Page 48 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

“Can I help at all?” Evie asks softly.

I glance at her and back at the house. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

Working alone is going to cut by half what I’d planned on getting done today. Add the time it will take for me to drive Blaine all the way home to Fish Haven, and I’ll get even less done. But sometimes he can be hard to settle down if he gets upset, and the anniversary of his wife and child’s death always gets him upset.

When I look back at Blaine, his eyes are a deep well of sadness. If anyone shouldn’t be alone today, it’s him.

I put my arm around his shoulders. “You want to try sleeping it off, Buddy? I’ve got a blanket in my truck you can use.”

He nods again, and his lip slides into a line of relief. I walk him to his truck, help him lie down, then go to my truck for the blanket I keep there for emergencies.

Evie follows me there. “Should I run back to Britta’s for coffee?”

“Maybe when he wakes up.” I shut the truck door behind me and face her. Her face is soft with a concern that fills me with gratitude. She’s not judging Blaine. She wouldn’t be the first if she did, but it speaks volumes about her that she’s not. That fact makes me even more certain I shouldn’t let fear—hers and mine—keep us from getting to know each other better.

“Sometimes he’s okay if he can sleep for a few hours,” I continue. “Hopefully, this is one of those times. If it’s not, though, I don’t want him revved up on caffeine. It only makes things worse.”

I carry the blanket to Blaine’s truck and help him get settled. I basically tuck him in, and it says a lot about what kind of state he’s in that he lets me. But he’s docile enough that there’s a good chance he’ll be okay in a few hours. He can get in half a day before he’ll need another drink.

Once Blaine is taken care of, I head back to the house. Evie is standing in front of it, and I join her. Worry claws its way up my chest as I look at the hollow structure. Construction workers have a reputation for never staying on schedule, and I don’t want to be one of those guys. I’ve finished on schedule or early the few jobs I’ve taken on since I started my construction company.

But there’s no way I’m staying on schedule with this one. The fact my brother is the contractor who hired me only makes me more upset about being off track.

“Now what can I do to help?” Evie asks and puts her hands on her hips, like she’s ready to tackle the entire project by herself.

“You know anything about framing?” I huff a laugh. I appreciate she wants to help, but there’s not much she can do.

“No, but I’m not wearing a dress, and I have a hard hat.” She points to her head and for the first time, I notice her hard hat is pink. “So I guess I’m ready for anything. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

I shake my head.Thanks but no thanksis on the tip of my tongue, but the set of her jaw stops me.

“I’m serious,” she says. “I’m not leaving you here alone. I can hold whatever you need me to hold, and I know my way around a hammer.”

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Spending the morning with Evie sounds a lot better than spending it alone, even if her help might make things harder and I have to keep my swearing to a minimum. “How about a nail gun? You know your way around one of those?”

Her pupils go wide. “No, but I’ve always wanted to learn.”

I swallow hard. The excitement in her eyes has chased my anxiety away and left me with something very different. Any more talk about nails and hammers, and I may lose my mind. I guess this is what not being around a woman for a few months does to me. I’m as bad as a fifteen-year-old boy.

“Alright, but you’re not allowed to use it without me. Hard hat won’t protect you from shooting a nail through your hand.”

She winces. “That happens?”

“Sometimes. Usually not if you’re sober.” I nudge her toward the house. “First thing we have to do is measure, then I’ll snap layout lines, so we make sure everything is square to the foundation.”

The foundation is raised, and I hold out a hand to help Evie step up. Despite the cold, when she touches my fingers, a flash of warmth shimmies up my arm.

“I’m not entirely sure what you just said, but I’ll figure it out as we go.” She drops my hand, but she stands close, and I still feel her warmth.

“We’ll start by measuring that side.” I point to the spot on the other side of the house where the longest wall will be. “Every sixteen inches, we chalk so we know where the studs go. The studs that were still sturdy I kept up, but most of them had to come down.”

I position Evie on one end of the wall, then hand her the tape measure end to hold while I run it along the wall. I start at the corner post stud still standing and make red chalk marks on the subfloor every sixteen inches.

“Do you want me to start on this side?” Evie asks. “I’m pretty good with chalk.”

I answer by tossing her a piece of chalk. It arcs through the air, and she expertly catches it with one hand.

“Nice catch,” I say. “Mark every sixteen inches.”

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