Page 14 of Protected By the Surly Carpenter

Her mouth falls open. “Wha-at?”

“That’s why I left your room last night,” I grin.

“I thought you were just giving me a moment of privacy to check my underwear or whatever.” She laughs. “How much do I owe you?”

I wave her off. “You don’t. You helped me the other night with that delivery, so consider it payment for that.”

“Clark, I really appreciate it, but?—”

I cut her off with a finger across her lips. “Eat your breakfast while it’s hot. After that, you can yell at me all you like.”

A brief flinch flickers in her eyes.Oh shit.Just the thought of yelling, even said in jest, disturbs her. That tells me a whole lot more about her revolting father.

“Do you work today?” she asks, clearly wanting to change the subject.

“Not shop work, but I do have to make a run to West Stoneburg. Wanna come with?”

“Another delivery so soon? You’re a busy guy.”

I love the teasing look in her eyes. “Yes.”

After we finish breakfast Elena insists on helping with cleanup, then we get properly dressed and go out back to the workshop.

She walks slowly along the row of finished pieces. “This stuff is amazing. I mean, I assumed you were good at your job. But this is just…immaculate.”

I suddenly feel an inch taller. “Thank you.”

Grabbing some shipping blankets from their wall hooks, I head for a tall cabinet with intricate diamond-shaped inlays done in various shades of wood. “This is the one. I’ll do the lifting, if you can hold the door, please.”

“You made that?” She leans in, fingertips hovering across the inlays without quite touching them. “How did you… I mean, you made this with your bare hands?”

“Yeah. Well, and a bunch of specialized power tools.” I snort, glaring at the end of my largest workbench. “Except for that useless excuse for a fretsaw.”

Elena laughs. “It doesn’t work?”

“It was a gift from my father last year. It’s supposed to snap together a certain way, but it doesn’t. And of course, the instruction manual is in Swedish. I’ll try again in a few weeks when I’m less annoyed at it.”

She laughs and shakes her head. While I wrap the cabinet carefully in shipping blankets and tilt it onto the dolly, Elena flips through the Swedish instruction manual. “It would help if there were diagrams.”

“The company went out of business years ago, so I can’t look it up online. Tried an online translator, but those things don’t work well with technical stuff. I think Dad found it for me ata yard sale or something. It’s fine – not every tool is going to work.”

She holds the door open for me and I roll the cabinet into the truck. Once it’s secured with straps and a few sandbags, I turn to see Elena coming out of the workshop. “I’ll get the lights, if we’re done.”

“Yep. Thanks.”

We start to drive, once again chatting about everything under the sun. She fiddles with her phone for a few minutes before putting it away.

I idly wonder who she was talking to, then decide it’s none of my business. It occurs to me, though, that I should maybe get her a new phone, in case her father somehow has her number and could use it to track her.

Is that being too paranoid? Maybe. Probably not. I have no idea what kind of man he is but can assume several things from her reactions whenever he’s mentioned, and I don’t like any of them.

He used to yell at her, which means any raised male voice is going to make her jumpy for the rest of her life. He creeps her out. Makes her skin crawl. Since he called in others to help look for her, that means he’s determined, maybe not the kind of person to give up easily.

He doesn’t know that Elena is now under my protection, though. And I’m not letting my sweet, sexy girl out of my sight.

8

ELENA

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