Page 14 of Raised On It

In ten minutes flat, we’re pulling up to the curb outside her place.

I waste no time, taking the front porch steps three at a time. I knock on the door and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

My excitement begins to fade when I realize she may not be home. I wonder if she’s at Brass Tacks? Would I look like a stalker if I went there to find her?

I’m about to turn away when the click of the deadbolt sends my heart racing, and when the door swings open, you could knock me over with a goddamn feather. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a white T-shirt that says, “Romance Writers Do It Better” on top of a pair of loose boxer shorts.

Well, fuck me running. There isn’t a breath left in my lungs.

In the two seconds I was able to take a quick inventory of her, I’m already hotter than the steaming cup of coffee she’s holding in her hands.

Where did this woman come from?

“First, the coffee shop and now, you’re here at my front door. Will mine be your first restraining order, or is there a list as long as my arm?”

“Darlin’, you may look sweet enough to put in my Rice Krispies, but I’m not actually here for you.”

I’m such a liar.

“You really are something, aren’t you?” she says, not flinching at my remarks.

She’s a tough cookie, and I love the game we’re playing. Eventually, our little game will soften her up, and I plan on finally taking a bite.

“Mason, you have no idea.”

Her eye roll has my dick twitching. This is by far the best morning I’ve had in recent memory.

“So why are you here exactly?”

“You’re looking at your local handyman. Katie texted me and asked me to fix the broken boards on her back steps. I can show you the texts if you need proof?”

Leaning against the doorframe, she doesn’t reply, but she does set her unrelenting gaze on me. She’s contemplating whether to believe me. The whole scenario does seem a bit suspicious, but at least I have the backup to prove I was actually summoned here. I would be more than happy to sit here and stare at her all day, but as much as it pains me to admit, she’s kicking my ass at the moment with her stare down. The fact that she isn’t budging is a little unnerving.

“Well, I’m just gonna go around back and get to work. Oh, and I’m gonna have my pup with me, so if you see a German shepherd running around the backyard, he’s with me.”

Not able to stand the blank expression and lack of words coming from her, I leave her on the porch and make my way back to the truck to get my toolbox from the back and my boy out of the cab. When I turn around, she’s gone, and I’m disappointed.

It’s eleven thirty,and the board is fixed. As are many other boards that looked like they could possibly become loose in the next five years. I’ve mowed the front and backyard, and I’ve thrown the ball for Lou.

Now, even I have to admit I’m starting to look a little desperate or, at the very least, obvious as I dejectedly gather my tools. I’m just about to call Lou over so we can head out when the unmistakable squeak of a screen door opening stops me in my tracks.

“I’d say you did more than fix a loose board.”

Rendered speechless, all I can do is shrug at the beauty standing in front of me, her long floral dress blowing in the breeze.

“Thanks for mowing. I appreciate it.”

“I figured I was here so…”

She smiles. I mean, she really smiles. And everything is off balance. I feel like an insecure middle schooler about to have his first kiss.

Saving the day Sweet Lou bounds through the yard and rushes the porch and Mason. Panic ensues, and I reach out, trying to stop him before he jumps all over her.

“Whoa, buddy! No!”