by Marika Ray
A huge grin was his response. “Awesome. We’ll have so much fun this week.” Like this was suddenly summer camp, and we’d be best pals by the end.
I shook my head, pretty sure nothing about the next few days would be fun.
“A few days,” I corrected him.
“A week,” he whispered in my ear as he stepped clear of the glass shards and left the kitchen to stand by Chester. “Thank you for cleaning that up. Oh, and I wear slip-ons predominantly, so don’t worry about me tying my shoes and dying anytime soon.”
I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes to silently count to ten. A few days or a week. All of it would be straight torture. When I had my anger and disbelief at the abrupt change of events in my life on lockdown, I bent down to pick up the largest shards of glass. Tossing them in the trash, I headed to the coat closet I saw when I came in the door. An old Hoover vacuum stood at attention, the brown vacuum bag overfilled with dust bunnies escaping. I took another deep breath and refrained from rolling my eyes. Once I had the vacuum bag cleaned out into the trash can, I plugged it in and made sure all the glass was picked up.
“Here you go, Sunshine.” Charlie stood by the hideous floral couch with a stack of linens and that damn smile I wanted to wipe from his face. Chester was right behind him, a golden shadow.
“It’s Finnie,” I snapped.
His smile didn’t falter. “I know, but Sunshine just seems to fit you so much better. Don’t you think?”
I did roll my eyes then. “Listen. We need to get a few things straight. I’ll help you with the necessities around here, but I’m not a maid. In fact, I have a very important meeting with the mayor this week to prepare for. That will have to be my priority, got it?”
Charlie nodded and Chester whined.
“Well, good night then. See you in the morning.” Charlie left the room, his muscles flexing as he went, his dog by his side.
It would be a long, confusing week stuck here.
Because even though he drove me crazy, Charlie was also hot as hell.
4
Finnie
The walls were singing to me like I was trapped in some twisted animated movie and the beast would soon sweep into the room and twirl me around a fancy ballroom. Instead, I got a wet tongue scraping the back of my hand, jarring me from the bizarre dreams I’d had all night long while tossing and turning on the couch that had seen better days.
I blinked my eyes and groaned. Chester sat next to the couch, his sweet brown eyes staring me down, panting that horrible dog breath right in my face.
“Chester…” I whined, reaching up to scratch behind his ears.
Then froze when the singing started again. This time it wasn’t the walls. It was coming from down the hallway.
“Sweet Finnie-girl, duh, duh, duh, my nurse extraordinaire come fetch me my pants. Oh please, sweet Finnie…”
I admit, I wasn’t at my best before a cup of coffee in the morning, but after a rough night of sleep in a strange place with an even stranger man singing to me at the top of his lungs like I was his personal servant was just downright maddening.
I flung off the blankets and scrambled to my feet. Chester whined and backed away, sensing the storm cloud brewing. While I padded down the hall, he followed, his nails clicking on the laminate flooring. At the doorway to Charlie’s room, I skidded to a stop, every drop of heated blood going up in flames for a different reason.
Charlie laid out on his back in bed, the sheets a rumpled mess around him. His black boxers barely contained the body parts it was designed to cover, or maybe it was that his body parts were too large to be contained. Who knew? But that wasn’t all. His muscular legs were that of a sprinter, defined yet bulky with a power I suddenly needed to be witness to. Even his feet were attractive and I didn’t say that lightly. I now understood where foot fetishes came from. The ripped torso I’d perved over last night was back in action, no man glitter this morning as Charlie ran his hand up his six-pack abs and placed his palm over his heart, but just as distracting.
“Sweet, Finnie-girl…” he sang again to the tune of Sweet Caroline.
I grimaced and plugged my ears, snapping out of whatever trance his body had me in.
“You realize you’re hurting Chester’s ears too, right?” I took a step into his bedroom.
Charlie smiled, and I had to admit, just-woken-up-and-hair-all-a-mess Charlie was a sight to behold. “Chester loves my singing voice. He whines when I sing, like he’s trying to sing along.”
