Page 129 of Renard's Deliverance

“I get you.”

He studied her for a long moment. “It’s good that you get me. Now, I’ve got to go sand the floors in the spare room before I head into work, and I need to know that you’re good.”

She softened. “I’m good. I’m sorry about before.”

“You need something from me, then tell me.”

“Yeah, I’m not really good at asking for help.”

He snorted. “I know that, Gem. Get better.”

Get better?

Really? That was his advice?

“I want to help with the sanding,” she said as he got up and got dressed.

“Nope.”

“Why not? Shouldn’t I learn how to do it in case I want to do the rest of the floors?” It made total sense to her.

“Nope.”

“Okay.” She sat up and glared at him as he got dressed. Damn, her ass hurt. But she pushed that aside. “You have to say more than ‘nope’.”

“I do?”

“Yes. Why can’t I help sand my own floors?”

“Because it’s a man’s job.”

“Renard.”

“Opal.”

They glared at each other.

“You do realize this is the twenty-first century, right?” she asked. “There are no longer men-only jobs.”

“Baby, this is Haven.”

“Yes, so?”

“So in this town, there are very much men-only jobs. And it isn’t about women not being capable. It’s about men wanting to take care of their women by doing shit that they don’t have to. Like taking out the trash. Or shoveling the snow from the driveway. This is a job for a man, you have a man that wants to do it for you, so you say thank you and you get him a soda. Because sanding is thirsty work and your man doesn’t drink alcohol. Which is a bastard, because after sanding all you really want is a beer.”

It all sounded ridiculous.

Yet at the same time, it made sense. And she’d get him the soda, because she understood the craving for a drink after doing a messy job.

“I’ll have your soda waiting.”

“Thank you.”

“But I do have one question.”

“What?” he snapped.

“What’s your stand on staining? Man job or woman?”

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