Page 13 of Reckless and Rooted
I nod along, listening to him explain all the work that he is doing. As he does, a few more guys show up to help. Some I know, some I don’t.
We get to work demolishing what we need to, to get fixing what’s broken. We tear out all the kitchen cabinets and find a hint of hardwood floor underneath, making Graham excited.
“If we can salvage the hardwood floors that would be awesome.”
“Is this house for you or something? I thought you guys had a little homestead.”
“No, it’s not for me.” Graham looks at me then, wiping the sweat off of his brow. “We love our place. This is for…” He pauses, looking around the room. “Uh, just a client.”
I shrug, nodding my head. “Brave client.”
“Definitely. But we need to keep moving on this. She was hoping it’d be done in a month.”
“A month? For all that work?” I ask, my tone rising as I look around. I mean, the bones of the house are good, but damn, it is going to take replacing almost everything to make it livable.
“It can be done.” Graham nods at me. “Your help will make it faster.”
“I can help out a few days a week,” I say, reaching out to pull an already falling piece of wallpaper down. “I need to keep up my work on the ranch too. Stetson wants some help with some two-year-olds.” My little brother is the one who starts training on the baby horses. Then, when they are ready, they move on to Logan, and depending on what they are going to be used for, CT will take over. They have a good thing going here.
“Whatever I can get, man. I’ll pay. I’ll be here almost nonstop until it’s done, so just drop by whenever.”
“Yeah, man, sounds good.” I slap him on the shoulder and make my way out of the house. As I do, I see a white SUV pull up along the road, right in front of the house, and pause, wondering which guy had that nice of a car.
When a blonde head that haunts my dreams rises above the car door, I stop and hold in a sigh.
I haven’t seen Felicity in nearly a week, and for the most part, I was doing a good job at avoiding any kind of place she may be. So what the fuck is she doing here?
She sees me, and her eyes get wider. She ducks back down behind the car, and I let out a deep sigh, wondering when it is going to feel natural to see her around again.
Don’t get used to it, my brain says.She doesn’t belong here.
Unfortunately, I can’t exactly hide from her, considering my truck is parked right in front of her car. And hell, who are we kidding? I don’t want to hide from her, pretend I didn’t see her, and walk away.
I move between our two cars, intentionally set on talking to her, and I actually have to bite back a grin at the sight of her hiding behind her car door.
“Stalking doesn’t suit you,” I say as nonchalantly as possible, leaning against the hood of her car. If I know her at all anymore, I know she’ll?—
“Stalking?” Standing abruptly from behind her door, she stomps around it. Her long hair blows in the light wind that’s coming down the mountain. “I am not stalking. If anyone is stalking, it’s you.”
“I was here first, so…” I shrug, holding back the smile that wants to cross my face. Dammit. I don’t want to flirt with her, but it’s so fucking easy. I move my gaze off of her face and down to my dusty boots and jeans.
“Well, that’s nice for you.” She comes to stand in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s got a light jacket over an old T-shirt. I swallow hard when I realize it is my old high school football one.
Felicity follows my gaze, and for a moment, she freezes. Her chest stops moving up and down, and her mouth stops. Her eyes lift back to mine, and I just give her a small, sad smile.
“I—” Her pause fills the air between us. I’m glad she doesn’t know what to say because I’m fucking clueless how to act or be around her anymore.
It hurts that that’s the truth.
“I’m here to help Graham on this house.” I break the tension, nodding back to the house behind me.
“Oh.” Her voice is soft, and she turns her head from me, but if I didn’t know any better, I would have almost sworn there were tears in her eyes. Her hand comes up to touch her lips, and she nods, stepping away from me.
“Well, that’s nice.” She steps further away and back toward the back door of her car.
I lift a brow at the dismissal and scoff. “That’s it? No explanation for what you’re doing here?”
Felicity looks to me, like she knows I’m asking about more than just her being at this house. Was I? I don’t know. I’d love to know why, after so many years, she finally came back home, why she was here instead of out on the road, touring the world. She was successful, famous, rich, and talented.
