“I’m sorry, Momma,” I whispered, transported back to the past where I used to try so hard to win her approval—and always failed.
Chapter Eight
Everett
“Ev, if you’re determined to be a loner, you may as well enjoy the company.”
Papaw Joe
A frustrated scream filled the air, followed by two hits to the wall. I froze with the sledgehammer in my hand and listened for a second before rushing over to Willa’s door to knock. “Everything okay in there, Willard?” I shouted.
“No!” The locks clicked in rapid succession before the door swung open to bounce off the spring stopper and hit her in the side. She flinched as she stood there, eyes flashing pale blue fire, face twisted with—well, I couldn’t tell what she was feeling. Pain? Rage? Whatever it was, was bad. With trembling lips, she spoke. “My shoes smudged the wall when I threw them.” Her hand swiped beneath her eyes, glassy with tears that I knew were about to fall. “I’ll clean it up. I’ll repaint if it won’t come off—”
“Hey, hey, don’t worry about that. What happened? Wanna talk?” I wanted more than talking. I wanted to hug her, hold her, let her work that painful rage out with me and make her smile again.
“I’ve had enough of talking. I’m all talked out right now, Everett. No thanks,” her voice squeaked over the words as she stared somewhere beyond the back of my head.
“Okay, no talking. Wanna break shit?” I offered her my sledgehammer.
A startled laugh escaped her. “I thought you were fixing shit around here. Not breaking it.”
“Sometimes the best part of building something new is tearing down what stood in its place.” I held out the sledgehammer as an offering.
She took it from me with a twisted smile that fell somewhere between about to laugh and glaring at me. She gasped as her arm fell under the weight and the sledgehammer dropped to the floor still held in her hand. “Real funny, Everett.” I chuckled at her shocked expression, causing her to scowl at me.
“I have a lighter one, no worries. Do you have steel toed boots?”
“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll go put them on right now. No, I don’t have steel toed boots.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone, but it was better than the pain that had filled her voice before. So, I’d take it.
“You can wear some of mine.” I gestured to the shelf next to the laundry area where I kept my work things.
“Thanks.” She eyed me and headed over to the shelf to peruse my stuff.
“Grab some coveralls, and protective glasses too. You don’t want to get that pretty white shirt all dusty.”
“Okay…” I watched as she slipped on a pair of coveralls, laughing at how big they were on her.
“Sit on the bench, Willard.” She sat. I knelt in front of her to roll up the hems. As I moved to adjust the shoulder straps, our eyes met and held. Her breath caught as my fingertips grazed her arms. “The boots will be big on you, but it’s better than breaking a toe, right?” She nodded, eyes never leaving mine, as I slipped a boot on one foot, then the other. I stood and took a step back. “Better?”
She stood up and giggled when she stepped right out of the boots. I caught her arms as she stumbled toward me. “Dang, Everett, your feet are huge.”
“I’m six foot six. If my feet were smaller, I’d fall over.”
“True enough. I’ll just put them on when we get—wait, what shit are we gonna break?” Her eyes were lit with amusement instead of unshed tears. Proving that demo day could cure whatever ailed a person.
“We’re going to knock down a wall in the dining room.” I couldn’t stop myself from winking at her.
Her eyes grew big with excitement as her lips quirked to the side. “Cool.”
“Yeah, cool.” I grinned. “Come on.” Grabbing a lighter weight sledgehammer along with my own, I gestured for her to precede me up the stairs to the main part of the house.
“I still think that room is haunted,” she said with an exaggerated shudder as we passed the entrance to the formal living room.
“Well, we’re about to knock the wall down. If there are any ghosts, we’ll find out.”
She turned back to face me, and the laughter in her expression made my heart pound hard in my chest. Improving her mood had become essential to me. “Ha ha, make your fun, but when we’re run out of here by angry spirits, I’ll be the last one laughing.” Her teasing voice only added intensity to my heart’s pounding reaction to her.
