Chapter 4
Chapter Four
JESSE
I was up early the next morning, anxious to build the cabinets and get them installed.
I put on a pot of coffee, letting Miller out to relieve his bladder while it brewed.
He never left the yard, so I wasn’t worried.
He’d run around and sniff the bushes and trees, checking out his territory, then settle on the deck to oversee it all.
I forgot about the new neighbor, though. I carried my coffee outside, looking around, surprised not to see him. I called, expecting him to race around the corner, but he didn’t show.
Oddly enough, I could hear him, so I walked toward the sound, stopping when I saw him sitting on Casey’s little back porch, his head in her lap as she stroked his head.
And the kicker?
The damn cat sat there too, and Miller wasn’t at all bothered by it.
“What the hell?”
Casey looked up, and something caught in my chest. She wore overalls today, a tight T-shirt under them in a shade of blue that matched her eyes. Her damp hair was loose, hanging down to her waist, and she had sneakers on. She wore no makeup, jewelry, or adornments.
And she was breathtaking.
“Morning,” she replied, not looking worried by my tone. “Oh—coffee. I don’t imagine you’d share a cup with me? I haven’t gone to get one yet.”
“What the hell is Miller doing here? Like that?” I added in disbelief. He never went to strangers, yet there he was snuggled up to the annoying tenant.
She smiled. “I was sitting here, drying my hair in the sun, and he appeared. And you said he didn’t like cats—he and Barney are already fast friends!” she tsked.
The traitor certainly looked content. His injured paw was resting on her knee, his head lolling against her torso as he gazed up at her, his tail thumping a steady beat on the wood.
All I could do was growl.
I heaved a sigh for good measure.
Casey regarded me patiently. “Are you going to make me beg?”
Instantly, another image appeared in my head. Her naked on my bed, spread-eagled and desperate. Begging.
I had to shake my head to clear it.
“What?”
“For coffee. Please.”
Even I couldn’t deny her caffeine. I set down my cup and headed to my kitchen, pouring her one. I had no idea how she took it, so I added some cream and carried it back, handing it to her. “No sugar,” I muttered.
“It’s perfect,” she enthused, shutting her eyes as she sipped the hot liquid. “I need to go buy kitchen stuff.”
I was fascinated by the way her throat moved as she swallowed. The satisfied little moan of happiness as she took another sip.
I wanted to hear that moan again.
In my ear as I fucked her.
I almost fell off the steps at that thought. I stumbled a little, righting myself, and she glanced up. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I replied tersely. “I want to get those cabinets done.” I walked past her, heading to the kitchen.
“Shouldn’t you ask your tenant before walking in?” she called.
“You haven’t paid rent yet,” I replied.
Her laughter amused me, and I grinned, glad she couldn’t see me. I stopped short in the kitchen, though.
The cabinets were built, sitting in place, ready to be installed. The door opened behind me. “Surprise!”
I turned to her. “What did you do?”
“I built the cabinets to help you.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
I remembered the noises I’d heard, and I cursed myself for not checking on her.
“You should have left them. I know how to build them correctly.”
She slammed a hand on her hip. “I’ve built cabinets before. It’s like constructing a box.”
“If they’re not plumb, they won’t work.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You think because I have boobs I can’t build a cabinet properly? Or is it my vagina that you think renders me incapable? Check them.”
I grabbed my tools, trying to get her voice saying boobs and vagina out of my head. And tamp down the desire to ask her to show either of them to me.
I used the level and T square to check the cabinets. They were perfect. I opened the doors and made sure the drawer slides worked. Everything was done correctly. I grunted as the cabinet doors closed easily.
She tapped her sneaker-covered foot. “Well?”
“Good job,” I said grudgingly.
“I know. I can help you move them into place and put the countertop on.”
“It’s heavy.”
“I’m strong.”
I couldn’t help my snort. “Really.”
Her eyes narrowed again, and she crossed her arms. “Yes, really.”
