by ML Nystrom
I didn’t know how long I stayed there, leaning against the counter and replaying the experience over and over in my mind. My body still tingled and throbbed from it. It had been a long time since I felt this good or came that hard. I couldn’t recall anything like it from Karl.
My meandering thoughts were interrupted by three women entering the room, and their drunken giggles spurred me into moving. I reached down to wash my hands and prayed my hair and face appeared normal enough or that they were too drunk to notice any dishevelment. The women ignored me as I left the safety of the bathroom. That turned out to be more difficult than I hoped. I stood in the narrow hallway, my gut clenching and my legs stiff. What if he’d sat back at the bar, drinking a fresh beer and boasting to the bartender he just did a woman in the back of the bar? I had to face the music sometime.
Deep breaths, Bertie. You can handle it.
I didn’t see him anywhere and breathed a sigh of relief. Relief? Or disappointment? I’d already paid for the single beer I didn’t finish, so it was okay for me to walk across the bar and straight out the door. I imagined a glowing neon sign over my head that flashed Just Had Sex in bright red. Nobody said anything to me or looked in my direction. In a way, I was a little let down. I’d had the most mind-blowing sexual experience of my life, and no one noticed any changes.
Be happy about that, Bertie.
I shivered in the cold as I set the GPS to take me back home. Heat poured from the vents as I cranked it up as high as it would go. On the drive, I tried to blank my mind. Not analyze, justify, or argue with myself over my actions.
Put it behind you. It’s over. Asheville is a big enough city, the chances of you running into him again are slim to nothing. You had sex. Good sex. You can remember this as both a life lesson and a fond memory. Glad he had a condom. Probably need to get tested since Karl didn’t use one with Damaris.
Once I got home, I turned into an automaton. My clothes got tossed into the laundry hamper. I put on a plain nightgown and crawled into bed.
I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.
Two tears tracked over my face before I fell asleep.
Five
The farmhouse came into Garrett’s view at the end of a short gravel driveway. Over a week had passed since New Year’s Eve and he’d spend his time relaxing with his family and enjoying Beverly’s fussing over him. It was time to get back to work and start tackling the pile of shit that had been dumped on him.
According to what Owen said about the client, the farm had long since been sold off, but a few acres of land still surrounded the structure. The goal was to do a total renovation and turn the place into a bed and breakfast kind of inn. The first impression didn’t hold a lot of promise. The grayish evening light made the area look dull and lifeless. A strand of Christmas lights leftover from the holidays attempted to bring a little color to the dismal appearance.
“Gonna take a lot of work,” Owen commented as his truck pulled up to the house.
Garrett’s face reflected his feelings about the place. “Someone paid money for this?”
Owen exited the vehicle and answered with his typical short sentences. “Looks bad. Bones good. Furniture left. Old antiques. Nice stuff.”
Garrett gave him a dubious glance. Old didn’t always mean nice, but he needed the money from this job. Desperately. His brothers knew about the breakup but not how his phone got broken beyond repair. They didn’t ask for explanations either. He only had to mention once that he was almost flat broke and couldn’t afford a new one yet. His oldest niece, Abby, had gotten a new phone for Christmas and generously let him have her old one. Owen offered him this job to make some money. Joy didn’t get mentioned at all.
Owen pulled out his phone and moved his thick thumbs rapidly over the screen. “Owner lives behind. Cottage. Not great, but livable. Meet us soon.” He looked at his twin with his own green eyes, the only feature that they truly shared. “Be nice.”
Garrett smiled and clapped his brother on his massive shoulder. “I’m always nice. Let’s go meet this lady and give her place its last rites.”
Owen grunted a response and climbed the few steps to the wraparound front porch.
Garrett guessed the house had been built in stages. It looked like three houses stuck together. A two-story house on one side, a three-story on the other, and a short single story in the middle. It had a mishmash of styles from different eras. Garrett could only imagine what the interior looked like.
