Page 38 of Cold Foot Komodo

It was finding excuses to have private moments and paint in the same space. It was laughter. It was forgetting all of hertroubles. It was the ease with which the others conversed with her. It was that feeling of teamwork that she loved.

Last night had been so much fun around the firepit, but tonight, working on an old, dilapidated house, she was having just as much fun—which led her to think that the old saying about it not being about where a person was, but who they were with, was true.

Timber really had found it. She’d found the happily ever after, and Sasha was watching her. She was watching how easily her smiles graced her lips, and she got it, because she felt the same thing happening to her.

Life held more beauty without cinder blocks tied to her ankles, as Reed had said.

Chapter Eight

It was cold as balls in here.

Where had that saying even come from? Balls, in her experience, were warm.

Sasha sat up in her new bed and rubbed her eyes, then looked around the chaos in the dim light of dawn that filtered through the broken blinds of the windows.

She was surprised she couldn’t see her breath. The flooring was just the plywood sub-flooring. Her suitcases were in the corner, with a pile of boxed belongings. The covers were crispy and still had the wrinkles from the bag on account of she hadn’t been able to wash them. Even if she trusted the ancient-looking washer in a closet in the hallway, Reed had tested the water to it and the line was clogged.

This was the moment—thewhat-am-I-doing-heremoment.

Her body was sore from the intensity of moving, the house smelled like paint, and she had to make sure she slipped her feet directly into a pair of house shoes in case any of the small floor-nails were still hanging around.

She stood and stretched, twisting back and forth to try and ease the tension in her back. Her alarm rank a second time and she turned it off, then checked the time on her phone screen. Her heart thumped harder as she saw the text.

It was from Reed.

Check your porch. Have a good first day at work. Go get ‘em, tiger.

A smile took her face as she scrambled into a fluffy robe and shuffled double-time through the living room and to the front door.

Outside, on the brand-new welcome mat she’d bought yesterday, there sat an iced coffee. She already knew what the label would say before she even read it. He’d gone and bought her the exact coffee she’d ordered yesterday.

Huh. He was a man who paid attention.

She stepped outside and looked around, hoping he would still be there, but the street was quiet.

The time on his text was half an hour ago. The snow was falling in earnest, but while the other cars parked on the street were covered in snow, she only had a thin layer. Had he…had he scraped the snow and ice off for her? She took a few steps out toward her truck, and yeah. Someone had definitely cleared it off.

“Oh my gosh,” she murmured, stunned at his thoughtfulness. Never in her life had a man done anything like that for her.

He wasn’t supposed to start his shift for another hour, which meant he’d gotten up early to start her day off good.

She took a sip of the coffee and rolled her eyes closed at how perfect it was. It hadn’t frozen yet, and was perfectly chilled.

She made her way back inside and texted him back.

Good morning. You are up early! The coffee is perfect, and if that was you who cleaned off my truck, well…you put a smile on my face first thing in the morning. Thank you so so sooo much. For everything. If you’re driving, don’t message back until you are stopped and safe. I’ve seen too many accidents from that stuff, and you have precious cargo in your truck. I’m talking about your dick. Keep my boner safe.Send. And then she typed out a number eight, several equal signs, and a capital D, just so he could have a laugh at her cartoon wiener before the sun was even up.8====D. Send.

She started getting ready for work as she waited for him to respond. He was probably driving.

By the time her phone dinged with a text message, she was already dressed in her scrubs, had her makeup and hair done, and was heading out the door.

Woman. I tried to be romantic, and you sent me a cartoon dick in your thank-you.

Too much?Send.

Absolutely not. Still laughing. Can I call?

She grinned huge and yanked the door to her truck open. She’d already started it automatically to warm it up, so all she had to do was plug her phone in and the call connected through her speakers.

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