Page 36 of Montana Heat

He nodded. “Yes. Although I don’t want that on social media.”

“Are you sure? I think people would love hearing how this all got started.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“If you’re worried it’s not interesting, don’t be. People love origin stories. Even things we don’t find interesting, they usually do.”

“I got my start in woodworking with this knife right here.” He picked up one of the smallest and most unassuming of the lot.

I definitely wanted to take a picture of that. It would be great for the “About Us” page. Surely someone here had a high-end camera I could use. The camera on this burner phone wasn’t the best.

“I don’t want it on social media because I was ten years old, locked in my room, and hoping I wasn’t going to have to use it as a weapon against my own parents.”

Chapter Ten

Kenzie

What could I even say to that?

I didn’t have to say anything, because Jensen continued, looking down at the knife. “That’s how I got my start in woodcarving. I spent a lot of time alone in my room, and I never knew if they were going to try to come in and take something of mine to see if they could sell or trade it for drugs.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged and set down the knife. “I started with little pieces then got better from there. By the time I was an adult, I was carving much more elaborate stuff. But my carving knife was, first and foremost, a weapon for a little kid who didn’t have much security.”

I swallowed hard. “Then I can understand why you don’t want any of that on social media. We can manipulate the narrative a little, if you want. Just say you started carving as a child and that this was the knife you used.”

The rest of his story would probably sell a lot more pieces—people loved trauma—but I didn’t have to ask Jensen to know that wasn’t going tofly.

“Maybe. We’ll see.” He stepped away from the table. “Do you have enough to get you going? I’ve got to get to work.”

I hated that we’d lost all the enthusiasm that had lit his face when we’d first walked in here. “Yeah, I definitely have enough to get started.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you later.”

Without another word, he left the workshop bay. I made my way back to the office, chatting to Susanna for a couple minutes. She was surprised but delighted to hear what I’d be doing. I was glad she didn’t feel like I’d be stepping on her toes.

I spent the next few hours familiarizing myself with what little online presence Jensen did have for his work and thinking about color schemes and manly fonts. I kept hoping to talk to Jensen again, although I had no idea what I would say, but he kept himself busy out in the bays.

He didn’t even come in for lunch. Susanna went and grabbed us all sandwiches from the deli. She and I ate together, but she swore Jensen’s absence was nothing personal. He generally only came into the office to get coffee.

By midafternoon, I decided to take a cup of the brew out to him. I didn’t necessarily think he was overtly avoiding me, but I didn’t want to take a chance on it growing into that.

Plus, I wanted to show him what I’d done and make sure he felt it was on track.

I didn’t think I’d ever used a coffeemaker so…antiquated. Now I understood why Susanna took breaks to go to Deja Brew in town for the good stuff.At least the machine still seemed to work. The process was the same. Grounds, water, and a cup to collect the liquid. The brew smelled so strong, it could’ve been used to fuel a damn car. I blinked, needing to step back from the steam wafting from it.

When my pot was done, I walked back to the front office to see Susanna.

“Want coffee?” I jerked my thumb in the direction of the break room.

Susanna made a face and mocked a gag. “Ugh. Hell no. I never touch that thing if I can help it.” At my alarmed look, she laughed. “It’s clean. I use it for an emergency dose of caffeine on long days, but that behemoth of a coffeemaker just makes it too damn strong!”

I grinned at that. “How does Jensen like his brew? I thought I’d take him a cup.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Black. Simple, like the man himself.”

Jensen Chambers might be quiet, but he wasn’t simple, that was for sure. The more I learned about him, the more I knew that was true.

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