His footsteps made hollow thuds on the wood slats of the porch. Some of them showed their age with warping. The screen door was also wood and hung open slightly from lost spring tension. Owen pulled it open, and it slapped against the side of the house.
Make that no spring tension. Everywhere Garrett laid eyes, he saw nothing but work, work, and more work. Months of it.
“Hi, Owen. Glad you could make it.”
Garrett heard her voice. The atmosphere grew thick. Little hot coals erupted down his spine. His face reddened, and sweat broke out under his plaid work shirt. He turned and met the wide chocolaty eyes of the woman who had haunted his thoughts for days. He’d gone back to Gallaghers’ several times with the hopes of seeing her again to make sure she was okay. He even asked Gordon about her, but the bartender had no clue who she was or where she came from. What were the chances she would turn out to be the new client?
“My brother, Garrett.”
Her gasp of recognition reminded him of the noise she’d made when he slid his dick inside her. That part of his anatomy twitched with the memory and elongated behind the zipper of his jeans.
“This is Bernadette.”
Bernadette. Now he had a name to go with that face. Shit, how are you supposed to handle meeting the nameless woman you fucked in a bar during a drunk party? Polite greeting? Thanks for the memories? Wanna do it again? He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Her hand rose to take his. “Nice to meet you too. Garrett.”
The breathy tone of her voice brought back another memory. “Yes, that’s it. Make me come.”
Garrett heard the growl in his throat and saw her jump at the sound. The pulse in her neck moved rapidly, and he wanted to put his tongue to it.
Owen was oblivious to the thread of tension between them. His spine suddenly snapped up straight, and a look of sheer panic crossed his normally stoic face as he relayed the text he’d just received.
“M-M-Melanie’s in labor. I g-g-gotta go. You finish the ass-ss-sessment and Connor kill wum. Will come.”
For Owen’s speech impediment to show up so much meant he was nervous as hell. Garrett nodded. “You go take care of your woman and I’ll handle everything here. Meet you at the hospital later, okay?” Owen didn’t reply. He strode out the door with ringing steps, leaving the two of them alone.
“Bernadette,” Garrett repeated.
“Bertie to my friends.”
“Are we friends?”
She swallowed, and Garrett’s dick swelled in response. “I’m not sure what we are exactly.”
He still held her hand. I wonder what she’d do if I kissed her right now? He shook his head to clear it of the thought and let her go, taking a step back. “I don’t know either. I’ve never been in this position.”
Bertie cleared her throat, crossed her arms over her chest, and dropped her eyes to the floor. Garrett recognized it as a defensive move. She had detached and was getting clear. “Have any ideas on what to do?”
Kiss like crazy. Try a bed instead of a wall. Go for an all-day slow burn, starting with my mouth between your legs. Garrett listed a lot of ideas in his head, but none of them were ones he could voice out loud. “Are you married?”
She bristled, and he pressed on. “I’m not trying to insult you, but we didn’t even ask for names. It’s a valid question. Your answer will tell us what to do.”
“My divorce was finalized recently. Just a few weeks ago. I found out on New Year’s that my husband, well, ex-husband now. He
’s getting married and about to have a baby. It hit me pretty hard, and I needed… I wanted….”
Garrett nodded. “My fiancée and I broke up recently, and I’m not doing well with it. New Year’s was a bad night for me, too.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Bertie, look at me.”
She raised her eyes but kept hugging herself.
“Listen, we’re both adults who just got out of bad places. We were under a lot of strain and got carried away. I felt like shit after. Not that the sex wasn’t good. That part blew my mind. But I need you to know I’m not a one-night man. I didn’t like that I’d taken you against a wall on the night we met for the first time. I’m not the man you met that night, and I wished I could find you again to tell you I’m sorry I did that to you.”