I snorted. “Or maybe he whines because you’re hurting his ears.”
Charlie batted away my comment by swiping his good hand through the air. “I need some pants.”
“Yeah, I’ll say,” I grumbled.
“What’s that?” he asked as he sat up in bed and ran a hand through his hair.
I snatched a rumpled pair of jeans off the chair in his room and threw them at him. “You need a haircut too. And a shower.”
Charlie lifted an eyebrow, an impish gleam in his pure blue eyes. “Wanna scrub my back, nurse?”
I very much wanted to scrub his back—amongst other things. I sucked in a breath and shut down that thought, but not before my lady parts got excited, thinking they might see an end to the dry spell we were in.
“I’m a doctor, not a nurse,” I snapped.
Charlie stood, putting one foot and then the other in his jeans. He tugged them up his incredible legs an inch at a time, only having one hand to use. With an eye roll, I stepped forward and helped him pull them up all the way to his belly button. He yelped and pulled them down a bit, at least until I could see the two veins that ran down his lean abdominal region. Moving quickly, I buttoned up his pants and fumbled for the zipper.
“Hey, easy there, Doc.” He lurched back.
“Well, you can’t leave your fly open all day.”
“I beg to differ, but if you insist on feeling me up and then zippering me, make sure you take some care. Wouldn’t want stitches down there too.”
My face heated, and I hated him for making me blush. I dealt with semi-naked patients all day, every day, so why did this particular one have me riled up? I zipped up his jeans and took a huge step back, unable to look him in the eye. “How about some breakfast and then I’ll leave you to your day?”
“Do you make a good pancake, Doc?” Charlie’s stomach let out a rumble, drawing my eyes to his washboard abs. Again.
“I don’t have time for pancakes.” I spun and marched out the door. “And put a shirt on, would you?” I called over my shoulder.
His kitchen cabinets weren’t bare, but they were close. I found a pan, turning on the stove and twisting to the refrigerator to find eggs, bread, and butter. Perfect. I’d make a quick breakfast and then get out of there to cool off and get back to putting the finishing touches on my business plan.
“So where were you an ER doctor?”
I fumbled an egg, nearly dropping it on the floor. I hadn’t even heard Charlie come into the kitchen. Chester trotted in and sat next to me, probably waiting for me to drop some crumbs. If he didn’t watch it, he’d get a raw egg instead. I kept my back to Charlie and got busy making breakfast.
“San Francisco. Did my residency there and stayed on.”
“Hmm.” The grumble could have meant a dozen things. I didn’t care about any of them. I was only here to make up for injuring Charlie. Making friends wasn’t a priority.
“Did you enjoy it?”
I nodded, flipping the eggs with the one and only spatula in the drawer next to the stove. “I did. It was hectic, and the hours were crazy, but I had that sense of a job well done when I went home for the day.”
“Why are you here in Auburn Hill then? We don’t have an ER and I’m sure any urgent care you build won’t be as thrilling as a big city emergency room.”
The man was nuts, but astute. He was right. I wasn’t looking to recreate the adrenaline rollercoaster I had in San Francisco. I needed something calmer. Still high-level medicin
e, but without the dose of panic. Fact was, I’d hit a wall in the city. I’d frozen when I needed to be reacting quickly with a level head. I could pinpoint the exact time it all changed, and I went from being a top rate doctor to a panicked worrier who was only in the way. Not that I had any intention of sharing that with Charlie or anyone else. I’d moved to a new town for a reason, after all.
“There comes a point in a woman’s life when she wants something a little more stable. A bit less hectic,” I answered vaguely, sliding the eggs onto two plates.
“Why aren’t you married?”
I nearly choked and shot him a look of disbelief over my shoulder. Ignoring the way he looked lounging over the tiny breakfast bar without a shirt, I had that strange mix of lust and disgust again. What was it with this man eliciting seemingly opposite feelings at the exact same time? It was like a special talent that no one appreciated.
