CHAPTER EIGHT
Deacon
Excitement fizzes through me like I just stuck my finger in an open socket. She wants to know more about me. Her wall’s still up, but it’s starting to crumble. She’s thinking about me and wants to picture me.
“What are you smiling about?” Cash asks as he passes me with his design folder. He glances at my phone in my hand. “You’re messaging her again?”
I flip my phone over. “Just happy with the cut of this baseboard.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re crushing on your brother’s girl. Not cool, man.”
He walks off before I can lie. Of course I’m going to crush on her. She’s a great woman. But she’s still a woman I’ve never met, and she’d be absolutely perfect for Sebastian.
A little crush is fine, as long as I don’t let it go beyond that.
And now I have to tell her something about my environment without giving her enough details to figure out Sebastian’s job. Tough to do when I’m sitting on a living room floor surrounded by tools and wood.
HandsyGuy37: I’m in a lovely space and I’m working with my hands. Not much more I can tell you without giving away too many details.
DogPerson158: That doesn’t give me much to work with. You already told me you work with your hands.
I smile. She wants to know more about me.
My smile fades just as quickly. She wants to know more about Sebastian.
Because she’s destined for Sebastian. This is for my brother.
Chances are good I’ll meet her and not be remotely attracted to her, but I’m liking this way too much for comfort. It feels like I’m cheating with my brother’s woman.
HandsyGuy37: You’re the one who said no personal details. Are you suggesting we break that rule?
DogPerson158: I work with animals. That’s as personal as I’m willing to go, but it’s more than I work in a room and that work involves my hands.
HandsyGuy37: I build things.
I’m picturing her with animals. Fluffy dogs and kittens. She’s capable, and caring, and so gorgeous.
Damn it. She’s meant for my brother. I need to shut this down.
Time to back off until I can convince her to meet with Sebastian.
HandsyGuy37: And I should get back to it. Have a great day.
I send the message before I chicken out, then I turn off my phone.
“Quit staring at your phone and get back to work,” Sebastian says as he walks through, staring at his own phone, barely glancing my way. His shoulders are up around his ears and his jaw is tight. He’s not scrolling through social media. He’s staring at something that’s clearly stressing him out.
It seems like more than just the expected stress of starting a new business and trying to fit in building a house for our parents. What isn’t he telling me?
Nothing I can do about that now, so I get back to work and shove down every thought of DogPerson158 that pops up.
I don’t get very far.
“Hey, Deac,” Ryland says in his quiet way. “The owners decided they want picture frame molding here in the living room like you did in the dining room. That going to be a problem?”
I slump. “You know the answer to that.”
“Think you can run to the hardware store now for supplies so you can get moving on it? We need you to finish this job so you can start on the Fitzpatrick place.” Ryland might be quiet and Zen, but he’s no pushover.
“It’s going to add another day to this project.”
He winces. “I thought it would only take a few hours.”
I gesture at the large space. “Maybe with a room half this size. I can stay late if you need me to.”
He gives the room another look. “Would you mind? I don’t want to get a reputation for not getting jobs done in the time-frames we’ve promised.”
I run a hand through my hair. “We can’t keep going like this. We need one person running the scheduling and handling customer calls.”
“I know,” Ryland says. “Cash is talking to someone about the job today. Hopefully, we’ll have someone on board soon. Sebastian and I are also looking at a potential office space and warehouse this afternoon.”
“I’ll run to the hardware store and get what I need right now,” I say. “I’ll stay as long as it takes.”
I’d been almost finished with the base molding, and starting over from scratch is the last thing I want to do. I was planning to stop by the Weston Farm for a planning session for the upcoming Thanksgiving family games, but I’m going to have to miss it.
Which means I won’t be able to convince them to include a new game I came up with that involves half of us dressing up like turkeys, smearing ourselves with butter, and the other half trying to catch us.
I had a digital presentation and everything, because no one’s been on board with the idea so far.
Now, I’m never going to get it on the list.
