Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
RENLEY
“Good morning,” Theo says as he steps out of his house and spots me waiting for him.
He stretches his arms above his head and moves them side to side, showing off the smallest patch of skin just above his waistline. It’s tan and firm, with the tiniest smattering of trimmed hair. Not that I’m looking or anything.
“Morning.” I feel slightly nervous today.
All morning while I was getting ready, there was the slightest hint of apprehension floating in my stomach, and I haven’t been able to figure it out.
The only thing I can think of that might have caused it—and this is going to sound so stupid—was how I felt when he complimented my store.
Someone I didn’t really know came in and said how great it was.
It was sweet and kind, and I know I wasn’t the one who set up the store, but it still meant something that he could see how remarkable it was without even hearing my memories of the place. And his response was genuine. I could see it in the awe in his eyes. Same as Rupert.
For a moment, I almost felt connected to him.
“Are you ready for this walk?” He joins me on the sidewalk. “I’ve been dreaming about it all night.”
“Are you flirting?” I ask, wanting to stop him right there before he even starts.
“Nooooo,” he says. “If you let me finish, you’d know that I was going to say I’ve been dreaming about this all night because I couldn’t wait to wear these new shorts.”
I glance down at his gray shorts and then back up at him. “Uh-huh. The shorts.”
“Don’t flatter yourself; it was the shorts.”
“Well, I’m glad you could live out your fantasies of wearing them.”
“Do I sense a hint of sarcasm in your voice?”
“You tell me,” I say with a smile, which of course he makes a big deal out of.
“Look at that.” He points at my mouth. “A smile. An actual smile. I wasn’t aware your face could contort that way, but here you are, smiling at me.”
“I’m not smiling at you. I’m smiling at what I said because I thought it was clever.”
“Avoidance, I get it. You’re still trying to put up a wall because the energy you feel racing between us is magnetic and that freaks you out.”
“There is no energy.”
“Gossy, there is so much energy,” he says.
“You can’t deny it. Look, the energy alone is trying to get my hand to touch yours.
” His pinky grazes my pinky. “But I refuse to let it happen because I know the rules. I’ll suffer through the pain of holding on to all this energy.
But I’m a man of my word and if I say I will—” He pauses for a second.
“You know, I don’t think there was anything in the rules that said no touching.
I think it just said no flirting.” He shakes his head and tsks.
“Wow, that one flew right by you. It’s all right, I’ll be a respectful man and keep my distance.
Despite what the powers of the earth want us to do. ”
“Why does this seem like it’s flirting but in a roundabout way?”
“Listen, you can’t call me out for flirting every time I open my mouth. Sometimes I’m just talking.”
“But are you?”
“Yes.” I can see on his face that the urge to wink is so strong. But he holds back.
“Fine, we’ll chalk this up to you just talking, but I’m not falling for the bit that there is some energy between us. We must make an amendment to the rules to include no touching.”
“Oh, sorry, I only sign a contract once. If you can’t figure out what you want at the time of signing, that’s on you.”
Of course he’d say that.
“That’s a tough bargain.”
“One that I live by.”
I hold back my chuckle as we continue to walk down the street, this time taking a different route that will take us down by the water.
“Oh, different route today.” Nervously he laughs. “Hope this doesn’t mean you’re about to murder me or something.”
“Why is that the first thing that comes to your mind?”
“You’re telling me it wouldn’t be the first thing that came to your mind as a single lady walking with a man she barely knows down an unknown trail? You wouldn’t automatically assume, oh, this is how murder happens?”
“I would,” I answer. “But you’re significantly bigger than me and could overpower me with your index finger…I’m assuming.”
“Uh, Gossy, are you saying in a roundabout, flirtatious way that I’m…muscular?”
“No.”
“I think you are. It’s okay to admit it. You saw last night just how powerful I am, especially when I get my hips into it. But for your sake, I won’t make a big deal about it.”
“You’re making a big deal about it now.”
“Ah-ha,” he says, pointing at me. “So it is true—you think I have a muscular frame.”
I drag my hand over my face. “Why did I agree to these walks?”
“Because I financed your store, remember? By the way, are you starting on the floors today?”
“I am. I’m going to start sanding them.”
“Are you replacing them?”
I glance at him. “No, I just said I’m sanding them.”
“Yeah, no idea what that even remotely means.”