“I could lift you with one arm,” I said for no reason.
“And I could bring you to your knees with one kick,” she replied.
Her response was unexpected and, for some reason, amused me. I barked out a shout of laughter and held up my hands in supplication. “I’m sure you could, Katharine Casey.”
“Are we doing this, Thorne, or do you want to stand around and trade insults all day?”
Her taunts amused me, but if she wanted to help, I decided I was going to let her help.
“Let’s do this.”
Three hours later, the lower cabinets were almost all in place. To my shock, Casey followed my directions, and we worked well together. I checked the level on the last cabinet, shaking my head.
“We need a shim. Right side.”
She bent, and I lifted the corner as she slid one into place and tapped it in until I grunted. “Good.”
I stepped back, miscalculating where she was, and tripped over her, falling backward in a tangle of arms and legs.
I had noticed how clumsy I seemed to be around her, which seemed odd, given what I did for a living.
I was up and down ladders constantly. Racing with hoses and heavy gear.
Holding on to the back of a truck at times. Jumping on and off it.
Rarely a misstep.
But this morning, I had almost fallen off the deck, tripped over her, and hit my thumb with the hammer—twice.
“Goddammit,” I muttered, peering up at her. I was flat on my back, her draped over my chest. She lifted her head, meeting my eyes, hers dancing.
“What is so funny?” I demanded.
“Not your knees, but I did bowl you over.”
Once again, she made me laugh. Which pissed me off. I didn’t want to like her. I wanted to ignore her. That had been my plan—yet I was finding it hard to do so. She was unexpectedly likable. Appealing, even.
I pushed her off me, rising to my feet. Grudgingly, I held out my hand and helped her to stand, noticing a grimace.
I immediately became concerned. “Did I hurt you?” I asked, running my hands over her arms, inspecting for an injury.
“No. My back is still a little sore from yesterday.”
“Let me look at it.”
I was surprised when she turned and unclipped her overalls, letting them drop, and I knew she had to be in pain. I had to take a deep breath before lifting her T-shirt. “Jesus,” I muttered. “You’re black and blue.”
“The window was heavy.”
I felt an odd rush of tenderness flow through me as I checked out the area. “No more breaking and entering.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her voice breathless.
“And no more building heavy cupboards. You’re aggravating the injury. Mark will help with the counter.”
“All right.”
I ran my fingers over the marks, feeling my own breathing pick up as I touched her silky skin. “I have cream that would help this.”
“Um…”
“I’ll get it. Stay there.”
I headed to my place, grabbing the cream and already shaking my head.
Why did it bother me that she was hurt? She was the one who had climbed through the window. Built the cupboards. I shouldn’t care, really.
Yet, a small part of me did.
Back at her place, I carefully rubbed the topical pain cream into the skin, wincing as she gasped a little. I hated hurting her. My fingers lingered on her back, softly massaging. “This should take away the pain,” I murmured.
“Thank you.” She stepped away and pulled down her shirt, reaching over her shoulder for her overall straps. I handed them to her, and she snapped them into place as she turned, meeting my eyes. Something passed between us. Something intimate. Warm. Real.
Then Mark walked in, carrying coffee and a bag. “Hey, look at the progress!” He stopped. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”
I stepped away. “Nope.” I held out my hand for the tray. “I hope there are sandwiches in that bag.”
“You know it.”
Casey walked into the living room, and I heard the front door open and her SUV start.
Oddly, I felt the loss of her presence the entire afternoon.
My phone rang just as I got out of the shower, and I answered quickly.
“Chief.”
“Thorne, sorry to bother you, but we have a situation on our hands.”
“Oh?”
“Sanders cooked last night.”
I grimaced even though he couldn’t see me. “Oh shit.”
“Shit is right. Half the guys are crapping their drawers every five minutes. The other half didn’t eat.”
“How can I help?”
“I need you back from days off tonight. I’ll add extra time to next week.”
I scrubbed my face, somehow not shocked the last of my plans for my downtime got kiboshed. First Casey, now Sanders.
