3. Jade
JADE
I feel like a fraud.
Until I stepped inside River’s cabin, I was convinced I could pull this off. That I could pretend that I had a fucking clue about antiques and their values while secretly leaning on Google’s expertise.
How hard could it be?
That mantra and the questionable bravery that came with it were courtesy of my friend Sangria.
“I know it’s a lot,” River says as I linger just inside the front door, staring at the task before me. The sight reminds me of the overflow room the teachers use to stash things they’ll deal with later—later has yet to arrive—but the contents here are more organized and not hidden from daylight.
Marty sits at my side, his giant body pressed against my leg. I absently stroke my fingers behind his ears, thankful he’s here to ground me.
Because of course Natasha and Josh went right for the guest cabin.
They promised to get us settled in, but I’m not stupid. I’d bet my rare book collection that they’re already naked. I have at least an hour to kill—maybe two considering they were not able to join the mile high club on the way out here.
When River mentioned a cabin, I pictured something…smaller. Not the two-story monstrosity perched on the top of the steepest hill in town like some castle. The living room alone is bigger than my apartment.
“Is this all of it?” The question comes out as more of a squeak, so I clear my throat and clarify, “All of what you want me to sort through?”
Stacks of boxes line the walls in an orderly fashion, as though someone catalogued everything ahead of time. The teeniest bit of relief settles in. Maybe I can pull this off after all.
“Not even close,” River says, laughing. It’s a sound my author bestie would describe as a sexy grunt laced with humor or something to that effect.
To say that River Donohue is attractive would be the understatement of the century.
The man is built like a Greek god—something his flannel shirt does not hide well.
His light blue eyes are the color of a freshly frosted lake in winter.
And that beard…I knew last night when I answered his video call that that fucking beard would be trouble.
It’s taken practiced restraint not to run my fingers through it.
I might have to stand on a stepstool to reach it. But that’s beside the point.
“You okay with that?” River asks.
Heat instantly creeps up my neck and settles on my cheeks at the realization I hadn’t heard a damn thing he just said. Hell, had he caught me staring at his beard?
“Um, yep. Totally good.”
For all I know, I agreed to re-shingle the roof. But I’m too embarrassed to ask him to repeat the question.
“I’ll let you get started then,” he says, something akin to a smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. As though he knows I hadn’t heard him earlier.
“Right now?”
Though the sun hasn’t disappeared completely behind the horizon, it’s on the verge.
I’m also a bit jetlagged and in desperate need of a shower.
But considering I forgot to pack my noise-canceling headphones, getting a head start on the job I’m completely unqualified to complete but somehow managed to Sangria-talk myself and said employer into is probably not the worst idea.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” River says, eyebrows drawn in confusion. Fuck, this is probably what I agreed to.
“Right. I’ll, uh, just…start in this corner over here.”
“Or I can show you the rest of the cabin so you make a plan of attack like I offered,” River says, moving toward the staircase at the back of the room.
Dammit. He absolutely knows I was distracted.
“A tour sounds like a great idea.” I follow him up the creaky stairs, making a silent vow to listen. Even if I have to close my eyes to concentrate. Which I do as I climb the staircase because I can’t seem to stop staring at his firm ass.
It would be such a terrible idea to sleep with my new boss for normal, generic reasons.
But add on the false accusations that got me suspended from my teaching position, and it would be catastrophic.
My too-small-for-its-own-good Indiana town would decide I’m a harlot who sleeps her way to the top.
As though there were some top to rise to.
I’m better than that.
And, if by some miracle I can pull off this appraisal job, River might be a valuable reference on my resume. The man might very well hold my future in the palm of his hand. I can’t let something like simple lust derail that only hope I’ve had in weeks.
Marty zips by us, charging down the hall and darting into a room on the left. He hops onto a king-sized bed and stares at us expectantly.
“Don’t mind him,” River says over his shoulder, stopping just outside the bedroom. “He’s retired.”
“Retired?”
“He’s a Marine.”
“But you said he’s retired.”
“Once a Marine, always a Marine.”
“Except now, while he’s bouncing on your bed?” My nipples tighten at the thought of me bouncing on that bed. Preferably with two hundred pounds of mountain man on top, bouncing with me.
Get a fucking grip, Jade.
“He’s earned the right.”
I’m about to ask how River ended up with a retired military dog when the shrill ring of a phone cuts me off.
He pulls a phone from his shirt pocket. “I need to take this,” he says, moving past me toward the stairs. His bicep brushes my shoulder, and dammit if heat doesn’t coil low in my belly at the briefest physical contact. “Head down the hall. Last door to your right.”
“Right,” I say, though the reply is to myself since the man has already flown down the stairs as if the cabin were on fire.
I glance at Marty on the bed. The pup looks both annoyed and disappointed that I haven’t joined him. I grip the doorframe with both hands, fighting the temptation to step into River’s bedroom.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’ve known this stranger for all of an hour.
“You coming with me?” I ask Marty, forcing myself to continue down the hall.
I pass a couple of closed doors before I reach the one River indicated.
I twist the knob and gasp. I’m not prepared for the sheer amount of items that greet me.
Several stacks of boxes brush the ceiling.
They’re neatly arranged, with tight paths between sections.
There’s hardly room to sort through a box in here.
How the hell am I supposed to get through everything in the house in just a week?
It’s no wonder River was so eager to hire me. I’m no doubt the only sucker na?ve enough to accept a job without asking the proper questions—like, how much is there to sort through in such a tight timeframe. A sane person would’ve requested photographic evidence or maybe a video before agreeing.
But desperate-to-get-out-of-town Jade, who was three Sangrias in, accepted the job without a single question about the actual scope of work involved.
To be fair, I was so stunned that I’d pulled off this ruse that saying no seemed stupid. I’d come this far.
And the idea of leaving town immediately was the best-case scenario I could’ve hoped for.
Never mind that it came with double pay.
I was growing tired of dirty looks at the grocery store, the post office, and even the gas station.
It was as though Principal Seymour had posted flyers all over town, accusing me of trying to come on to him before the truth even had a chance to surface.
Asshole.
Karma would take care of him someday.
But today?
Today, I have to figure out how the hell I’m going to tackle this enormous job I’m massively underqualified to do.
Marty presses his weight against my leg, insisting on head scratches.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I say to the dog, crouching down. “I don’t know how I’m going to pull this off.”
Marty licks my cheek and my heart melts. I’ve always wanted a dog, but my apartment doesn’t allow them. And growing up, Grandma Charlotte was allergic—
“Grandma Charlotte!” I whisper-exclaim, a wave of relief washing over me. My antique-loving grandmother would be in absolute heaven tackling a job like this. First thing tomorrow morning, I’d give her a call and beg her to be my consultant.
Maybe—just maybe—I can pull this off without River discovering I’m a fraud.