Chapter 4
Chapter Four
S omeone somewhere was banging on something way too loud. Max wanted to yell for them to stop, but he was afraid his head would explode if he spoke at the moment.
Groaning, he shifted to pull the throw blanket further over his head. In the process, he took a deep breath and stilled. His body was being attacked with a new sense. Smell overruled sound suddenly.
The scent was sweet. A hint of spring flowers mixed with sweet caramel, honey, cinnamon, and brown sugar.
“Is that bacon?” he mumbled but kept his eyes closed for fear of pain resurfacing again.
The flower scent he knew very well. He’d dreamed of it for weeks since he’d first run into Juliette at the restaurant. Just the hint of it had his body reacting instantly. The other sweeter smells had his stomach instantly desiring.
“And coffee,” Juliette practically hummed. “All you have to do is open your eyes,” she added sweetly.
He assessed his physical health and then slowly opened his eyes. His head did not explode like he assumed it would as his vision came into focus.
Juliette was hovering above him, holding a mug and a plate with a smile on her lips. He could tell that she had run her eyes over his head before he’d opened his eyes, as there was a look of concern in them.
The banging noises continued outside. Instead of asking her how and why she was there, he sat up slowly and took the mug from her and downed half of the cup in one gulp.
“Your forehead looks better,” she said, sitting beside him as she set the plate of food in his lap. There were a couple of pieces of bacon on it and a cinnamon roll the size of his fist. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” He took a bite of bacon. “Much better. Did you make this?”
“No.” She chuckled. “I stopped at Sara’s Nook before coming over here. I also grabbed some donuts and coffee for the workers outside.” She leaned closer. “Parker let me in.” She got up and disappeared into the kitchen, and came back with another plate for herself and cup of coffee.
“I’m thankful he did,” he said after finishing the cinnamon roll.
“I was going to bring lunch, but I figured you’d be hurting this morning, and Sophia told me that you’re a coffee snob. So I asked the ladies down at Sara’s Nook, and they hooked me up with your jam.”
He smiled and somehow felt even better. “I’m sorry that I pretty much passed out on you last night.”
She shrugged and took another bite of her roll. “It’s understandable. How is the pain level this morning?”
“About a two,” he said, remembering that Dr. Stevens had asked him to rate his pain on a scale of one to ten the night before. Before he’d gotten the pain pills, it had been an eight. Last night, when he’d walked Juliette up to the top of the lighthouse, he’d been at a four.
“That’s good.” She smiled. “Nothing a few aspirin or Tylenol can’t handle.” She sighed and then glanced at him sideways. “They’re really making a mess of your yard out there.”
He chuckled and then winced slightly at the spike of pain. “You have to break a few eggs to make an omelet.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just the recent rains have made your driveway almost impassable. I parked down the hill a ways and walked for fear of getting stuck.”
“I plan to pave it when they’re done.” He set the empty plate on the coffee table.
“That’s good.” She set her plate down too.
“Did you just come here to feed me or for that tour?” he asked.
She surprised him by laughing instead of being offended. “To be honest, I already snuck around while I was heating the cinnamon rolls in your oven. But I really came to check up on you.” Her eyes landed on the bandage on his forehead. “I’d like to take a look under that. If you’re okay with it.”
He nodded and then sat still while she leaned closer and gently removed the tape and gauze Dr. Stevens had put on the bump the night before.
“There’s a smaller bandage now,” she said after removing the large white square.
“Go ahead. I have more Band-Aids I can put on it.” Once she removed it, she hissed. “Is it that bad?” he asked.
“No, honestly, it’s just bruised. I think Dr. Stevens was right. You won’t have much of a scar.” He relaxed slightly and noticed she did as well.
She really was worried about him. That made a wave of heat rush through him.
“You probably want to shower and start your day.” She glanced at her watch.
“Do you work today?” he asked when she stood up and gathered the plates.
“No.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “I can take care of those later,” he suggested.
“It’s okay. I made the mess, I’ll clean it before I head out.” She started to rinse the plates.
“If you…” He started but stopped, suddenly feeling stupid.
“What?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“If you hang out for a while, I’ll give you an official tour after I shower.”
She smiled. “Sounds good. I’ll finish these.”
He nodded and quickly disappeared down the hallway towards the main bedroom. The space was empty now, but the bathroom still held all his toiletry items for now.
He took a little longer showering than normal since he had to get the dried blood out of his hair. After pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater, he stepped out to find Juliette standing outside talking to Palmer.
Since he wanted to check on the crews working outside on his electric, he pulled on his darkest sunglasses and headed outside into the bright morning.
He greeted Palmer with a handshake as the man’s gaze zeroed in on his forehead. Since it wasn’t bleeding, he hadn’t put on another bandage.
“Juliette told me what happened. How are you holding up?” Palmer asked him.
