Chapter 10
I have to wonder what she needs this time. Claire just called me, and with the desperation in her tone, I know she’s looking for another rescue from a slight issue with the cabin. Something about a sound in the basement, but I’m not too worried. When I was there to check the circuit box and repaired that wiring, I gave the underbelly of the cabin a quick look. No obvious holes for vermin to come in. No strange cracks or leaks that stood out. I’ve never needed to dabble with home-inspection services, but since I was there, I gave it a quick look.
I yawn as I get in my truck to drive over, curious, to say the least, but not worried. I imagine she’ll be tracking each minute it takes for me to arrive, and even though I warned her that I was about twenty minutes away at my home, she’s going to be one of those impatient people who obsess about the timing and hold a slight minute over as a grievance forever.
I should be amused about it all. Whatever is making those noises is probably nothing worrisome, but to a city girl like her who’s never had to deal with any maintenance or repairs of anything at all, it probably seems like the world is ending for her. It’s just another way I can see the differences between us. A woman used to living further from civilization wouldn’t freak out like this. A small-town woman could rationalize that something needed to be looked at in the morning. But not Claire. She didn’t insist that I come right away, but she asked. Nicely. And I’m just enough of a sucker to want to give in when she’s begging and pleading, so clearly needing me.
My younger brother, Kevin, used to give me so much crap about having a hero complex. He’d tease that I wanted to save everyone and deliver on every promise made. That being a “simple” minded man who works with his hands, that’s all I would ever have going for me. When he made those jabs and insulted me like that, it was when my high school girlfriend tried to two-time us. She was with me but broke up with me to hit on him. Then, when she grew bored of him, she’d end it with him and wanted me back. If I hadn’t been so young and stupid, I wouldn’t have entertained any of it, but I was just that, young and stupid, and Kevin’s words hurt just like he knew they would.
I could just see it now. Kevin would see me hurrying to Claire’s cabin because I wouldn’t know how to impress her in any other way than to “save” her. It was bullshit, but the thought struck me as I pulled up to her cabin and approached her door.
Why was I rushing to help her?
Why did I have to be so aware of her when I know she’s my opposite?
I don’t have a chance to knock on the door. She must have been looking out for me, because by the time I step onto her porch, the door flies open.
And there she is.
Damn, girl.
Last time, when I gave her those shoes, she wore a thick, plush white robe. Tonight, she gives me a peek at something else. In a short, silky robe, she taunts me to wonder if she is wearing a stitch of anything beneath it.
I draw in another deep breath, raking my gaze over her from her curly hair, down the robe she clutches together, all the way along those toned legs, to her bare feet. Hot pink polish glints from her nails, reflecting the light from the lamps.
“Claire.” I nod in acknowledgment, hopeful the next time I speak that it won’t sound so breathless.
She furrows her brow and licks her lips. “I think it’s a bear.”
She says it so gravely, so soberly, it’s comical. I want to laugh. It’s waiting right at the tip of my tongue, bubbling up my throat, but I settle for a smirk and roll my eyes instead.
“It’s a bear,” she insists, reaching forward to grab my wrist and tug me into the cabin.
I lurch forward, having just enough time to reach back for the doorknob to shut the door after me. I highly doubt a bear is in her basement. I saw no sign of one getting in there the other day. Unless Yogi Bear rented an excavator to drill his way down there in a tunnel, she is more likely to receive a bear visitor by leaving her front door wide open.
That push and pull makes me stumble forward, and I reach out and grab her arm. The shoes I bought for her are right there on the floor just inside, near the entrance. She hasn’t worn them. They remain as clean and brand-new as they were the day I delivered them. A small part of me worries that I was an idiot. That I never should have considered buying such a stupid, practical thing for a high-maintenance woman like her. I knew she probably wouldn’t use them. I haven’t seen her set foot outside for days. Unlike when she was spying on me and watching me from afar, my act of gifting her shoes made her do a one-eighty and stop looking for me at all. Which means I’m the one seeking her out.
