Chapter 19—Wolfe
Wolfe worked to build a holder for the half-dozen extension cords in his possession. They were neatly stacked in the corner of his one-car garage that served more as a workshop than anything, but the cords needed to be organized.
Hell, maybe he didn’t need that many extension cords. He wasn’t a full-time contractor; he was a professional hockey player for fuck’s sake.
The dark clouds rolling over the mountains to the west marked another typical summer day filled with an afternoon shower or lightning storm in Colorado.
The angry-colored clouds matched Wolfe’s mood, that was for certain.
Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor ripped through the speaker mounted in the garage and paralleled his foul attitude with its powerful notes blasting from the organ.
He just didn’t get Aspen, or the financial hole she seemed to be stuck in. He could help. He offered to help and yet she continued to decline his proposals.
Her unwillingness to allow Wolfe to help when he had the means to provide her financial assistance formed a wedge between them.
Wolfe thought back to the argument they had after another round of incredible sex.
Her obstinance at accepting his monetary help poked at him until his own frustration burst forth.
In a moment where they should have been touching and tasting and preparing for round two, they were both blustering and jockeying for position. And not sexual positions.
It seemed so senseless that the only help she would accept from him was in the form of the small handyman tasks he’d completed around the shop.
He already had the name of an HVAC specialist to replace her pitiful air conditioning unit with a newer model.
A unit that would maximize energy efficiency and save her money in the long run, but the boss baker wouldn’t budge from her stance of not accepting his financial help.
He still couldn’t define where they were on the relationship scale. Did off-the-chart sex and hanging out constitute as a full-blown relationship? Casual, friends-with-benefits, quasi-dating?
This entire situation involved a scenario Wolfe had never faced. All he knew was that he wanted, no needed, to make things easier for Aspen but she wouldn’t budge.
Stubborn woman.
He wasn’t being a dick about it. Providing her with some capital so she had firmer ground on which to stand with her business meant little to his bottom line. Damn, he’d blown thirty-grand during a Vegas weekend when a teammate turned twenty-one a couple of years ago.
Was it so hard for her to accept that he just wanted to make her life a little easier?
Yes, they’d dropped the debate quicker than a hot potato the other day, each of them retreating to their respective corners as to not upset this growing and undefined thing between them.
Wolfe was an extreme competitor and always won, so he’d figure out a way to get what he wanted in this scenario.
In fact, he’d been researching some statewide grants for women business owners and planned to apply on BB’s behalf.
There was no way she would turn down a grant if she was awarded the money.
His phone rang, pausing the building finale of one of Bach’s finest pieces and interrupting his grand plans.
BB’s contact displayed on his phone.
“Hey, BB. What’s up?”
“Hi, Connor,” she seemed hesitant in her response. “I was wondering if you were around. I have something for you. Would you mind if I stopped by?”
Her tone was totally out of character for his—was she his?— bold, wild-haired woman, who tried to dictate all of the playground rules. But what confounded him was the notion she wanted to stop by.
Women didn’t come to his house. Ever.
His teammates didn’t come to his house. Ever. Not even Dante.
“Yeah, sure,” Wolfe heard himself say, and then surprised himself even more when he offered her his address.
Was he coming or going? He wasn’t quite sure when it came to Aspen, but he’d better figure it the fuck out, and soon.
Wolfe finished hanging the extension cords on the hooks he mounted into the garage wall, then hustled inside to take a quick shower.
He was throwing a t-shirt on when he heard the doorbell ring.
He finished dressing and headed to the front door, dragging his fingers through his wet hair to keep it off his face and out of his stubbled beard.
“Hi,” she said, a soft smile touching her beautiful face, the purest of cream with a handful of freckles dotting skin, and devoid of any make-up.
Jesus, he had it bad.
“Hi,” Wolfe’s voice croaked, sounding husky and desire filled. “C’mon in.”
He held the door open for her to enter the small foyer at the opening of his home. Aspen looked beyond the entrance to the living room filled with a giant couch and a massive television that dominated the space.
“This is nice.”
“Thanks.”
Why was it so awkward between them when they never had a lull in conversation before?
Oh, yeah, they were fighting over money and not even an official couple.
“Look, Connor, I just wanted to come and apologize,” she rushed out the words. “I am so grateful for the help you’ve given me over the last few weeks and I want to say thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Is there a but here?”