Bertie pulled the corner of her lower lip into her mouth as he spoke and let it slide back out. She let her arms drop. “No need to apologize. I was there with you as a full and sober participant, and I think if I’d walked away, you would have stopped and let me.”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re right. We’re adults. We can chalk it up to a mutually beneficial shared experience we both needed at the time and move on. You’re a professional, and I’m a professional. Let’s start over with that.” She smiled and stuck her hand out. “Hi, I’m Bernadette Shore. Bertie for short. I’ve moved to this area to start a new life and career as an innkeeper. I need help to get my bed-and-breakfast up and running.”
Garrett smiled back as he took her hand in a firm grip. “Garrett MacAteer. Finish carpenter and all-around handyman. Also looking for a new life. I’ll be glad to help you with your bed-and-breakfast.”
“Pleased to meet you, Garrett. Let me show you around, and you can make a list.”
“Pleased to meet you, Bertie. Lead the way.”
“I'm guessing the kitchen should be first. I expect the whole work area needs to be gutted and redone. The cabinets are….”
She turned, and her voice faded. Garrett took a big breath as his eyes dropped to her round ass. The one he’d held in his hands while he fucked her. Friends? He could do it, but damned if it wouldn’t be hard.
Six
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! I jumped out of bed at the loud noises. More like fell out. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, and the work had already started. Guh, what I wouldn’t give for these men to be late risers. They did say they needed to get as much outdoor work done as possible while the good weather held out, but still, it was so ding-dang early and cold!
Garret and Owen both warned me of the amount that had to be done on my inn. Garrett had gone through the house room by room, each one making his face grow more and more incredulous.
“Wiring is not up to code. Water supply is from an unreliable well, so new plumbing, and you’ll need to hook up to the city water and sewer. The structure is good, but there’s water damage in the left wing. Ceilings, drywall, insulation, floors, and mold cleanup before we can get started on finish work. The right wing is in better shape but still needs painting and refinishing. New insulated windows. Bathrooms for each room? That’s gonna take a huge chunk of interior space. The kitchen? Yes, it needs to be gutted and rebuilt top to bottom. Christ, are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes. I have the money.”
“You may easily sink every dime you have in this place.”
“I have a lot of dimes, and I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
The MacAteer brothers knew their business. Only three days elapsed between the assessment and when the yard in back of my inn filled up with stacks of lumber, PVC pipe, and other building materials. The covered part of the back porch became a workshop full of power tools. I recognized the big table saw and the air compressor, but some other stuff, I had no clue.
As the days progressed, a big pile of debris grew on the side of the driveway as cabinets, countertops, and broken or outdated appliances were torn out to be hauled off. Sometimes, all three men were out there, and sometimes two, but every day one of them was Garrett.
I could see him sometimes from my window as he measured and cut. I had no idea what they were doing, but at the end of the workday, I got to see the progress made. It didn’t look like much. The front yard had been torn up for new water lines. Plumbing came next, with lots of pipes. I caught him more than once crawling out from under the house, covered in dirt, cursing and dragging another broken metal pipe.
I made gallons of coffee and carried it out to them. This morning, Garrett and Owen came to work with the intention of finishing the plumbing underneath the house. I started the coffee maker and got dressed while it worked its magic. I tucked the half-and-half carton under one arm and loaded a few packets of sweetener in the front pocket of my hoodie. One of my hands clutched three of my biggest mugs, and I grabbed the thermal carafe in the other before I walked out to greet the men. They had stopped the machines and were staring at the opening to the crawl space.
“How long do you think he’ll be there?”
“Don’t know.”
“Didn’t get a real good look at him.”
“Me either.”
I handed Garrett a mug, and he took it. “What’s wrong?”
He held out the mug for me to pour. Steam rose from the rich dark brew. “Thanks, Bertie.” He gestured with the full mug to the opening. “You have your first guest here, but I don’t think he’s gonna pay much.”
I handed a mug to Owen and poured for him as well. “How’s the baby? Is the new mom okay with you being here?”
A knit toboggan hat sat on his head and a smile broke out over his face. “Real good. Sister-in-law there today.”