But the business comes first, and I don’t want to be the reason we’re late finishing our next job. In our field, reputation is everything.
The hardware store is nearly empty, which is expected for a weekday afternoon. And good news for me, because it makes it more likely I can get in and out quickly.
I head straight back to the wood section, aiming for pre-made molding.
Except there’s a woman in the aisle, staring at the wood on the shelves like it might hold the answer to her most cherished question.
She’s wearing jeans that hug her perfect round ass, and a t-shirt that’s just tight enough to show off the smooth curve of her hips.
Her hair’s up in a loose bun, displaying her graceful neck.
I haven’t even seen her face yet, and my body is already on full alert and wanting to get closer to this woman. It’s an immediate chemical reaction like nothing I’ve experienced before.
It might just be the result of a too-long dry spell and too many flirty conversations with DogPerson158, but a real-life woman is exactly what I need to banish any burgeoning crush I have on Dogperson.
I take a step closer and get a whiff of a scent so foul I gasp aloud.
She turns and winces. “Sorry. I got sprayed by skunks this morning. If you need the aisle, I can go somewhere else until you’re done.”
I’m frozen in place, struck literally dumb by her beauty.
She’s not conventionally beautiful. She’s got a small scar on her top lip that makes it twist in a weird way, and freckles dot her delicate nose haphazardly.
But she’s absolutely perfect. Her eyes are bright with energy, even as she winces in embarrassment.
And I have the most bizarre urge to wrap her in my arms and hug her until she’s laughing.
I just know she’s got an amazing laugh.
I shake my head, trying to get my shit together. I don’t believe in love at first sight. I don’t believe in that two souls recognizing each other crap, but this is one hundred percent lust at first sight.
“Is that a no?” she asks, staring at me like she’s not at all sure what to make of me.
“No,” I say. “I mean, yes. You don’t have to leave the aisle.”
She narrows her eyes, studying me. “You look really familiar…” Her smile dawns slow. “I passed you the other day when you were leaving the Weston Farm.”
I don’t remember her, and I hate myself for it. How could I forget that face? Maybe the sun was behind her when we passed each other? “I’m sure you did. I’m over there all the time.” I look over at the paper in her hands, a schematic of some sort. “What’re you building?”
Her shoulders slump, and she lets out a sigh. “Probably nothing. I can’t even put a screw in the wall without breaking something. If I can get the supplies, I’m hoping I can convince my brother to build it for me, but I’m not even sure what supplies I need.”
I point to the paper in her hand. “Are those the plans?”
She nods and offers me the paper. As I take it, I get another whiff of skunk so strong I gag. Just a little gag, but she notices.
“I’m sorry.” She takes a step back. “I should have stayed home, but I have the afternoon off, and my cat is going stir crazy. He needs this cat gym.”
I look over the plans. They are really cool, but incredibly complex. “You’ve never built anything before? Has your brother?”
She blinks. “I’m not really sure. But he fixed a door on my parents’ kitchen cabinets last week.”
I bite back a laugh as I study the plans again. “I could build this for you in a weekend.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s really kind, but I don’t know you and—”
I pull a business card from my wallet. “I’m a finish carpenter. You can look up my reviews online.”
She relaxes, but only a bit. “I can’t afford to hire you for this.” She shifts uneasily. “Maybe I should just buy a bunch of pre-made cat trees.”
I can’t tell this woman that I’ll build her cat gym for free just to spend more time with her and convince her to go out with me. She’d run screaming, and I wouldn’t blame her. Pretending to study the plans, I rack my brain for a believable reason to do this for free.
“You know,” I say thoughtfully. “I could really use something like this for my portfolio.” I don’t need anything for my portfolio. I definitely don’t need something as niche as this cat gym.
“Really?” she asks, her eyes narrowed like she doesn’t believe me. “You have a lot of customers looking for someone to build them an indoor cat gymnasium?”
I really don’t. “I have a lot of customers who have pets. This would be something really cool to show them. A way to upsell them on some more work.” The more I talk about it, the more I think this might actually be a good idea.
