Page 23 of Fifty-Fifty

“And it’s in a few weeks?”

“Yup.”

He takes a seat on the bar stool before pullin’ out his cell and openin’ the notes app. His calloused fingers fly across the screen as he gets to work, makin’ notes along with a to-do list.

“Perfect. I’ll get started on it right away. I also need to head to the hardware store for a few things.”

My brows crinkle. “Like what?”

He looks up at me, his fingers pausin’ in their current task. “Like some new paint for the shutters and front door. Some WD-40 for the cupboards that creak like there’s no tomorrow. And,” he glances down at his phone, “oh yeah, the grout in the bathrooms looks like it could use a little attention, too. I’m going to patch a few spots then seal the whole thing. Other than that, I think this place is still in decent shape. You’ve done a pretty good job keeping this place in good condition, Beau. But that doesn’t mean it’s not going to need some more elbow grease before the festival if we want to get some good reviews going.”

My cheeks heat at his compliment. He’s right. This place is gonna need a hell of a lot of elbow grease, but I’m glad I won’t be the only one contributin’ anymore. At least for a few weeks, anyway.

I’m about to ask if he’ll pick up some fresh flowers, too, to brighten up the place, when the baby monitor starts goin’ crazy, lettin’ me know that my sweet pea’s awake.

Wiping the bacon grease off my hands and onto the front of my apron, I say, “Be right back.”

I start to head to the stairs when his brusque voice stops me. “I can get her, if you want? I need to go grab my laptop in my room anyway so we can start on the website update.”

He doesn’t move a muscle as he waits for my approval to his suggestion.

I appreciate the fact that he’s waitin’ instead of assumin’ I’d want his help. Other than Jay, all of the men I’ve dealt with have never really given me a chance to disagree with them. They’ve always assumed they know what’s best for me and act accordin’ly without takin’ me and my feelin’s into consideration.

It’s annoyin’ as hell, so I’m grateful when Noah does the opposite. Patiently waitin’ for me to acknowledge his comment and respond however I feel is best.

I glance over at him, and our gazes connect. I smile softly, and he reciprocates. “All right. I’d appreciate that. Let me finish up the bacon, then we can sit down and discuss what kind of promotions we wanna start.”

He nods in agreement. “Sounds good. I’ll be right back.”

And with that, he’s gone. Leavin’ me with a couple minutes to consider the strange man who’s swept into my life, makin’ me wonder if chivalry ain’t dead after all.

* * *

The next week goes by without a hitch. We wake up early in the mornin’ to plan our never-endin’ to-do list for the day, then we spend the rest of our time crossin’ things off. It’s busy as hell, but it feels good to get shit done for a change. And it’s even better when I have someone there to help carry the burden.

I ain’t gonna say Noah and I are friends... yet. But we do seem to get along. He still disappears during supper time, and he doesn’t usually stick around after the to-do list is finished for the day, but I’m slowly gettin’ more comfortable havin’ him around. And don’t even get me started on Mac.

I have no doubt that her bitty heart is gonna break when he finally leaves.

And he will leave.

Of that, I have no doubt.

After the fall festival, Noah will be gone faster than a coon dog after a fox. He wants his tattoo shop more than anything. And it scares me every time his mobile rings.

Today ain’t no different. Mac and I are gettin’ ready for church, headin’ down the stairs with plenty of time for our walk to the chapel down the street.

When Noah’s phone starts chirpin’, I damn near have a heart attack.

“Shit!” I screech, causin’ Mac to echo my sentiments.

“Shh, sweet pea. We don’t say that word,” I admonish her, though I don’t have much of a leg to stand on. She did just hear me say the same thing.

Some example I am.

Noah steps out from around the corner, silencin’ his phone and slidin’ it into the back pocket of his worn blue jeans.

I can’t help the goosebumps that spread across my skin as his eyes scan me from head to toe, takin’ in my olive green dress that reaches just above my knees, paired with my worn brown ridin’ boots that’ll keep my legs warm from the brisk air.

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