“Excellent. I’m so happy for you.” I gestured to the open spot. “An animal?”
“Dog.”
I pulled out the creamer and sweetener for Garrett. Owen liked his coffee black. Garrett preferred medium light and sweet. Like I did. “Is it a stray?”
Garrett took the mug and doctored his brew. “Won’t let us get close to see if he has a collar. Skinny as hell. I bet he’s been on his own for a while.”
My heart clenched in sympathy. “Poor thing. I guess you can’t get anything done since he’s under there?”
Garrett shook his head. “No. We’ll have to call animal control to come get him. Probably take a while.” He looked up at the sky. “Supposed to get freezing rain tomorrow. Really need to get this done before that happens.”
I thought a moment. “Wait here.” I walked quickly back to my cottage and poked through my pantry. A can of Brunswick stew caught my eye. Good enough. I dumped the whole thing in a big serving bowl and heated it up in the microwave for a minute. I pulled down two smaller bowls and carried the lot outside.
“Let me try something before you call the dogcatcher. Give me your phone.”
Garrett handed me a pink glittery Android. I laughed, and he shrugged. “It works for what I need.”
“Oh, yes, Garrett. Pink totally works for you.”
He sipped at his coffee and pointedly ignored me.
I bent down and flicked on the phone’s light. A harsh growl and snarling mouth greeted me from a skinny, shivering dog. I had no idea of the breed or sex of the animal, nor its color under the muddy patches that covered it. Food should be the priority and enough enticement to get the dog out from under the house.
I dipped one of the small bowls into the stew and placed it just outside of the crawlspace opening. “Here you go, pal. Something nice. Mmmm, smells good, doesn’t it?”
The dog’s lips covered its teeth as it sniffed the air. It shuffled forward, then stopped. I moved back and shut off the light. The dog emerged from the crawlspace, ears back and lips quivering as it looked between the men and the bowl.
“Step back a bit, you two. Give him room.”
The dog jumped when Owen and Garrett moved, but the lure of the food overrode his flight instinct. He came all the way out and gulped the contents of the bowl at lightning speed.
“Hey, fella. There’s
more over here if you want it.” I squatted down near the pile of lumber some distance away and dipped the second bowl. The dog’s back hunched and its tail tucked deep between its back legs. Its head swerved between food and safety. Food won out. As it tentatively approached, I backed away.
“Garrett? Would you go pull open that panel that leads under my cottage?”
The dog stopped eating when Garrett walked to my place, but it didn’t run. I took the last bit of the stew and placed it next to that opening. “There. Now you have a place to hide and the men can work in peace. Win-win, right, pal?”
The dog hesitated again before progressing to the last bowl. Its ribs and spine showed prominently. Garrett had not lied when he said he thought the animal had been on its own for a while.
I mentally added a bag of dog food to my grocery list. A big one.
The dog sniffed at the new space and hunkered down to crawl inside. I picked up the two smaller bowls but left the big one so I could fill it with water from the outdoor spigot. I thought my new roommate needed time to get used to its new quarters before I approached it again.
I turned back to the two men and gathered their empty mugs. “Refill?”
Garrett picked up a long, wide white tube. “May after we get these last pipes installed.”
“Great. I’m gonna bake muffins this morning. I’ll bring them out when they’re ready.”
“Connor’s worried.”
Owen’s voice cut through Garrett’s musings as he watched Bertie saunter back to her cottage. Now that the canine obstacle had cleared, they could get back to work. Owen mentioning the concern of their older brother meant he was also concerned. Garrett didn’t blame them. He’d moved into Owen’s tricked-out camper since his twin had officially moved in with Melanie and her baby. Garrett knew his brothers were waiting for him to tell them what really happened between him and Joy. She’d called Connor’s house twice, once getting Beverly and once getting Sarah. Beverly’s nearly twelve-year-old daughter had had no problem telling him her opinion.