Page 13 of His One True Wish

“I get it. You are surprised Gran didn’t keep you in the loop. You are hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Well, I would be. I mean, she made a plan with Mason and me and didn’t include you.” He shrugged. “Maybe you should just ask her?”

I inhaled, my breath catching. Didn’t he know Gran was gone? I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t get the words out. “I don’t need to do that,” I said. “I’ll talk to her later. I just drove here tonight to store some of my mom’s things in the barn. It wasn’t supposed to snow.”

“And I wasn’t supposed to be here?”

“Right,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Okay,” he said, nodding as if thinking through a plan. “You can store stuff in the barn. It’s half-empty.”

“Half-empty?” I said. “It should be full-empty.”

“When I signed the lease, your grandmother and I agreed that I could make improvements here — ” he said.

“Wait. What?” I shook my head. Once again, confusion overtook me.

“It’s a little bit like being a caretaker,” he said. “I pay rent, but it’s lower because I take care of stuff.”

“I know what a caretaker does,” I fired back, my voice punchier than it needed to be. “I told her to hire someone, but she never did. Mason checks on the place from time to time.”

“Mason’s a baker,” the man said, moving to the stove. “Besides, why would he need to check on the place when I live here?”

Keeping one hand over his privates, with the other he opened a cupboard, took out two mugs, and filled each of them with hot water from the kettle. “Chamomile?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, feeling bewildered again. Every time I got my footing, he said something else to send me spinning. He opened another cupboard, took two tea bags out of a fancy tin, and plunked one into each cup.

Stunned, I thought about the well-groomed drive, the repaired fence posts, the sparkling-clean kitchen. Someone took good care of the property, that much was true. I assumed it was Mason, but what if it was naked Mr. Neat Freak? Why would Gran hire him before she died and never tell me or Mom?

“You want milk?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” I said, swallowing.

“All right,” he said, glancing down at his own bare ass and giving me a wink.

I looked away, cheeks burning. Damn. He had caught me.

He turned and handed me a cup of tea.

“You live here year-round then?” I asked, thinking back to the times I’d thought about coming to visit and never pulling the trigger.

“I’m in and out during the summertime. My business takes me out of Smoke River,” he said. “Winter, I’m here full-time. Your gran insisted on that. She said she wanted someone on-site to manage thepipes and clear snow off the roof. She was also super worried about the river swamping the lower field — ” He glanced over his shoulder. “ — though I’ve never seen it come close, so all good there.”

As he spoke, the fire inside me went out, along with all doubt about his story. The naked guy wasn’t lying. Gran always talked about the risk of the river swamping the lower field. The way he described his winter tasks sounded like Gran herself standing in the kitchen, reminding me to do my chores. He spoke just like her. Plus, he navigated this kitchen as if he lived here. What more did I need?

Of course, I’d ask to see the lease, but I had no doubt the man holding a towel over his privates met my Gran and lived here.

He walked toward me, one hand on his crotch, the other extended.

“I’m Axl Grey,” he said, “and I can show you the lease.”

“I’m Billie Prescott,” I said. Ignoring his extended hand, I kept my eyes on his face and not the rest of him. “The only thing I want you to show me right now is you, in pants.”

He dropped his hand and smiled. His deep-green eyes crinkled, and there was a pulse of sweetness in his expression that made my stomach go all swirly.

“Good call. And sorry I threatened you with a poker — and all my nakedness,” he gestured down his torso, and despite my effort to focus on his face, I stole a glance at his abs and more.

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