“I’m better today. I guess I’ll leave the plumbing to you and your crew,” he joked.
“I’ll head inside and take a look at the sink,” Palmer said. He nodded to them as he turned and walked towards the front door.
“How about that tour?” he suggested. The air coming up the cliff side from the beach was chilly, and he realized he’d left his coat inside.
“Sure.” She wrapped her arm in his as they walked back.
Max pushed open the heavy front door and stepped aside to let Juliette in first. “Welcome, officially, to my home,” he said, sweeping his arm dramatically. “Where the floors are uneven, the walls have seen better days, and the furniture has staged a rebellion,” he joked. He enjoyed hearing her laughter.
Juliette stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the stacked furniture, the cracked tiles, and the faded walls like she hadn’t already been inside the night before and earlier. “It’s… definitely got character.”
He chuckled. “That’s a polite way of saying it needs a lot of work.”
She chuckled. “I was trying to be nice.”
He led her forward into the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon and sugar lingering in the air. The massive arched windows in the small dining area overlooked the water, the sun just beginning to set in the distance.
“This view is really incredible,” she murmured, stepping closer. “You get to wake up to this every day?”
“I do.” He leaned against the old wooden counter, watching her. “Makes up for the lack of cabinet doors and the fact that the stove is probably older than my grandfather.”
“And you need new plumbing under here,” Palmer added.
“It was always part of the plan,” he reminded the man.
“Right. For now,” he said, standing up and shutting the cabinet doors under his sink, “you only have cold water in here.”
“That will work.” Max sighed.
“I’ll head back outside so you can continue your tour,” Palmer said to Juliette.
When they were alone again, Juliette glanced at the towering standalone stove. “I used your microwave earlier to heat the rolls and bacon. That thing belongs in a museum.”
“Or a horror movie.” He grinned. “I swear it makes noises at night.”
She laughed as he guided her past the outdated cupboards towards a small closet off the kitchen. He pulled open the door to reveal a cramped space still filled with boxes. “I’m planning to turn this into a butler’s pantry. There are stairs at the back that supposedly lead to a cellar. I’m hoping for some old wine racks down there. Or at least a decent place to store whiskey. I haven’t been down there to assess anything yet.”
Juliette shot him an amused glance. “Priorities.”
“Exactly.” He shut the door and motioned for her to follow him into the long, narrow room leading through the formal dining area.
“This will be my office.” He stepped inside, surveying the large space with its tall windows and broken fireplace mantel. Half of it lay on the floor, a testament to the building’s many years of wear. “It even has its own bathroom.”
Juliette ran her fingers lightly over the rough wood of the mantel. “Are you going to fix this?”
“Eventually. But first I need to make sure the house doesn’t fall down around me.”
She grinned. “Good plan.”
He led her out and into a small bathroom near the living room before guiding her up an old wooden staircase to the second floor. The steps creaked under their weight, the sound echoing in the quiet space.
“I’ve finally got all the furniture off of this floor,” he said when they were in the first bedroom on that floor. “Once Parker and Palmer assure me all the plumbing and power are shut off to this part, I’m going to help out by demo-ing the bathrooms up here myself.”
“Wow, you’re doing it yourself?” She ran a finger over the green countertop in the bathroom they stood in.
“Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard. A sledgehammer and jigsaw.” He shrugged.
She narrowed her eyes. “After your luck with simple plumbing, I’d be cautious.”
He chuckled. “I’ll make sure to wear a hardhat.”
They moved to the other side of the hallway, where an identical bedroom and bathroom sat. The pink tiles had Juliette laughing.
“I guess the interior was redone in the fifties?” she asked.
“Yeah, probably. The color choices are…”
“Retro.”
He nodded. “No one lived here back then. I think it was just a museum. At least I haven’t found any record of someone staying here full time.”
“So how do you get into the lighthouse from this floor?” Juliette asked when they reached the landing again. “Last night, we used a door at the end of the hallway downstairs. I would assume…” She walked over to a door and frowned when she opened it to find a linen closet.
Max smirked and walked to the other end of the hallway, where he placed his hand on a doorknob. “There’s an outside entrance as well as this entrance and the one downstairs.” He pushed open the door and motioned for her to step through.
She followed him into a narrow hallway leading directly into a circular staircase. The air felt different here—cooler, tinged with the scent of aged wood and the faintest hint of salt.
Juliette placed her hand on the smooth railing and peered upward to where the spiral of stairs disappeared into the shadows. A slow smile spread across her lips.
“I’d love to see the view this morning with the clear skies.” She glanced over at him. “Race you to the top?” she challenged.
Max groaned. “You just want to see if my head injury slows me down, don’t you?”
She laughed. “Maybe.”
Shaking his head, he followed her up, knowing that despite the house’s flaws, despite the endless work ahead of him, in this moment—with Juliette by his side—this place felt like an actual home for the first time.