Hometown Series Box Set

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Hometown Series Box Set Page 31

by Kirsten Fullmer


  Unfamiliar excitement over the delivery flowed along her spine. When was the last time she’d been eager about something? She honestly couldn’t remember. Fearful of the warm sensations filling her soul, wary and confused, Julia clamped down the locks in her mind, battened down the hatches against the storm assailing her senses.

  Crouching painstakingly by the dog, she patted his head. “Look, Ringo, they’ve got your new doggie bed.” He barked happily, tail wagging, his front paws on the screen. Julia did allow leeway in her heart for Ringo to be excited.

  Chad stepped onto the porch carrying the miniature, four- poster dog bed in one hand and the cushion in the other. “Afternoon, ma’am.”

  His smile felt warm and authentic as it beamed down on Julia, but she didn’t allow it to affect her. Keeping her distance was her first and foremost important rule.

  The man was everything a woman could want, she acknowledged, blinking up at him, but she was not a regular woman any more. He might be staggeringly handsome, as well as charming, even irritatingly engaging, but she didn’t care. She didn’t date, she didn’t flirt, she didn’t play games, and she didn’t allow emotion of any kind to break her resolve. Not that she’d ever been the least bit flighty, but all that male-female mumbo jumbo was behind her.

  “Hello,” Julia replied, polite but curt, grabbing the doorjamb for support as she stood. She bobbed her head, local fashion, as she opened the door.

  The cat jumped from his perch on the wicker chair and wove around Chad’s pant leg.

  “You got a cat,” Chad commented, edging sideways to untangle the cat from his pant leg. The little animal trotted into the house through the open door.

  “Is he still here?” Julia asked, biting her bottom lip and thankful for the distraction so she could distance herself from Chad. She might not be interested, but evidently, nothing was wrong with her hormones, because the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end.

  The fluffy black and white kitty circled the room inquisitively. “I wonder if he’s lost. He’s been here since yesterday,” she muttered. “He must be hungry.”

  “Well, if you feed him, he’s yours.”

  “Why?” she asked, her dark eyes connecting with Chad’s, causing her pulse to jump. How did he manage to pierce her defenses? She took a step back, rubbing one side of her hand with the other.

  Ringo yipped and trotted to the cat, touching his nose to the feline’s.

  Chad laughed warm and bright, causing Julia to flinch. “They say once you feed them, they won’t ever leave.”

  “I hate to think of him being hungry,” she worried, her attention finally on the cat, not the man.

  “Then I guess you own a cat. Where would you like this?” he asked, lifting the dog bed to eye height.

  Julia chewed on her lip as she watched the cat and Ringo. “You can put that right through the door there.” She pointed absently toward the den, now her bedroom.

  Chad glanced to the door, then back into the living room, his gaze roaming over the length of Julia. When his eyes met hers, she cocked a brow, irritated and indifferent.

  “I’m happy to see that the boutique fixed you up with furniture,” he said, sounding genuine even though it was a back pedal from getting caught checking her out.

  Relenting to his friendliness, her shoulders came down a notch. “Becky was great. She even let Ringo and the cat come into the shop, and she gave them a treat.”

  “The cat?” he said, confused. “Yeah, he went with us.”

  “He rode in your truck?” he asked, amusement and surprise causing him to grin.

  Julia’s eyes gleamed at the memory. “He wanted to go. I thought it was kind of weird too.”

  Pleased to see unguarded amusement radiate in Julia’s face for the first time, Chad was soaking her up like sunshine on a cold day. “Becky is a case. We couldn’t do without her around here.”

  Bobby clomped up to the door, his arms full of boxes, interrupting the current of the conversation. Julia turned to open the door, leaving Chad to carry the dog bed into the den. “These here boxes say china, ma’am. You want them in the kitchen?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she answered, following him down the hall, and relaxing in spite of herself. Her thoughts flitted to the china she’d bought, none of which matched. That had seemed odd and vaguely uncomfortable, but sweet somehow.

