Page 12 of Awakening the Wild
Because you're mine. Because from the moment I pulled you out of that storm, you became mine to protect. Because I'd rather spend eight months teaching you carpentry than lose you to whatever city you run to next.
"Because it's what neighbors do," I said. "And because you deserve a real choice about where you live."
The relief that flickered across her features told me everything I needed to know. She wanted to stay. Wanted to build something here. She just needed someone to show her how.
"You'd really teach me?"
"Everything you need to know." I looked back at the cottage, already planning the renovation in my head. "We'll start with the roof, work our way down. By spring, you'll have a home worth living in."
A home twenty minutes from mine. Close enough that I could check on her every day, far enough that she'd have her independence. The perfect compromise. But first, we’d have to work on a budget. And for that, she would need to know how much the repairs to the Mercedes was going to be. Jerry should have had time to inspect it by now. I texted him and waited for his reply as we investigated more of what needed to be done to the cottage.
He texted back about a half hour later. “Shit.”
“What?”
"Your car is totaled," I said reluctantly.
She gave a half laugh that sounded dangerously close to tears. “When it rains, it pours.” She sniffled.
"He thinks he can get you six thousand for parts and scrap if you want to go that route."
Her eyes widened. "That takes a bit of the sting out of things.”
"German luxury cars hold their value, even broken ones. Should be enough to get you started on the cottage repairs. Or maybe a used car.”
She stared at the house. “Should I stay or should I go?”
Stay.
As if she heard me, she turned to face me. “If Jerry can get me the six thousand dollars, would you help me buy supplies to fix up this place?”
“You got it,” I said, unable to stop the grin on my face.
THE FIRST WEEK LIVINGtogether had been an education in torture. We made dinner together every night and sat for hours after finishing it talking about our lives. I told her more about Maplewood Group Home and my foster brothers. She told me about how she never found a place where she felt like she belonged. I hoped to give her that.
She'd thrown herself into learning with enthusiasm and good humor. I taught her basic things her father should have shown her how to do, like hammer a nail into a board and measure and saw a plank of wood. She took notes like she was studying for finals, asked intelligent questions, practiced until she got things right. I loved watching her and seeing her joy at becoming more independent. I loved seeing her face light up when she successfully made dinner without burning it.
But it was the domestic moments that nearly broke my control, like when I was watching her curl up in my reading chair by the fire, wearing one of my flannel shirts over her own clothes because it kept her warmer. During the day, Tonya moved around my house in soft sweaters that hugged her curves and jeans that showed off her perfect ass. It made me to strip them off her with my teeth.
The breaking point came when she insisted on helping with firewood.
I was splitting logs behind the house when I heard the sharp crack of wood going wrong. I looked up to find her standing next to my chopping block, staring at the axe buried so deep in the oak stump she couldn’t hope to remove it by herself. “Shit!” she said.
I dropped my maul and rushed to her side. "Are you hurt?"
"No, just embarrassed." She gestured helplessly at the buried axe. "I suck at this."
Relief flooded through me, followed immediately by something darker. She could have taken that blade to her leg. The thought of her in pain made something primitive and possessive roar to life in me.
"What were you trying to do?" I worked the axe free with considerable effort.
"Help. You've been working so hard to get ready for maple season, and I thought..." She trailed off, looking frustrated with herself. "I thought I could handle the smaller pieces. I mean you make it look so easy."
"It can be easy once someone shows you how to do it right." I made a decision that was probably going to test every ounce of self-control I had. "Come here."
I selected one of the smaller logs and set it on the block. "First, never swing when you're standing on uneven ground."
"Check."
