Page 5 of Morning Wood

He can't be ripped, kind, funny, have beautiful eyes, and an incredible smile. Life has taught me that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. I just need to find out who the real Beck is. I'm sure he'll show me a side of himself that will send me running.

The mysterious and ridiculously sexy man holds out his hand, much like he did yesterday. I have no intention of shaking it, yet I find myself setting down the heavier-than-expected candlestick and lifting my hand toward his.

As soon as our skin touches, Beck wraps his fingers around mine, engulfing my smaller hand in his much larger one. “Let’s try this again,” he says, his voice lower than before. “I’m Beck. The town carpenter. I had no idea anyone was in the old Leavenworth home when I walked in yesterday. I simply love fixing up places that have been neglected or mishandled. I enjoy seeing the progress and knowing I helped restore dignity and beauty to something that was once overlooked.”

Holy shit, are we talking about houses or me at this point? How does he know everything I want to hear?

I realize I’ve just been staring at him with my big dopey eyes. He probably regrets coming over here in the first place.

“Bea. I am. Beatrix, actually.” I wince at how awkward I am. I suppose there’s no hiding that I haven’t had a lot of conversations with people in general, let alone this Greek god of a man.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you, Bea,” he says, shaking my hand slowly. The way he says it makes it sound like he’s been waiting for me his whole life, but that can’t be right.

The moment becomes too much and I slip my hand from his so I can cross my arms over my chest. Beck’s eyes follow the motion, then pause on my breasts before he finally looks up at the ceiling and clears his throat.

I realize all too late that I jumped out of bed in nothing more than my tiny sleep shorts with cute clouds on them and an old tank top that’s a few sizes too small. Oh my god, I repeat over and over in my head. For having zero experience with men, I’ve now flaunted my flabby body in front of this ripped, gorgeous man twice.

“So, the door,” he starts, clearly wanting to change the subject. I’m sure he’s uncomfortable with how I look and all the skin I’m showing. Usually, I cover my curves in a few layers of clothes.

“Yes, the door,” I repeat, thankful for something else to talk about.

Beck walks out onto the porch, leaving me just inside the entryway. “Now, it’s only temporary. I’ll have to replace the frame, work on the siding, and gut this entire porch. But it’s certainly better than the piece of cardboard and rusted nails you had here yesterday.”

I blink a few times, trying to catch up with what he’s saying. “I, uh I didn’t ask you to do this,” I say, my voice not as confident as I would like.

Anxiety pushes to the surface, trudging up things from the past I thought I had buried long ago. Worst-case scenarios play over and over in my mind until I can't contain them anymore and they all come spilling out.

“How do I know you installed it the right way and aren’t just going to remove the door from its hinges and sneak in at night? Or what if you made ten copies of the key so you can come and go whenever you want? What else have you done to my house? What if–”

“Breathe for me, sweetheart,” Beck says in a soothing voice.

In my stubbornness, I double down on my rant, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me breathe at his command.

“What if you had security cameras installed? Or switched out the locks in my room and are planning to keep me trapped there while you ransack my home? You… you could…”

I finally run out of air, growing a bit dizzy as I gasp for breath. Beck places his hand on my shoulder, keeping me steady. Normally, I don’t like to be touched. I have a pretty big bubble of personal space. After a lifetime of human contact bringing nothing but pain, I guess I got used to avoiding any kind of physical touch or intimacy. I’d be lying if I said Beck’s touch didn’t calm me down. I feel safe, warm, and protected while he’s close. That won’t last forever, though. I’ve seen how things like this play out.

"I'm so sorry for whatever happened in your life to make you wary of every good deed." Beck strokes the pad of his thumb against the side of my neck, sending flutters and spikes of heat ricocheting through my veins and nerve endings. "I saw your door was busted and I didn't like how easy it was for me to wander inside. I had all the tools, parts, and an extra door lying around because I'm a carpenter and this is my skill set. That's all. Nothing nefarious. Nothing conspiratorial. Just taking care of a neighbor because that's what we do here in Winifred. We take care of our own."

Our own? Does that mean… I’m in that group of people? I belong here?

I can’t pull my eyes away from his, wanting to believe his words and yet not knowing if that will ever be true for me. Stupid tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Beck doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. His crystal blue eyes peer right down into my damn soul. It’s like he’s rearranging all the broken pieces and making room for himself so he can start fixing me the same way he wants to fix up this house.

I’m the one to break eye contact first, taking a step back and partially closing the door so I can hide my nearly-naked body behind it while still poking my head out to talk to Beck.

“So, what about the locks?” I ask, hanging on to the one protest he didn’t address earlier. I’m trying to be strong and assertive, but I’m about to break down and confess that I’m in way over my head and I feel like a lost little kid who should know more about the real world by now.

“I have the number of the town locksmith. As soon as I’m done here, he’ll stop by with a few of his workers and replace the locks, making sure you have the only copies of the key.” I nod, satisfied with his answer. “Of course, once the structural work is complete, we’ll install a security system that uses your fingerprint to operate. It will detect anything within the property line.”

“Of all the things I didn’t ask you for, that is at the top of the list,” I respond, holding my chin up high. “Besides, I thought everyone looked out for each other in Winifred. Why would I need such a fancy security system if this town is so friendly?” I lift an eyebrow and give the ridiculously sexy man a smirk, knowing I won this round.

Beck doesn’t miss a beat. His face grows serious, though his eyes remain gentle. “It would help me sleep at night knowing you’re as safe and protected as possible.”

Well, shit. I wasn’t expecting that answer. I want to believe him. My heart is tripping all over itself at his words and at the possibility that he cares about me enough to lose sleep over my safety.

However, I don’t really know Beck. Maybe he’s being nice because I’m the shiny new toy in town and he’s already been through everyone else. Maybe he’s playing some long-con to get me to move out of the house so he can take it for himself. There are hundreds of reasons this man is being nice to me, and I’d believe every single one of them before letting my emotions get the best of me.

I open my mouth to respond, then close it again, sucking on my lips before trying once more to think of a comeback. “Maybe the town needs protection from me, did you ever think about that?”

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