  Ringo trotted curiously around their feet, and Julia bent to scoop him up.

  Placing the boxes on the narrow countertop by the sink, Bobby turned to her, his jaw working. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke, his voice cracking. “You plan to redo this kitchen? It’s pretty old fashioned.”

  Realizing that Bobby was one of those people with no social filter, she smiled. It felt good to understand the situation for a change and be able to function. “That’s right,” she offered good- naturedly, “What do you think I should do with it?”

  He pushed his glasses up and planted a boney hand on his hip, his eyes darting from one wall to the other. “Well, my momma always says the sink should be under the window.”

  She nodded for him to continue, intrigued by not only moving the sink, but by what made the little man tick. It wasn’t often she lost herself enough to focus on another person.

  “And I see you have a big pantry, so you won’t need a whole bunch of cupboards in here. Are you one of them people that like wood floors, or do you plan to tear them up?”

  Ringo jumped from her arms, and she glanced down. “I like them, but I don’t know how to fix them,” she commented, biting her lip as she ran one toe along a crack in the scratched and stained floor.

  Bobby stared at her, his eyes large behind his glasses. “Me and Chad know how. We did it for my momma in her house.”

  Her brow rose – what did she see in his eyes? “How long have you been working with Chad?”

  He sniffed and his chest puffed out. “Oh, me and Chad grew up together. He used to pal around with my big brother, William. They went off to school together.” His expression darkened momentarily but he continued. “When Chad come back from Philly, he asked me if I’d help him with his new business.” Collecting his thoughts, he appeared to regroup, straightening his thin shoulders, and he smirked as he brushed his finger under his nose. “I told him I supposed I could give up my job at the grocery store to help a friend.”

  Julia wondered briefly when William would turn up and what his story was, but she grinned inwardly over Bobby’s confidence that he’d done Chad a favor. From what she’d seen of Chad and Bobby, she had a pretty good idea how the situation had developed. She’d been taught to read people, and that part of her mind was still sharp. “I see.”

  Hearing chairs scuffle on the floor in the dining room, they headed across the kitchen. Chad was setting four painted wood chairs around a battered thick-leg table. Julia watched as he adjusted the chair, then she sidled up to the table and ran her hand across the scarred top. “How did you get this in here alone?” she asked, glancing up to meet Chad’s eye.

  He shrugged with mock modesty, then a cocky grin spread across his whisker-stubbled face. “Raw muscle power, ma’am,” he replied, flexing one arm and pointing to the bulging muscle.

  Tremors of exhilaration, pleasure, and alarm ran across Julia’s skin as she watched Chad flex. Mixed parts of humor and horror flickered across her face. She hadn’t had a man tease or flirt with her for over a year, and the fluid warmth flowing through her system left her feeling exposed, off balance, and raw. Unsure how to respond, unfamiliar with her body, her appearance, and even her awkward reaction, she was determined not to feel anything and turned away to hide her confusion.

  Chad’s smile withered and he frowned at her back. Turning to Bobby, he cleared his throat. “You ready to help with those hutches?” he asked, sounding embarrassed and annoyed. Bobby nodded and they headed through the living room, with Ringo at their heels.

  Julia reached down to snag up the dog as he trotted past. “You can’t help – you
come with me.” Burying her face in the dog’s warm musky fur, she longed to disappear, or at least to rewind the moment and try again. The man hadn’t meant anything, and she’d been rude, but it couldn’t be helped now. Maybe he finally understood that she wasn’t like other women -- that she had no sense of humor -- and he would keep his distance.

  She crossed the room to stand at the screen, watching the men lift the heavy wooden hutch from the truck. Concern knotted in her stomach as Bobby bent under the weight of the top of the piece. Turning from the door, she cuddled Ringo and tried not to think about the movers being injured.

