Page 4 of All of Me

He glanced over. “You selling?”

I shook my head and walked up to the door. “Long story, but my Aunt Ellie’s son thinks he should have been left it in the will and he’s trying to take me to court.”

Shae followed me inside and gazed around. I shrugged, knowing what he was seeing. The space was enormous, starting with a small mudroom and a laundry area to the left, a half-bath, then the rest of the huge area was open plan. The only corridor led to the four bedrooms and three bathrooms. There was a large kitchen to the left that didn’t look like it’d been updated since the fifties, complete with a one-hundred-year-old farmhouse table that could seat twenty with both leaves in. The roof was sound, though. And I’d been slowly going through the house, redoing the secondary wiring myself after getting someone to redo the panel and the primary. Jay’s brother was a plumber and had already fixed the AC and the heating, but the whole house needed attention. In the thirty plus years since I’d left school and joined the army at eighteen, I’d barely spent any money, so even though the kitchen and bathrooms were going to cost me the price of a small house, I could afford to get it done properly.

Then I’d gotten the letter from the lawyer, and since I knew full well that as soon as Ryan got his hands on it—if he did—the whole lot would be sold to a developer for fancy houses, I delayed spending the cash, then I took the long job. I also wasn’t sure I was ready for a legal battle. Luckily, lawyers took their sweet time, so apart from a few letters we were nowhere near going to court, or me having to make a decision.

“It’s amazing,” Shae breathed out in obvious awe, and it made me smile. It needed a family though, and if Ryan had been a halfway decent human being, I’d have handed it over.

Although if he had been, Ellie would have left him the property in the first place. She once told me Ryan had gotten nearly fifty thousand dollars from his godmother so I reckoned he didn’t have much to complain about.

“This way,” I said and lugged his bag down the hallway, stopping at the second door and opening it. I winced at what had to be one of the barest rooms I’d seen, but the electricity had been completed both in here and in mine opposite. The end room was still, as far as I was concerned, Ellie’s room, and the fourth was full of old medical junk and had no bathroom. “There’s a bathroom here,” I said, opening the door, which was one of the smallest three en suites, but also had a decent shower. “No closet but—” I waved in the direction of the old wardrobe and matching dresser. “Towels in the cupboard in the bathroom. Help yourself to a shower.” The bathroom had originally been the closet, and one summer when I was fifteen, I’d helped Uncle Jim remodel it.

“Sheets in the bottom drawer,” I said, tempted to do it myself, but Shae seemed to be walking steady and apart from the split lip and bruising, seemed alert. “Hungry?”

He glanced at me and paused. “We didn’t bring the pizza.”

“It’s okay. I was expecting at least two weeks off after such a big job, so Moira next door filled my fridge like she always does when I let her know I’m back.”

“The horse lady?” Shae smiled.

“Yep, she’s good people.” I decided to give Shae some space and went back to the kitchen, texting Rawlings an update. He sent me a one-word reply,Good.

I opened the fridge and grinned. Moira hadn’t just gone to the store for me, she’d cooked as well. I took out the nearest dish labeled with instructions to put it in the oven for forty minutes or I could just zap it. Moira wasn’t a fan of microwaves and Ellie never had one, so I’d gotten a small countertop one. The biscuits were already on a tray and would definitely need to go in the oven, but they only took fifteen minutes.

Shae appeared when the biscuits were nearly ready. I looked up as he shuffled in, not looking too confident and probablywondering if he’d made a mistake coming here. I nodded to the chair and the giant first-aid box open on the table. Shae frowned. “It’s fine.”

“I know this has all been shit,” I said gently. “But I’m pretty sure the docs told you to be careful with any sort of infection.”

Shae’s lips flattened, but he pulled out one of the chairs so he could sit. “Did you know the whole thing with enhanced is they supposedly don’t get sick?” He looked down but I definitely heard the sarcastic mutter, “Guess I must be lucky.”

I’d gotten out the antibiotic cream for his lip, but even I could see the swelling was going down. His lip wasn’t split anymore, either. “It’s healing quickly, but I just want to cover all the bases.” And before I even thought about it, I wiped my hands with some of the sterile wipes, then lifting Shae’s chin with one hand, dabbed some cream on his lip with the other.

I froze the second my finger touched his soft lip and felt the shiver run through him.

What the fuck was I doing? Touching him? I should be crowned the king of mixed messages. I finished quickly, then made a show of washing my hands, by which time the biscuits were ready, and the microwave dinged. I pointed to the two glasses of iced water I’d poured. “I have juice as well, if you prefer.” I had some beer, but I wasn’t sure that was a good idea for either of us. And technically he was underage. Not that I cared. I’d fought with enough people who’d put their lives on the line then went home and couldn’t buy a goddam beer.

“This is fine,” Shae murmured, so I got the dish out and plated the chicken casserole, putting the biscuits on a separate plate, then helped myself to two of them so Shae got the idea. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Shae took a small forkful and tasted it experimentally. His eyes widened and the second forkful was much bigger. He demolished the bowl and three biscuits. I wasn’t going to say anything to put him off his food,but when he’d finished, he met my gaze and answered my earlier question. “It was Jez from work. He got fired because of me.”

I studied Shae’s face. “Why?”

“Because Dave took one look at my scar and decided I could do the work of three people. Jez must have found out where I live. It was just the one punch. I thought it was the pizza, so I opened the door."

“I thought you were sharing?”

Not that I expected an answer, but getting hit was another reason for him not to live there. “Not many that would risk swinging a punch with your scar.”

Shae just shrugged. “I haven’t shown any abilities. Guess he thinks I’m soft.” He hesitated. “I have to work tomorrow.”

I considered my response. It was like trying to avoid A.P. land-mines. “I have an alternative, but it doesn’t pay much.”

Shae glanced at me warily.

“I need two pairs of hands to do some work around here.” He could paint. Nothing strenuous. “Won’t be much pay, as it includes food and board.” I knew if he thought I was doing him a favor, he’d tell me where to shove the job. I could get Rawlings to stretch my time off to a month easily, six weeks if he didn’t need me. It would get Shae through another doctor’s appointment, make sure he was eating well, and above all, it would keep him safe.

I just had to keep my damn hands to myself.

Shae picked up his glass of water and I knew he was giving himself time to think. “Why would you do work on the place if there’s a chance you could lose it?”

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