Page 66 of His Old Lady

Chapter 23

Faye

The skeletal steelframes of the greenhouse rose from the ground. The heavy-duty plastic that covered the structure was gone. Faye sniffed and shook her head. The flames or smoke had blackened the concrete path up to the now-absent door. There were bits of branches and white identification tags from the pots littering the charred ground.

There wasn't a colorful petal to be found.

"Do you have insurance on the greenhouse?" asked Curley.

She nodded. "It's included with the house insurance."

"You can rebuild." He gripped the back of her neck, and she leaned toward his broad body, unable to handle everything on her own.

Life seemed fragile at the moment. Every step forward brought up another roadblock in front of her.

"Let's go inside. We can deal with everything in the morning." He walked with her around the house and grabbed the duffle off his motorcycle.

He followed her inside, locking the door behind them. She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, staring at the contents.

"Are you hungry?"

She sighed and shut the door. "No."

Food was the last thing on her mind. Her crazy night turned devastating, and having Curley here overwhelmed her in her vulnerable state. She had no idea what she was supposed to do.

But she wanted him to stay. She'd fall apart if left alone.

"I'm supposed to provide the flowers for Carrie Young's wedding in three weeks. Mother's Day is in four weeks. The greenhouse was full of..." She leaned against the counter. "I don't know how long it'll take the insurance company to issue me a check—or if they will. Even if I get enough money to rebuild tomorrow, I wouldn't have time to grow the plants from seed."

"We'll solve all the problems tomorrow." He shrugged off his vest and placed it on the back of the dining room chair. "In the meantime, there isn't anything you can do tonight."

She gawked at him. He handled everything with ease, except her. If a problem popped up, he had the answer on how to solve it. If life was so simple, why couldn't he admit he had feelings for her?

It was as if he rather focus on everything but her.

The greenhouse belonged to her. She would figure out how to survive after the fire. There was no other option.

The money she had saved wasn't enough to rebuild. The extra money was supposed to be added on to the sale of the house, eventually, and used to purchase a new place. A bigger piece of property and a more accommodating greenhouse and land to grow inside and out.

Without the greenhouse, the equity in Grandma June's house went down. It would take her longer to save more money to get what she wanted.

"Let's go to bed." He held out his hand.

She slipped her fingers into his rough palm. "I want to take a shower first."

"While you get ready, I'll hop in and warm up the water for you." He stopped in her bedroom and bent over to unlace his boots.

"You don't have to stay with me. I'll be fine...I always am."

He kicked off his boots and took his pistol out from underneath his belt. Apparently, she wasn't going to change his mind, and she was secretly glad.

"We have shit to do in the morning. It'll save me a trip," he said.

"Oh."

He glanced at her. She hadn't meant for him to hear the disappointment in her voice. Only once, she wanted to hear the real reason he was going to stay with her instead of the pity she believed he was giving her.

"Towels?"

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