Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Vaughn
Not a gold digger.
No, it’s worse. She’s gotten Gus attached to her, all the while becoming a firefighter. I can tell by the way he checks in with her as he returns from his stroll down to the barn. His begrudging nod when she asks if he’s okay. Her soft gaze as he passes by, putting distance between us.
“A firefighter, huh?” I ask, tackling the other issue at hand.
At the end of the porch, Gus grips the rail and hangs his head. I know what he’s feeling. Dread. Bone-deep, irrational fear.
Why, of all the professions out there, did she choose this one?
“Yeah. It’s a little unconventional for a woman to be in the fire service around here, but my dad was a volunteer firefighter for years.
They don’t have volunteers anymore, so it’s full cert or nothing.
I lost him a few years ago, and it sort of feels like a way to honor him.
” Kate’s voice is light, even though there’s an underlying ache to it—one I understand.
Gus looks over his shoulder, meeting my gaze for perhaps the first time with something other than hatred.
There’s real fear in his eyes. It’s that shared knowledge that makes my heart stutter and my breath catch as my grandfather lets me see the pain he’s carried for the last twenty years.
Pain I feel responsible for. In this moment, there’s no blame, simply truth.
Kate is going to do a dangerous job, and he’s scared. Without another word, Gus shuffles into the house. Kate’s eyes follow him, twin lines on her brow, until the door slaps closed behind him.
“I don’t like his color today. He seems a little off.”
I push out of my chair and stretch, uncomfortable with how much her care and concern touch me. “It’s probably my fault.”
There’s a snort of ironic laughter. “Yeah. Sure. You’re the cause of his inability to not take care of himself and the diabetes he’s developed.” She rises and joins me at the railing. When her shoulder brushes my arm, I nearly jolt from the contact.
“Sorry. Got tripped up on that nail,” she says, a blush creeping up her neck. “I seem to keep running into you. I’ll try to do better.”
I glance down at the nail that’s raised the tiniest bit from the plank, certainly not enough to trip over, and raise a brow at her.
If I had it in me to flirt with her, I wonder how far that blush would travel.
My gaze skims over the expanse above her V-neck T-shirt, up the column of her neck, over her freckled cheeks, fascinated with watching the flush creep across her skin.
“Guess I’ll work in the barn for a bit.”
One side of her full lips tilts up. “At least he didn’t try to shoot you this time.”
* * *
“Dinner’s ready.” Kate’s voice rings out across the yard.
I spent the day working in the barn, cleaning it up and replacing the cot we used to use in the office with something more updated and substantial. Making a list of all the things that need attention.
The workout space is neat as a pin. The rest of the barn, not so much.
It’s creaky and old and probably rat infested. There should be sounds of animals rustling, of my quarter horse, Yankee, snuffling and stomping his feet for a treat. But there’s none of that.
Once I got a place to sleep sorted, I wandered around the land that’s going to be mine, making note of the sheer amount of work that needs to be accomplished.
From the looks of it, Gus hasn’t been able to properly care for things for a while.
The beehives need attention. The fields need to be worked.
Neither the tractor nor the truck will turn over.
Boards need to be replaced on the barn and the house.
Everything needs maintenance of some kind.
Kate calls out again, and my stomach growls in response.
Standing at the porch rail with her hair up and her dress fluttering in a spring breeze, she’s even more attractive than the moment I first noticed her in the coffee shop.
I lift a hand in acknowledgment while fighting the temptation to just stare at her.
Now is not the time to get lost in thoughts of her. I need a shower and food, preferably in that order because somehow, I forgot how fucking humid it could get here in the spring.
I strip off my sweat- and dirt-caked shirt and crank on the water hose for a quick rinse off.
The water’s frigid at the start and does the job of cooling me down while taking at least the top layer of dirt off.
Then I douse my head and chest, sluicing the water down my torso and onto the waistband of my jeans.
Who fucking cares if they get soaked. There’s no hope for them at this point.
I should take the time to really clean them, but they’ll just be nasty again tomorrow, so a rinse will have to do.
I undo the top button and soak the denim, scrubbing away as much as possible using only my hands.
It’s not as effective as a proper wash, but I’d need steel wool to get them truly clean.
And the well water isn’t a replacement for the ice bath I’d like to soak my balls in, but it does help cool me down.
