Page 8 of Love, Untangled

His eyes burned but he struggled against closing them. As expected, his mind flashed to the image of his deceased wife, Cora. He missed her. But now, competing with his beautiful wife was the image of his new neighbor. Penelope, she’d said her name was.

“Penelope and Alpaca Man.”

His lips quirked up as he remembered her calling the tall, beige alpaca that name. She had a sense of humor, then. Not that he should care.

But he liked that she did. He’d liked looking at her. He liked her soft gaze, shiny hair, and that smile—her slightly crooked eyeteeth that peeked past those petal-pink lips when she smiled.

That’s why he’d been so grumpy. No, he’d been downright rude to the pretty blonde who’d struggled to move a beast that outweighed her by probably double. Guilt hit him, hard and fast, battering against his already broken heart. He rubbed his palms over the back of his neck, then over his bristly cheeks.

He’d watched her try to coax the beast. He’d seen the slump of her shoulders, the desperation in her eyes as she glanced back into the house. She hadn’t fixed the fence because something was more pressing in her life—something inside. He should have been understanding about that. Instead, he’d growled at her, probably scaring her, based on the emotions reflected in those big, expressive eyes of hers.

Shoving his fingers through his hair, he pulled a little. “Dammit, Carlo. You’re a di Laurentiis, known for your calm and your care for others.” His father and his grandfather had been first responders, just as his brothers were. Giving back to the community was deeply embedded in his psyche.

He’d reacted to her. That wasn’t her fault—his response was on him. She was young, clearly still filled with kindness and sunshine. Did he really want to be the man who dimmed that sheen?

“You used to be a hero,” he muttered to himself. “The guy people looked up to.”

He didn’t want to be this jaded, this much of a disappointment, especially not to his pretty new neighbor. She had soft lips that curved just a little—the impish beginnings of a smile. But it was her eyes, hard to make out in the dim light, that seemed to hold her good humor. Eyes Carlo wanted to see full of life and brimming with joy.

With that realization, he turned from the window and grabbed a large metal flashlight. It was the brand he’d used for years when he had to traverse the forests around Lake Tahoe, his former home. This particular one Cora had given him just weeks before the fire exploded through their community, wiping out everything he loved.

His hand clenched tighter around the metal base as he headed toward the hole in the fence—which was between their properties, so as much his problem as it was Penelope’s—a hammer and nails shoved into various pockets of his cargo pants.

For the next two hours, he hammered in the crosspiece and then the taller fence boards. He’d just finished, moving back through the trees where the alpaca had munched from earlier, when he heard the faint sound of footsteps.

“I know you don’t like being alone, Alpaca Man, but even I have to admit this level of separation anxiety is a bit much.”

Penelope and her pet were heading in this direction.

“I wish I knew what they’d done to you,” she murmured. “Clearly nothing good if you’re this attached to me after only a few days.”

A few days?

Had she rescued the alpaca?

“You know, I really hope that Leon guy isn’t looking for you. But if he is, don’t worry. I promised to take care of you, and I meant it. I don’t break my promises. Ever. But dude, you have got to cut me some slack, yeah? Oh.”

She must have noted the fixed fencing. A soft, tinkling laugh rose on the breeze, caressing his ears and drifting over his skin.

“Look at that! Can you believe he was so nice? I was sure Mr. Grumpy was just that. What about you, Alpaca Man? Did you know there was a good heart under all that frowning and grousing?”

Carlo stifled a groan. Penelope sure had a way of making him feel small without even accusing him. Granted, she didn’t know he was in the shadows of the trees, but still.

“I’m so glad he fixed this for me. I was really worried I’d have to…I don’t know…weave a solution to the fence situation because I don’t know anything about carpentry. Well, outside a loom and a spinner. But those don’t really help keep up a farm, do they? Why Nana thought I could manage this place is beyond me. I’m a city girl, Alpaca Man.”

She must have turned away because her voice grew fainter.

“I mean, sure, I love the space and the idea of finding you some friends. I’d get extra alpaca hair to spin into yarn. That would be amazing. Think of how much we could expand my shop then. And with friends, there’s the chance you’d stay in the paddock. Is that what it’s called? A paddock? See, I need to learn that too.”

Carlo stepped forward and craned his neck. He caught a glimpse of her golden hair that made him think of molten honey. She was shorter than her pet, but that didn’t stop her from leaning toward him much like a mother did over a small child.

Something warm and soft cracked open in his chest.

“But Nana thinking I was capable of handling this? She definitely had more confidence in me than I do.”

A soft sigh was followed by a faint grunt.

“All right. Let’s get back to the house. I need to finish that coat tonight so I can mail it off tomorrow. Otherwise we’re both going to be eating that hay.”

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