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“One other problem.”
“Okay.”
“I need you to leave Miller at home. The new recruit is allergic to dogs, and I need him around. You have someone to look after him, right?”
I didn’t bother reminding the chief that Lou used to take him. I could ask my neighbor across the street to look after him—they had done so a couple of times. “Sure.”
I hung up, yanking on my uniform, grateful I kept one at home.
It would save me time when I got to the station in case we had to go out.
I looked across the street, frowning when I saw both cars were missing.
Then I remembered they were gone for an extended holiday.
I cursed as I put on my shoes, already knowing my only option resided next door.
I grabbed my bag, making sure I had everything I needed for the next few days, and threw it in the truck. I went to the back door and knocked, waiting until Casey opened it.
“Well, well, he can knock,” she greeted me. She had changed at some point, now wearing shorts. Shorts that were far too short. Her T-shirt was tied at her waist, showing skin, and her hair was up with pieces of it falling around her face and neck. She was artlessly sexy.
Dammit.
I drew in a long breath for patience. “Hello.”
She opened the door wider. “You want to come in?”
I stepped inside, the change of clothing making sense. Her new counters were covered in tarps, the cupboard doors lying flat and being painted. I had to admit, the color was nice. But I wasn’t there to discuss design choices.
“I have a favor to ask,” I began.
“Sure.”
I frowned. “Sure? As in okay? You haven’t even heard what it is yet. I could be asking you anything.”
She smiled, a flash of pearly white teeth appearing. “Since you’re in your uniform and standing here looking as if you would rather be asking anyone else, I assumed you got called in and need me to keep an eye on Miller.”
I blinked. “You got that from my uniform?”
“That, and you have a bag of dog food in your hand.”
I looked down. “Oh, right.”
She took the bag. “No problem, Thorne.”
“Jesse.”
She grinned. “I’ll look after Miller. Why don’t you just bring him here?”
I scrubbed the back of my neck. “He needs a pill twice a day.”
“Okay.”
“Barney—”
She cut me off. “They got on fine today. If things get tense, I’ll take him to your place. But he won’t get lonely here.”
She had a point. And he had certainly liked her.
“Okay. I’ll get his stuff.”
I hurried home and got some toys and his favorite bed, plus his blanket he liked to sleep with and the meds. I stopped and got some cheese from the fridge. When I returned with Miller, he walked in, looking comfortable and at ease. He headed straight for the old sofa and curled up in the corner.
“Sorry, Lou looked after him sometimes. He’s making himself at home.”
“Good.”
I gave her instructions, explaining the cheese, and wrote my cell number and the vet’s information on a piece of paper. And I gave her a spare key. “In case,” I instructed. “He has an appointment, but it’s on my next day off. But if he looks or acts oddly, call them. And me.”
“Of course.” She laid her hand on my arm. “I’ll take good care of him, Jesse.”
It was the first time she’d said my name without being corrected. I liked how it sounded coming from her mouth.
“Thanks.” I paused. “In the garage are some totes. They were things that belonged to Lou. She had asked me to pack them up and keep them for a while. I think they should belong to you now.”
“Things?”
“Some kitchen stuff, knickknacks, some personal items that she had at the home. Sims sent those over, and I added them to the totes. The one marked kitchen has her old coffeemaker. You could use it until you buy a new one.”
“Great.”
“It’s on the lower shelf. The rest are higher. I’ll get them down later.”
“Okay.” She smiled. “See you in a few days.”
“Call if you need me.” I had no idea why I said it like that. “If Miller needs me, I mean.”
She grinned. “Of course.”
I hesitated, unsure. I had the strangest desire to bend down and press a kiss to her cheek. Say something else. Instead, I turned and left, hurrying out the back door before I did something incredibly stupid.
I stumbled a little as she called out to me. “Have a good day, dear. We’ll be here when you get back.”
I shouldn’t have liked the idea so much.
But I did.