“Sure, from behind me, from where you’ll be hiding while I battle the crazed demons from the underworld that were living in my walls. Muahhahaha.” I laughed ominously and led her into the dining room where white sheet-covered furniture dominated the center of the room.
Her laughter trailed behind her as she stepped around me to go through the arched entrance and fully into the room. Spinning around with a smile, her blue eyes twinkled at me beneath the light of the chandelier. She was so fucking beautiful. The fact that I’d been the one to light her up pierced my heart with a bolt of—stop it, Monroe.
“What’s under the sheets?” she questioned.
“Oh, just a table, chairs…” Damn, the thought of her witnessing the true depth of my geekery had me a bit nervous. I flinched when she flung the sheet from the table. Her wide eyes snapped to mine, and her mouth dropped halfway open.
“Is this a gaming table? I knew you were opening a shop. I didn’t know you really played. I thought you were just trying to make a quick buck off the nerds in town. Dungeons and Dragons and that kind of stuff is very popular lately—”
“Why would you think that?”
“Look at you!” her voice was accusatory, like I’d done something wrong.
“What do you mean—look at me?”
“Duh, you’re gorgeous, Everett. Hot guys like you don’t play games, or at least not the kinds of games I want to play.”
“Well, do you play?” I asked. Her smirk was her answer, her raised eyebrows and laughing eyes were a challenge. “I mean, look at you,” I accused right back. She rolled her eyes. “You look like a supermodel—you don’t play,” I scoffed, throwing down the gauntlet.
Her eyes twinkled into mine as she held her hand out. “Ceto, my surname is dependent upon who’s asking for it. Chaotic neutral, half-elf rogue. I used to play back in high school with Sabrina and a few other girls. It’s been a long time.
Fucking marry me right now. I shook her hand before whipping the sheet from one of the chairs to hold in front of myself. I was hard as a fucking rock. She looked like a wet dream, had the smartest mouth I’d ever encountered, a tender heart I was pretty certain I’d die to protect and she played Dungeons and Dragons. I was in serious danger of making a giant ass of myself over her. “Well, what do you play, Everett?”
“Uh, usually I DM; but when I play, I’m Ulfric Heartgrave, Neutral good, human ranger.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Of course! Of course that’s what you’d be. You big hero, you.” The shadows moved back in her eyes as the smile left her face. “I’m ready to break shit. Let me at it.”
I pointed to the wall in front of her. “Take a swing.”
“Straight in? Just swing at it?” She hesitated.
“Watch me first.” I wound up like I was swinging a baseball bat and sunk my sledgehammer into the old drywall with a soft crunch. Dust puffed out to coat the floor and my coveralls. I pulled it out, dragging a large piece of the wall to the floor. I tilted my head toward her, and she stepped up with a determined look. Imitating me, she swung and hit the wall, laughing as she tried to pull the stuck sledgehammer out.
I stepped close and reached around her to grasp her hands and help her pull. Her back brushing my front put me in danger of another hard-on, but I managed to act like a grown-up and not regress to my teenage reactions. “You have to wiggle it sometimes,” I explained as I shifted her arms side to side.
“Like this?” she breathed, turning her head to face me.
“Yeah.” Wit
h a fingertip, I pushed the safety goggles up the bridge of her nose, breathing in her sweet scent and trying once more to regain control over my body’s raging response to being this close to her.
“Thanks,” she murmured. Black eyelashes fanned over her freckled cheeks as her eyes drifted to half-mast and the goggles slid adorably down her nose. Then her stomach rumbled loudly, and she shook her head side to side as her eyes slammed the rest of the way shut and a blush rose over her neck to color her face.
I chuckled, her rumbly stomach and I were becoming well acquainted. “Is that your stomach again, Willard? I thought you went to dinner with your family?” I straightened and set her sledgehammer next to mine on the floor.