“Are you serious?”
“I think it’s best that you know, whenever you talk to me about home improvement and renovations, you should keep this in the back of your mind: I’ve never held a tool in my life.”
That makes me stop in shock. “Are you serious? Not even a hammer or a screwdriver?”
He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t needed to.”
“Didn’t you do something like shop class in school?”
“In private school with a bunch of wealthy arseholes? No.”
“So you have no concept of working with your hands?”
He smirks. “I mean, I’ve done a lot of great things with my hands.”
“Flirting.” I point at him.
“Pervert.” He points back. “I wasn’t talking about sexual things.”
“Uh-huh, then what were you talking about?” I challenge him.
“If you must know, I was talking about doing my hair. You don’t get this effortless look without knowing how to use your hands well.”
I glance at his head and say, “You’re wearing a hat.”
“Am I?” He touches the top of his head. “Well, would you look at that. Don’t even remember putting that on.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I say as we reach the wood-covered boardwalk that runs the perimeter of the beach. It’s made of wooden slats that need to be refurbished, but every time I bring it up, the town says it would be a waste of time and resources. I beg to differ, but what do I know?
“Anyway, you’re doing the floors. What does that entail?”
“Well, I have to sand them down to remove the varnish and all the imperfections and splinters. Then the cleanup is tough because you have to make sure to get all the dust off the floors before you stain them again. I’m just hoping to break through all the sanding tonight, but we’ll see.
It’s a big project and I have a few jobs I have to do around town today. ”
“What kind of jobs?” he asks, genuinely curious.
“Mostly plumbing, and then some odd things like hanging curtains and pictures.”
“I’d act surprised that people hire people to do such tasks, but I know for a fact that my parents have hired others to hang things for them. Hell, my parents hire people to clean and fold their laundry. They’re sure as hell not hanging their own curtains.”
“Have you ever done your own laundry?”
“No, but Rupert has, thank God. At least he says he has. Maybe it’s something I’ll look up on YouTube, just to make sure.
I don’t need these nice new shorts getting hurt by his haphazard laundering.
” He bumps my shoulder. “Unless you want to teach me. Could be a fun moment where the energy between us starts buzzing again, especially when you catch sight of my knickers.”
“Flirting, Theo.”
“Stating facts…Gossy.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Because you need a nickname. I didn’t think Goose was appropriate since you pointed out that one guy who already has the name, so I went with Gossy. Has a nice ring, doesn’t it?”
“I think it’s ridiculous.”
“Well I think it’s ridiculous that we’re about ten minutes into this walk and you haven’t given me one note about where we are or the history of these wooden planks we’re walking on. What kind of host are you?”
“Not a host, you’re just tagging along on my walks.”
“The least you could do is point out some fun facts.”
“If you want fun facts about Cape Meril, sign up for a tour, because you’re not going to get them from me.”
“Morning,” Theo says as he comes bounding down his steps wearing navy blue shorts and a dark gray top.
His hat is backwards this morning, and he has a water bottle with him.
“The fucking humidity is eating away at my soul.” He pauses in front of me and sucks down a large gulp of water.
“I was suffering from a headache yesterday. Were you wondering where I was and why I wasn’t texting you? ”
“Not even a little,” I say as I start walking down the sidewalk.
“Seriously? It didn’t make you curious that I didn’t text you or that you didn’t have a visitation?”
“Nope,” I say, even though that might be a bit of a lie.
When I was sanding down the floors yesterday, I did think that it was odd that he didn’t come into the store after the questions he had about renovating the floors.
He didn’t even send a text, but I didn’t let myself think about it too much because I don’t care what he thinks.
“Guess I know where I stand if I happen to fall off a cliff one day; you won’t miss your betrothed.”
“You’re not my betrothed.”
“Yet,” he says. “‘Yet’ being the key word.”
I just shake my head, because once again he’s pushing his luck with the flirtation.
And sure, I do find it somewhat entertaining, the things that come out of his mouth—and that’s something I’d never tell him—but I’m not going to fall for it.
“So, Gossy, how did the floors come out? Are they drying right now?”
“Drying?” I ask, brows up. “You think I stained them yesterday?”
“Well, yeah, isn’t that what you talked about?”
“Yes, but I spent most of the day tarping down the shelves and taping along the molding so that when I did start to sand, the dust didn’t fly around everywhere.”