  Footsteps alerted her when they reached the door, and she hurried to stand on the porch, her head turned, flattened against the wall, the little dog tucked in one arm, and holding the screen with her fingertips as the men maneuvered the large cupboard past her. She couldn’t bear to watch but couldn’t help but notice the muscles in Chad’s arms and back bunch and ripple as he moved past her to angle the hutch to fit under the doorjamb. The movement of skin under fabric sent a fissure of electricity down Julia’s back.

  Tearing her gaze away, she searched the yard, her mind spinning. This was all too new. She’d been around men since her illness, but none had sparked her interest – not like this. Of course, the men she’d seen doing any kind of physical activity were lifting patients or pushing beds.

  All pleasant sensations related to men had been lost to her for what felt like forever. Since her illness, the part of herself that was fascinated with the male physique had just been gone. Over time, she’d come to the conclusion that she would never again experience sexual desire. Hearing blood rush past her ears, she dropped the screen closed with a bang behind the men and plopped into a wicker chair to think, completely forgetting about the guys holding the heavy hutch in her living room.

  Ringo squirmed on her lap, unnoticed, as she sorted through the emotions tumbling in her mind. She remembered sexual attraction like most people remembered how to ride a bike. But recently, overwhelming failure had taught her that thinking you understood something, and actually being able to do it, were worlds apart. Through painful clarity, she had learned to doubt her abilities and face the fact that she couldn’t do most of the million things she used to do on a daily basis. Hell, she’d been lucky to respond to a direct question by a man, let alone experience a hormonal rush.

  Frowning, she ran her fingers through her hair. Once again, just when she felt safe, her body had turned on her, forcing her into unwelcome territory.

  She sighed, confident that Chad would head for the hills anyway, once he knew her a little better. Besides, she remembered enough to know that she had been attracted to spotless, highly-educated, well-spoken, expensively-dressed men -- the type of man who expected a high maintenance stylish woman to pose regally beside him, enhancing his overall look. There would be sharp and witty banter, competition to see who could catch the other at a loss, all of which would culminate with either the man slinking away embarrassed or convincing her he was worth her time.

  Her husband had been like that. she remembered unexpectedly, with a sharp pang of regret. They had shared a cerebral relationship with physical attraction attached on the far side. It had all been measured and calculated, she remembered. Sex, like cooking or portfolio size, was just another measure of a man’s talent and stamina.

  She’d been a real cold-hearted bitch, she acknowledged for the hundredth time. One thing was for sure. She was certainly not accustomed to being drawn to a man’s warm smile or being aroused by his flexing arms. The notion seemed—simple. Unevolved. Backward, somehow.

  “Julia, where do you want this?” Chad called from inside the house, his voice strained.

  Nudging Ringo off her lap, she stood and sighed. Opening the old screen door with a long creak, she resolved that she could not allow herself any stray emotions for Chad. It felt off, and she couldn’t cope with where that might lead.

  Chapter Four

  Chad and Bobby stood in the living room, each holding one end of the china hutch. “I should have asked you where to put this before we came in,” Chad grunted. “Where do you want it?”

  Trying to ignore the sheer amount of testosterone filling the room and concerned for the men’s backs, Julia tapped her finger against her lips. Wandering into the dining room, she glanced toward the kitchen. “Well, I want them both in the kitchen, but I need to redo the floor first—”

  Chad shifted his grip and winced. “So, where do you want it then?”

  Taking pity on the guys, she shrugged. “I don’t know, you can just leave it in there I guess.”

  Ordering Bobby to move toward the wall, Chad set his end of the heavy hutch down and eased it into standing position. “This thing weighs a ton,” he groaned, rubbing his back.

  Bobby flopped back against the wall, his chest heaving and eyes bugging.

  Glancing back and forth between the kitchen and the hutch, Julia frowned. “Do you think this will work?”

  Chad brushed his hands together. “Will what work?”

  Reluctant but with no one to ask, Julia waved for him to follow and wandered into the kitchen, Ringo at her feet. “I bought those two hutches to put on either side of the sink,” she said over her shoulder, “but the sink needs to be moved under the window.”

