Page 13 of Fixing to Be Mine

She follows, her boots scuffing softly over the worn wood. I walk a few steps ahead, but I can feel her behind me, probably eye-fucking me again. The thought makes me more aware of my breathing or the way I carry myself.

The house is halfway decent, depending on the room. Now that she’s here, I wish I’d cleaned up more or finished painting the trim. Hell, I wish I had a finished house that would impress her. I don’t know what to do with that thought. I stop at the last door on the right and push it open. The hinges groan in protest.

“This is the only fully finished area in the house other than the kitchen. Sheets are clean, and the bathroom is right across the hall.”

She steps inside, her eyes scanning the simple space. There are no frills. Just a solid bed, a dresser, a full-length mirror, and a window that looks out over the barn with a sheer curtain because I like to wake up to the sunrise. I cleared my tools and work gear out earlier this week, and it still smells like fresh paint.

I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, as I watch her. “If you need more towels, there are extras in the linen closet.Water’s hot, but you’ve gotta let it run for a minute, or it will burn the fuck outta you. And this is country livin’, so sometimes, you’ve gotta hold the toilet handle down a little longer than you’d think.”

I notice a flicker of something behind her eyes, like a smile she’s not quite ready to share. Sunny steps further inside and sets her hand lightly on the footboard, like she’s bracing herself more than leaning. Her hand trails along the edge of the wood like she’s memorizing it. Her eyes skim across the dresser, the small window, the lamp on the nightstand.

She turns to face me. “Where will you sleep?” The question isn’t sharp or demanding.

“The couch. I’ve slept there plenty of times before.”

Her expression is unreadable, but her shoulders aren’t as stiff as they were when she walked in.

“That’s not fair,” she says after a second. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Absolutely not.” I let out a soft breath, more amused than anything. “Life isn’t fair. Besides, the couch is comfortable.”

She raises an eyebrow, like she’s not sure if I’m lying.

“I’m not just sayin’ that. It’s better than most of the places I crashed in my early twenties,” I add, shrugging.

Her brow lifts. “What? Like last year?”

A low rumble releases from me—unexpected and rough, like I forgot I had laughter left. “I’m in my late twenties, thank you very fuckin’ much.”

She chuckles.

I glance toward the front of the house, then back at her. “You got bags in your car? I can grab ’em for you.”

Her posture straightens a little too fast. It’s not panic, but it’s a reaction that makes a man instinctively take a step back. Her fingers twitch. Her throat works around a breath she doesn’t take.

“I’ve got it,” she says quickly. “I can get them. You’ve already done enough.”

It comes out too practiced, like she’s used to fixing discomfort before it shows. She acts like accepting help feels more dangerous than doing it alone.

“You have a body stuffed in your trunk or something?”

She playfully rolls her eyes. “Not that I know of.”

“Listen, I’m a fixer, babe. Doin’ things for others and listening are my love language, so if you’re staying for a while, which you are, you’re gonna have to start gettin’ used to that.”

“Thank you. However, I find it very hard to accept anything from people without an exchange. It’s not a behavior I’m accustomed to. Truthfully, my trunk is a mess, and I’d prefer to grab my shit myself.”

“Okay, I can respect an independent woman,” I tell her.

“Thank you.”

For some reason, I want to reach for her, but I don’t. It’s too soon for that, so I nod instead. “I’ll keep the porch light on for ya. Take your time. Door stays unlocked.”

“Unlocked?” she questions, almost alarmed. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“In the middle of nowhere?” I look at her like she’s grown a third head. “Trust me, sweetheart. No one in their right mind would turn down this road in the middle of the night. Except you.”

“You’re damn right about that.” She exhales, and her shoulders ease further.

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