I grabbed the toast out of the toaster and spread the butter. “I didn’t realize getting married was something I needed to check off my list. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. I have plenty of time should I decide that’s what I want to do. Why aren’t you married?”
“Haven’t met the right woman yet, but I fully intend to co-habitate whether a formal marriage is involved or not.”
“Good for you.” I spun around with our plates, wanting to get out of there as soon as I could before this line of questioning went any further. I didn’t care about Charlie’s marital outlook. I couldn’t care. I had career plans that couldn’t be sidelined by a weird neighbor with a body that made me break out into a hot flash.
“So, what’s Finnie short for?”
I nearly dropped the plates, eggs and all. That was definitely not a topic I wanted to discuss.
“It’s not short for anything,” I answered primly, setting the plates down and digging in.
Charlie didn’t even glance at the food, just stared at me.
“What are you doing?” I asked around the egg in my mouth.
“You don’t really think I’m going to believe Finnie isn’t short for something right?” Charlie tilted his mouth to one side. “I mean, you did stitch me up last night, so maybe I should ask to see your credentials to make sure I’m not putting my life in a liar’s hands. For all I know, you might not even be a doctor.”
I swallowed hard, not even tasting the eggs. “Oh, that’s low.”
He shrugged and used his left hand clumsily to cut a bit of egg.
I sighed. He could find out easily enough if he dug around. “It’s short for Rudolfina.”
He whooped loudly, those lines around his mouth teasing out a smile on my own face despite myself.
“Shut up!” I reached over and smacked his chest, regretting that reaction the second I touched his warm skin. My cheeks flared hot, and I got busy eating the rest of my egg. My body was a traitor.
“Rudolfina? That’s amazing. Honestly. I fuckin’ love it.”
I rolled my eyes and didn’t make eye contact. “Yeah, okay, whatever.”
His hand landed on mine, my fork clattering to the plate not from the force but simply from the intimate touch. “I’m serious.”
I looked up, yet another mistake where Charlie was concerned. His blue eyes still had that twinkle, but they also appeared completely lucid and serious.
“You should be proud of that name. It’s whimsical and different and perfect. Just like you.”
I melted. Yep, I straight up melted into the bar stool, a reaction I hated as much as I loved. He had to be lying. No one had ever loved my name, myself leading the pack of those who fervently hated it. And I certainly wasn’t a whimsical or perfect person. If only he knew.
“You’re out of your goddamn mind,” I said quietly.
Charlie just smiled, damn him. “Maybe, but what a way to go about life, huh?”
5
Finnie
The music blared out of the tiny speakers in my car as I headed back home, my approved business proposal sitting in the passenger seat underneath two bags of takeout containers from Forty-Diner. If it came deep fried, I’d ordered it. The mayor had a killer poker face, but after a grueling round of questions on the tail end of my presentation late this afternoon, he’d approved my plans. Now I needed to build out the empty retail space on Brinestone Way and I’d have myself a proper business.
Tonight, though, I would celebrate. The last two days had been stressful taking care of Charlie and Chester, as well as unpacking my new house and polishing my business plan. I could take one night to celebrate the life I was building before getting down to work again on the gritty details.
I pulled into Charlie’s long driveway, not bothering to stop by my place as most of my toiletries were at Charlie’s, along with a couple day’s worth of clothes. I’d underestimated how much help a grown man would need down one hand. There was no doubt a woman wouldn’t have needed any help, but a man? Dear Lord, they were babies with injuries.
The wound looked good so far—no sign of infection—and the stitches were so smooth I’d bet my clinic he’d barely have a scar. But the guy seemed to have an unhealthy aversion to clothing for a fully grown male. I couldn’t take much more of seeing muscles popping every time I glanced around. It was enough to have my libido spinning out of control, despite how irritated he made me when he opened up his mouth.
Climbing out of the car, I saw a stack of wood planks piled outside his workshop that hadn’t been there this morning. What was that man up to? If he split my perfect sutures hauling wood, I’d kill him.