I finish my yard shower, slicking my hair out of my face, and turn toward the rental to get my duffel. Kate’s still standing on the porch, watching me, eyes raking over my body in the same way I studied hers earlier. I flex involuntarily under her scrutiny. Fuck, but I like her eyes on me.
Not for you, Adams.
I mentally shake off the chemistry between us. There’s too much connection for us to start anything physical. That possibility died the minute she announced herself as Gus’s caregiver. My best bet is to get my business done and get my ass back to Bali.
I make the trek to the house to find that Kate already has dinner on the table, and Gus is doing his usual grumble. I sit down hesitantly, and Kate joins us.
“Well. This is kind of nice,” Kate declares, a small smile tilting her lips up. “I can’t remember the last time I had a family meal.”
The clank of silverware on plates is the only response, not that she seems to need one. After all the work today, I’m starving. So I dig in, practically shoveling food into my mouth. I’d think I was being rude, but to my surprise, Kate eats faster than I do.
She catches me glancing over at her, and twin spots of pink tinge her cheeks.
“Sorry. It’s a not-so-great side effect of working on the ambulance for the past few years. I eat quickly. You never know when you’ll get toned out and miss a meal.”
“Can’t say we had that exact issue, but we had plenty of packaged dinners when I was in the service.”
Her nose scrunches, drawing my attention to the light dusting of freckles. “I’ve had a few of those dehydrated packs on hiking trips. They’re okay for a day or so, but more than that…” She shakes her head dramatically. I take it she didn’t like them. “No thanks. Where all have you been?”
The light in her eyes says she’s romanticizing my naval career in her head. She’s not the first woman I’ve run into who makes that assumption. “MREs aren’t dehydrated, they’re just shelf-stable for a long time.”
She clears her throat like I’ve embarrassed her, then says, “You must’ve seen some cool places along the way.”
I’m fully aware Gus is now also paying attention, so I hide behind my glass as I take a drink and watch him push vegetables around his plate like a petulant child.
Fully embracing my pettiness, I run through some of my favorite places, hoping he’s paying attention. When he cast me out all those years ago, I thought my life was over. But it turned out okay—only because I made it so.
“Bali was my favorite port to visit, so when it was time to retire, that’s where I decided I wanted to stay.”
Kate makes some noise like she’s interested, but her attention is split between me and Gus. It’s not lost on me that I watch her as intently as she watches him.
“Thanks for supper, Kate. I think I’m going to turn in early,” he announces, pushing away from the table. No word to me at all. Like he’s completely oblivious to my presence.
Since both Kate and I are speed eaters, we stare at our empty plates in awkward silence until I can’t stand the tension anymore.
“Thanks for the meal. It hit the spot.” I stand and gather the dirty dishes. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”
She slumps back in her seat. “Thanks. I really hoped to find something he would eat.”
I clear the table and start the water. There’s nothing I can say to refute her statement; Gus’s plate is nearly full.
“He’s started this thing where he picks at whatever I make. I think he’s sneaking into the kitchen later and just noshing in the fridge.”
The mental image of that makes me chuckle and brings back a memory. “When I was a kid, we’d sneak in after Gran closed the kitchen and grab a glass of milk and Oreos,” I share over my shoulder and then turn back to my task.
“Ah, so she was an enabler,” Kate says.
The smile in her voice calls mine out in response.
“She was everything.” My voice is so quiet I’m sure she can’t hear it over the sound of the water.
I lose myself in the memories of being in this house, doing this task I did so many times when I was a boy learning to be a man.
I don’t even notice that she’s moved until she lifts a plate from the rack and starts drying.
We work in silence for a while, until the last of the chore is done. Kate folds the towel and hangs it like Gran used to do. Dammit, I don’t want to like her. I don’t want to be reminded of family time in the kitchen.
I’m here to handle business and get the hell back to my real life.
“I’m glad you came back. I know it’s tough right now, but things will settle down in time,” Kate says quietly, sinking her kind nature right under the brick wall I’m trying to keep in place. “I think I’m going to go check on Gus. Make sure he’s really feeling okay.”
“Don’t bother. He’ll be miraculously better once I’m gone.”
“Vaughn, that’s not true. I’m sure he’s missed you.”
I huff a laugh, but the knife she just stabbed into my heart isn’t remotely funny. “You’re a fool if you think he wants anything to do with me.” She looks startled, but I press on. “Maybe get the whole story before you start making assumptions.”