“That would be amazing,” she says. “But I have to pay you something. I have to at least buy all the supplies.”
I’m willing to bet she has no idea how expensive that’s going to be. “A lot of this can be done with scrap wood. Let me see what I have, and we can talk about you paying for supplies when and if I need them.”
Her smile is tight. “You’re doing an awful lot for a stranger. You either have an ulterior motive or you…” She shakes her head. “What’s your ulterior motive?”
“Go out with me,” I say.
That startles her. Her eyes widen, and she drops her crossed arms. “What?”
“Go out with me. Just one date, and I’ll consider us even.”
“One date in exchange for you spending an entire weekend building my cat gym? There has to be more.” Her cheeks pink and I’m certain her mind just went to sex. That’s exactly where my mind went.
“One date,” I say. “Maybe I’m hoping to spend time with you while I work, but that’s not a requirement of my doing the work.”
She takes a step toward me, and I get another whiff of skunk.
She must notice my subtle wince, because she moves back again.
“In the interest of being entirely upfront and honest here, I’m not looking for a relationship.
My life is really complicated, and I don’t have room to get serious about anyone.
One date is all you’re going to get from me. ”
It makes no sense how her words deflate me.
I know nothing about her beyond how drawn to her I am.
“I appreciate your honesty, but that’s not a problem for me.
I’m the least serious person I know, and the last thing I’m looking for is a relationship.
” All of that has been true about me for so long, but in this moment it feels like a lie.
Is it because of the woman standing in front of me?
Or because of DogPerson158? “You seem like fun and I’m looking for more of that in my life. ”
“I can do fun.” Her gaze flits over my body before meeting my eyes again, and I get the distinct impression that sex might be on the table as part of that fun.
But that’s probably just wishful thinking.
“Perfect,” I say. “I’d love to stop by your place and see the space I’m working with, but I’ve got to get back to work. Are you free on Friday night? We could go out to dinner, and you could show me the space after.”
“I can be free,” she says with a warm smile that makes it hard for me to walk away.
The skunk stench helps.
I make my way over to the molding, which is near where she’s standing, and start loading up. “Tell me more about this cat.”
She chats about her rescue cat while I fill my cart with molding and tells me about the space she’s considering for his gym while I check out. I’d like to believe she’s just as hesitant to walk away from me as I am to leave her.
“Why don’t you give me your number?” I say as I roll my cart up to the truck.
She stops in her tracks, scowling at me. “You. You’re the guy who tailgates me three days a week when I’m driving into work. You know, speed limits exist for a reason.”
“I don’t tailgate,” I say, fully confused.
“I’d recognize your ridiculous oversized truck anywhere.” She points at the license plate, which says Places2B. “And I definitely recognize this obnoxious license plate.”
The truck is ridiculous. It’s bigger than it needs to be, black and so clean I can see my reflection in the side panel. Luckily, it’s not mine. “This truck belongs to my brother, Sebastian. He’s an impatient asshole. I promise I never tailgate. It’s rude.”
She studies me, her shoulders dropping slowly. “Tell him to stop tailgating people. It stresses me out, and I’m already stressed when I’m driving to work. What’s he in such a hurry for, anyway?”
“He’s always in a hurry. He hates wasting time. I expect he was driving to a worksite, and we’re behind schedule on a couple of jobs right now. I’ll pass on what you said about tailgating.”
She nods and stretches out a hand. “Give me your phone.”
I hand it over, and she puts in her number. “I’m Amelia, by the way.”
“Amelia,” I say, liking the feel of her name on my tongue. “I’m Deacon. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
Her cheeks are pink again, and her smile is gorgeous. “You too. See you, Friday?”
“Text me your address and I’ll be there to pick you up at seven.”
She nods and heads across the parking lot. I feel like a dick for not walking her to her car, but I really do need to load up and get back to work. And I’m not sure I’d have the strength to walk away from her if I stay in her orbit much longer.