away.”
“Is that so?” His eyes sparkle with amusement.
I lift my chin. “Yes, Julian. It is.”
“Uh-huh.” He’s full-on smirking now. “Well then, boss, put me to work. What do you need me to do?”
I walk him through the work I need to get done on the roof, explaining each step as we go. He listens attentively, asking smart questions, and I find myself relieved by how quickly he picks it up.
“You really know your stuff,” he says as we position a rafter together. “Where’d you learn all this?”
“Books.” I brace the rafter while he secures it.
“You learned how to build an entire cabin just from reading about it?”
I shrug. “I work at a library. When I need to learn something new, I read everything I can find about the topic.”
“That’s incredible.”
“Not really. It’s taken me three times longer than it should have.”
“That’s not the point.” He pauses in his work to look at me. “You taught yourself how to build a house from scratch. That’s impressive as hell, Shae.”
Warmth spreads through my chest at his words, but his compliment also makes me feel self-conscious, and I can feel my response tangling before the words reach my mouth. I focus on aligning the next rafter instead, hoping he doesn’t notice the color in my cheeks.
To my surprise, we work well together over the next few hours. Julian is strong and careful, following my instructions without argument. He does keep trying to make conversation, asking about everything from my favorite books to whether I think Bigfoot might be hanging out in these mountains. But even that isn’t as annoying as it should be. His questions are genuine, curious, and he doesn’t push when I give short answers.
When the sun starts to dip behind the mountains, we’ve made more progress than I could have managed alone in a week. We stand back to survey our work, and satisfaction fills me at how much more complete the roof looks.
“Imagine that,” Julian says, pride evident in his voice as well. “We make a pretty good team. Now, how about that hot chocolate? I’ve got marshmallows and everything.”
I hesitate, weighing the invitation. The idea of spending more time with Julian, especially without the buffer of work between us, sends an unsettling flutter through my stomach. Working together is one thing—at least then I know what to do with my hands, where to look, what to say. But just sitting and talking feels like a mountain I don’t have the equipment to climb.
On the other hand, I’m also freezing cold. Something warm and sweet to drink is awfully tempting. Plus, he did just spend hours helping me…and if I’m being honest with myself, part of me wants to say yes.
So I do.