Holy fuck is she ending this when we haven’t even defined what it is?
“No!” she practically yelled. “I just... I know you don’t understand about not taking money or exploring other options, but it’s just where I am right now.
I don’t want to argue with you, Connor. I have a plan for my business, and I know I’m going to meet my goals.
Honestly, I’m on track to transition to a better financial place sooner than later. ”
Wolfe thought long and hard about his response. He had plenty to say, but at the end of the day, it was her business. And if she’d accept his handyman work, he’d take it and let the big stuff be. He knew over time he could change her mind. He would change her mind.
He would pause and regroup. For now.
“All right, BB. I’ll let you work to grow your business as you see fit.”
She cocked an eyebrow his way, questioning how quickly he acquiesced. “Really?”
“Really, really,” he said, knowing he’d figure out a way to help her get what she needed for her shop, even if it meant orchestrating some bogus air conditioner lottery. “Now, what’s in the bag you’re clutching?”
“I wanted to say thank you for all of your help, and since you don’t eat sweets,” she thrusted the gift bag against his chest. “I had to get creative.”
“You can get creative with me anytime, BB,” Wolfe drew out the sentence thinking of many ways and places his boss baker could get imaginative with him.
Her cheeks tinted crimson. “Just open your gift.”
Wolfe pulled apart the bag to reveal a lavender t-shirt with a silk screen on the front. “Justin Bieber? Sweet.”
“You’ve mentioned him a couple of times and it seems to me you might be a ‘Belieber’ in your spare time.”
“Well played, BB. Well played.”
He handed the bag back to Aspen, took off his REO Speedwagon tee and replaced it with her gift.
Aspen’s eyes tracked the movement of the t-shirt until it completely covered his abdomen. She then gave her head a shake like she was breaking up cobwebs.
“Question.”
“Answer,” Wolfe retorted.
“Why do you wear mostly rock band t-shirts when you only listen to classical music?”
Again, this woman. He’d known Dante for more than a decade and even he didn’t know.
“I’m just an enigma. I like to keep people guessing,” he explained, erecting the wall he effectively used to keep people out.
“You are an enigma, but I call bullshit,” Aspen said smartly, completely ignoring the perfectly good wall Wolfe built. “Look, I’m not looking to read your childhood diary, Connor. Just... I don’t know, I’d like you to trust me enough to let me in. Just a bit.”
“My diary reads like Penthouse Forum. You sure you don’t want to take a peek, BB?” Wolfe trailed the backs of his fingers down her arm. “That might come in handy with all that creativity you’re touting.”
“I’m serious, Connor. Please.”
It suddenly felt too real. Too much. But one look into her muted green eyes so filled with compassion and maybe even, fuck, love, he wanted to tell her, at least share part of the story.
“All right. You know my dad and I have a shitty relationship?” Wolfe continued when she nodded.
“Before it was... bad, it wasn’t. My dad taught me construction basics.
We were actually quite close. Anyway, he had—has, I’m sure—an incredible collection of rock albums from the seventies and eighties.
I remember constantly going through the covers of the albums while the music blared through the house. ”
“What changed with your dad that your relationship is so strained now?”
“Let’s just say shit happened. So, anyway, I wear rock band t-shirts to remember a time that doesn’t exist anymore.”
The air seemed to thicken around him and his eyes stung a bit. Wolfe could guaran-damn-tee himself that he wouldn’t cry like a fucking pussy because he had daddy issues. No, his concerns ran much, much deeper.
He couldn’t think of any of those concerns at the moment because Aspen threw herself into his arms and hugged him like they were struggling to stay afloat in the ocean.
Maybe it was Wolfe who needed the life preserver.
“Thank you for sharing that,” Aspen wrapped a hand in his hair that hung loose at his shoulders. “It means more to me than you know.”
Wolfe hung on to her for a few moments before she tilted up her face to kiss him softly on the lips.
“Tell you what. Since I’m sporting this amazing new t-shirt that screams ‘check me out,’ let’s go to a nifty food truck that serves a mean street taco. Then will come back here and I’ll give you the grand tour.”
Wolfe surprised himself at the offer, as if Aspen already belonged in this space.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Does the tour end in your bedroom?”
“Damn straight.”
A mega-wat smile lit up her gorgeous face. “Then lead the way.”