I learned my lesson long ago. I won’t chase another woman with expensive tastes again. But here I am, falling against her with her haste to get me inside. If she were hurrying me in for something naughty, I wouldn’t be opposed to that. But she’s not. Her eyes are still wide with panic, frantic to usher me toward the imaginary bear.
That annoying need to please and deliver takes over me, so when I find my footing, almost caging her to the wall, I want to soften and comfort her. Against my better judgment, I want to soothe her and solve her worries.
“It’ll be okay, Claire.”
She swallows, darting her gaze all over my face. I don’t know what she’s searching for, but for once, I want her to see that I’m not here to rile her up. Not this time.
“What does it sound like?” I ask. I ball my free hand into a fist to stop from reaching up and brushing her hair back, and I can’t bear to think of releasing her upper arm. She sucks in a deep breath and parts her lips, darting her stare from my lips to my eyes. She’s still uneasy about this sound that she’s panicked about, but I might be distracting her with a hard hit of attraction, too.
“It’s a cranky sound.”
“A cranky bear.”
She scowls. “A cranking noise. Then a grinding one.”
I shake my head. “Not following.”
After she licks her lips, she makes the noises. Her mimicking what she heard is so comical, and I smile.
Do you have any clue how adorably sexy you are?
“It’s a bear.”
I shake my head. It sounds like a gear stuck somewhere. “You stay here, and I’ll take a look.”
She nods, only now seeming to realize I’ve been holding her upper arm. I release her and step back, needing the clarity of distance from her.
I go downstairs and notice a fainter clicking sound coming from behind the utility door. I glance down at myself, loathing that I’m not wearing my usual worn work clothes, but I sigh and open the door to see what work needs to be done.
Just like I suspected, the blower on the furnace is the culprit, and with a little bit of finagling, I fix the issue and retreat from the slim area. I can only imagine what she’ll think when she sees me covered in dirt and grime in her space.
She cringes, looking me up and down when I go back upstairs. “Find the bear?”
“Nope. Just the blower on the furnace acting like a punk.” I narrow my eyes as I lift my shirt to wipe my brow. A squeal reaches my ears, but I don’t miss how her eyes linger on my abs before I drop my shirt. “What’s that?
She lifts her face, blinking quickly. “What?”
I will never tire of catching her looking at me like she wants me for dessert. “That squeal.”
She points up. “The fan.”
I huff and shake my head. From here, I see the slow drip of the sink in the kitchen. Between the plops of water and the fan blade, she must be going nuts. “Anything else I can do here?”
It’s a loaded question, and while I have something wicked in mind, I’m sincerely asking about repairs.
She crooks her finger, beckoning me to follow her toward the bedroom, and I wonder if she read me correctly, or incorrectly, I suppose. I’m quiet as she takes me on a pathetic tour of maintenance past due. Wobbly showerhead in the master bath. The door to her room doesn’t shut properly. A draft in every window. I sigh, making a list on a piece of scrap paper.
When we end up in the living room again, I tell her the truth. “I met Dalton right after he bought this property. It used to be owned by a big vacation rental company. They were called luxury cabins, like Airbnbs. While they look nice and modern, they weren’t built well.”
“I can tell.” She crosses her arms, glaring at the squeaky fan overhead.
“I can see if my brother Jason has time to work on this.”
She brightens, making this late night all worth the while. “The one who has a crush on Marian at the Goldfinch.”
I chuckle. I want to be here to see more of those smiles. “Yeah, but I can handle this instead, actually.” I’m all for spending more time with Claire and hanging out. She shouldn’t be in my thoughts, but I can’t shove her out of my mind.
“I’ll come over tomorrow and start on some of those things.”
She follows me to the door, and I can’t help but wish I could ask if she’ll still be wearing that robe then.
“Thanks, by the way,” she says softly as she toes the shoes at the door.
I follow the tap of her hot pink toenails on the white of the sneakers, then I drag my gaze up along her leg, wishing my hands—and mind—weren’t so filthy that I can’t touch her.
I sigh. “Anytime.”
As I leave, I wonder when I became a glutton for punishment. Putting myself in the position to be near such a high-maintenance woman so far out of my league is nothing but asking for trouble.