Page 4 of Relief Pitcher

I walked to the kitchen to start the coffee. I heard him follow within minutes while talking to someone on the other end of the phone. I busied myself and tried not to eavesdrop, which was difficult to avoid in the small space.

“Hoursplural? Does that mean like two or five?” He dropped his head in his hand and his long fingers slid through his short hair, clutching the strands.

I itched to rub his back.I must be lonelier than I realized. Danita had warned me that staying holed up in the house would make me a lonely hermit. I hadn’t believed her until that moment.

“No, I totally understand. I know. Yup, bad storm. Sure, that’s great. Thank you. Yes, at this number. Okay, bye.”

I walked over and handed him a mug. “Are they backed up?”

Tyler wrapped his long fingers around the ceramic mug. “They said the tow trucks in the area have lots of tows lined up already and that with how remote this is, it’s gonna take a while.”

“You’re welcome to stay until they can get you this evening. At least I’ve got cell service here so they can call you.” I ignored the flutter in my belly at the prospect of this charming guy sticking around for a while. There was something about his smile that got under my skin. Sort of knowing, but knowing what, I wasn’t sure.

“Thank you so much. This is way better than freezing my balls off in my car. They’re very important to me.”

I choked as my sip of coffee burned the back of my throat. “Do you want to check out your car? I’ve got a pop-up canopy I could place over your hood.”

“I don’t know shit about cars. Are you a car guy? My friend group needs one, it turns out.”

I shook my head. “I can check my oil and change a tire, but not much beyond that, I’m afraid.”

Tyler sighed as he studied the painted crow on his ceramic mug. “I would probably make it worse if I tried anything, anyway. I pay for the big AAA package so they could tow my ass to Alaska if need be. I’ll wait it out.”

“Do you want some pants to wear? You must be uncomfortable as hell in wet jeans.”

“You don’t mind? That would be amazing.”

“No problem. I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

He followed me.

“You know, I told you my name, but you haven’t told me yours…yet you’re letting me in your pants. That’s kind of sketchy.”

Tyler startled another laugh out of me. “Cooper Martin.”

Tyler held out his hand, and I shook it. Small jolts raced from where our palms and fingers connected to all the way up my arm. Probably a static electricity thing from the storm.

I showed him to the bathroom and then brought him a pair of sweatpants. I busied myself with closing my bedroom door since it was a mess and trying not to think about a half-naked man being on the other side of the bathroom door. After he changed, I took his jeans to the mudroom to throw in the dryer.

“Is that your living room?”

Before I could answer, he was already walking in there. I grabbed my coffee and followed. He looked around and stopped at one of my first major pieces hanging on the wall. A dozen or so carved trees mounted to a frame to form a three-dimensional forest.

“You really have great taste. I would love something like this for the brewery.”

“You’re sticking to the brewery cover story, huh?” I wasn’t sure where my playfulness came from. It wasn’t like I’d been a complete curmudgeon, but I’d been…muted for a while.

“Peculiar enough to make you believe it.” Tyler winked and then dropped onto the couch. He settled back against the pillows in one corner and made himself at home. “This is comfy.” He tested the couch by bouncing a little, like a kid jumping on a mattress.

I chuckled again. The guy was something else. When he turned his attention to the TV, his mouth dropped open. It took me a moment to realize I’d paused it on a reenactment of a crime scene with fake blood everywhere. At least it was a show that didn’t use actual crime scene photos. That was a step too far, even for me.

“Are you watching a murder show?”

“A true-crime documentary, yes.”

His lips curled into a teasing smirk. “Who’s the serial killer now?”

“Do you think a serial killer would watch true crime?”

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