  Trailing behind her, Chad stopped in the center of the kitchen. She continued toward the old sink and ratty broken cabinets. He glanced from the sink to the window. “You’re not going to put in new cabinets and counter tops?”

  “I don’t think so,” Julia answered, deep in thought, purposely keeping her gaze from Chad as much as possible.

  He walked in a circle, critically surveying the sink, then stared at the wall with a window. “I’m not sure the sink and both those hutches will fit along this wall.”

  Julia winced, her eyes finally settling on his face. “Yeah, I should have measured before I bought them.”

  “Don’t panic yet,” Chad muttered as he unclipped the tape measure off his belt. With an efficient whir and a click, the tape spread along the floor from wall to wall. “Let’s see, looks like 12’1/2” clearance from base board to base board,” he mumbled, rewinding half the tape.

  He moved to the sink and Julia scuttled out of his way, as if to avoid the masculine force field he emanated into the room. He stretched the tape across the length of the ancient piece of porcelain and bent to get a closer look. “Almost 36 inches.”

  The tape retracted with a snap. He crossed his arms across his chest and stared at the stained grooves of the drain board. One calloused hand reached out to test the old fashioned hot and cold taps with X-shaped handles. “You really want to keep this dirty old thing? I’m sure you could get a good deal on a nice new one.”

  Julia wandered back to the sink, her eyes riveted on Chad’s hand, but she ran her fingers along the curved front edge. “Well, not the broken cupboards, but I’m keeping the sink. Becky says it will clean up and I like it. It fits the house.”

  His brows rose. “Okay then,” he said with a shrug, “let’s see how wide that hutch is.” He strode back to the living room, Ringo following at his heels.

  With her steps dragging, enjoying the help far more than she should and lost in confusing notions about Chad, Julia followed behind him. Giving herself a mental shake, she told herself to pull it together, because she required his strength, knowledge, and no-nonsense approach to the project. After all, she certainly had no idea where to start the kitchen renovation.

  Pulling out the tape, Chad measured across the width then the height of the hutch, then walked past Julia toward the kitchen. She followed, forcing herself to focus only on the furniture.

  When she got back to the kitchen, Chad held the tape propped in front of him at hip level with one hand, the yellow steel kinked out and extended to measure along the wall. His stance was purely male, bringing a completely different visual to Julia’s mind, and it didn’t involve a tape measure.

  He glanced up at her, and
then did a double take at her expression. His eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch in question, as if he could hear her hormones screaming.

  Embarrassed to be caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar, Julia straightened her spine and met his gaze, her chin high, her eyes cool.

  As if slapped, the tape measure crinkled to the floor with a clatter, and Chad tore his bewildered gaze away from Julia. Shifting his feet to get back on track, he gave the tape a few expert flips and kinks and measured from floor to ceiling and then from the corner of the room to the center of the window.

  Feeling surprisingly wretched over dousing the warmth in his eyes when he was just trying to help, Julia retreated a step, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.

  Holding the tape in place again with his hip cocked, trying to explain further, Chad turned to Julia. “As you can see, it’s 5’6” to the center of the window, and the sink is 36 inches wide. If you divide the sink by half, then the hutch can’t be wider than 48 inches or your sink won’t be centered under the window. Problem is, that hutch is just over 4’4”.” He gazed at her expectantly, waiting, the tape extending from his hip to the wall, twitching slightly, his expression one of concentration.

  Silence filled the room as Julia struggled to focus on Chad’s words, not the stiff steel tape extending across the room from his crotch. Embarrassed and flustered, she licked her lips, then shook her head, once again reining herself in.

  His brow lifted, as if he knew she was sexually addled but had no idea what her problem was.

  Awkwardly, she glanced toward the window and then back to Chad. Withdrawing mentally and scolding herself, she attempted to break the spell, but failed miserably. A spark of surprised interest glittered in his eye when their gaze clashed, and that catalyst pushed Julia over the edge. She raised her chin, shuttering her expression once again.

 

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