“Charlie?” I called out as I entered through the unlocked front door.
I still couldn’t understand leaving your house unlocked, but none of my valuables were there so I didn’t press too hard. Setting the bags on the small kitchen counter, Chester ran up to me from somewhere in the house, his happy tail wagging hello and planting an idea in my head about getting one of my own as I settled into Auburn Hill.
“Where’s that crazy dad of yours, buddy?” I asked him.
He barked and trotted to the back door. I followed him outside and to the workshop. Damn fool was trying to still work with a hand he couldn’t use. Hot irritation hit the top of my head at his negligence. Here I was altering my whole life to stay with him and nurse him to health and he was back here doing more damage?
This time, when I saw him hunched over the huge sander, I waited until he stepped away before announcing my arrival.
“What the hell are you doing?” I called from the doorway, not trusting myself to come in any further, because of course, the guy didn’t have a damn shirt on again.
His dark head of tousled hair popped up, and he smiled, the grin so natural and pure it made me grumpier. I was here to yell at him, not ogle his model handsome face and torso.
“How’d it go?” he asked, running his good hand along a plank of wood.
Damn him. Of course, just when I wanted to pick a fight he’d be sweet and ask how my proposal went.
I took a couple steps into the workshop, inhaling the smell of wood and varnish. “It went really well, thanks for asking. The mayor gave the green light and said he’s sure the city council will agree. He already proposed one of the office build-outs on Brinestone for my urgent care and I got to check it out.”
Charlie stepped around the worktable and before I could brace myself, he pulled me into a hug, his strong arms wrapped around me tight. My cheek squished against his bare torso and I may have inhaled some man glitter as I got a signature whiff of soap and sweat and wood that already registered in my brain as Charlie.
“Congratulations, Rudolfina. That’s news we should celebrate.” He pulled back, all smiles and flexing muscles.
And there he went again, leaving me discombobulated over how I felt. The hug and sincere congratulations made me want to call him friend. The muscles pressed against me, causing a heat to bloom in my body, made me want to climb him and use his machinery. And then finally, the damn usage of my given name when he knew I didn’t like it, l
eft me feeling ragey.
And ragey always won.
“It’s Finnie, mister,” I snapped, disentangling myself and stepping back to breathe fresh, un-Charlie-scented air. “And I’m already past you on the celebrating. I’ve got food from Forty-Diner and a bottle of red wine waiting for us in the house.”
Charlie whooped, the sound echoing off the tall walls of his workshop and bleeding out some of the rage. He spun back around to shut off his sander, put his arm across my shoulders, and walked us out the door. Chester ran around us in circles, feeling the excitement and wanting in on the party.
“I’ve got some moonshine I’ve been saving, but tonight seems like the night.” Charlie’s voice was a low rumble against me.
It felt way too good under his arm, so I dashed ahead on the pretenses of getting the back door open for him. All kinds of lines were being crossed because of our living circumstances and I wasn’t happy about it. My body seemed on board and all too happy, but thankfully I was an intelligent, mature woman, run by my brain, not my hormones.
Charlie started going through the cupboards, looking for something. I had no intention of drinking any moonshine, special batch or not, so I opened one of the bags from the diner to spread it out on the counter.
“Nope. Keep it in the bags. We’re traveling, woman.” Charlie came up behind me with paper plates, napkins, and forks. “Let’s put these in there and I’ll grab the moonshine.”
I rolled my eyes, but did as he asked. “Where are we going?”
He came back with a mason jar in his hand, filled with what I could only guess was moonshine, not that I’d ever had it before or knew anything about it. He’d also found a shirt on the counter and put it on. Thank God for small miracles.
“Just leave it to me.”
I grabbed the two bags, and he stuffed my wine bottle between his arm and his body, leading us out the back door again. The three of us walked past his workshop, where the trees got a bit denser.
“Is this still your property?” I asked wearily. I didn’t fancy getting shot for trespassing tonight.