Her chest rose with a huge sigh as she met my eyes. “I decided to skip dinner since it came with a heaping side of my mother’s bullshit. I don’t need that anymore. It’s why I ran—I mean, I left. Who needs that? Right?” Shutters slammed down behind her eyes, attempting to hide her hurt feelings, and probably her past, from me.
“Right, life is too short to put up with bullshit. Anyway, my mother was doing her canning today and she brought over a few jars of her spaghetti sauce. I’ll cook, and you can pick something to watch. We can eat in there.” I gestured to the living room and paused before entering the kitchen. “Willard, you’ll be okay—promise.” I headed behind the counter to open the fridge. I took out two beers and tossed her one. She caught it, her face relaxing into a smile. The best way to take care of her was to just do it without the option for her to accept it. Took me awhile, but I’d figured that out, at least.
“Okay. What do you want to watch?” she asked, cracking open her beer. “Movie or a binge watch?”
“Binge watch.” I peeked over the refrigerator door to grin at her. “I just got the limited-edition DVD set of the greatest show of all time. Put that on.”
Her laugh was obnoxious, like seals at the beach. It was adorable and unexpected from someone who looked as if dainty tinkling bells should be the sound to express her joy. “Ohhh, is this a test?” She snorted and I grinned broadly at her from behind the counter. “Do I have to figure out what the greatest show of all time is?” she asked.
“Yeah, we’ll see if you can get it right.” I reached high for a pot hanging over the stove, smiling inside when I noticed her checking out my abs. She slid onto a barstool and sipped her beer as I filled the pot with water for the noodles.
Her eyes were gentle as she searched my face. “You like to take care of people, don’t you, Everett? Just so you know, I usually don’t need this much taking care of—”
“Stop. It’s just spaghetti, Willard.” I downplayed my feelings, sure that she would run off if I let out even the slightest clue to what I was really beginning to feel for her.
“It’s more than spaghetti…” she whispered. And it was more than spaghetti. I found myself wanting to fall for her right now—but it wasn’t safe. So, for now, I’d settle for wanting her to let me in, just a little bit. I smiled my encouragement for her to keep talking. “I don’t want to be that girl ever again, Everett. The girl begging to be loved and accepted without having to change everything about myself. I won’t do it.”
“Real love takes you for who you are,” I declared.
“Real love doesn’t exist,” she countered.
“Look at Wyatt and Sabrina. Are they real?” Her lips pursed as she looked away, out the window. “They wouldn’t change a thing about each other,” I said as she avoided my eyes.
“Maybe they’re the exception. Maybe after everything Sabrina went through as a kid, she deserves it—”
“And you don’t?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“You didn’t have to,” I murmured. Abruptly, she stood and snatched up her beer.
“I’m going to put the show on. I bet I can figure it out,” she teased as a too-bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes crossed her face. She turned away and I realized I had pushed too far. I needed to be careful not to scare her off.
I heard her rummaging through the cabinet full of my DVD collection, muttering to herself, but I was too far away to hear what she said until, “Ah-ha! I’m on to you, Everett,” she called.
“We’ll see about that,” I called back. I stirred the sauce and dropped the noodles into the water, grinning to myself like a sap. She had me all wound up with lust and curiosity. It was the strangest feeling; I wanted to know everything about her just as much as I wanted to take her to bed. I’d never had both desires at the same time. I grabbed a bagged Caesar salad, dumped the contents into a serving bowl, tossed some frozen garlic bread into the oven and set the timer.
“Here we go,” she popped her head through the archway with grin on her face, brandishing the remote control over her head like it was prize she had won. My eyebrows went up as she tilted her head and pressed play. The theme song from Firefly filled my surround sound speakers. I was glad to be behind the kitchen counter because my almost ever-present Willa-induced boner decided to make his presence known at that very moment, making me cringe inside because—really? Come on. My heart surged because I felt like maybe she did know me—even just a little bit—and it was thrilling.
The grin that split my face was huge as I took her in—heading my direction with her huge smile, tight jeans, and tiny white T-shirt—but it was more than that. I saw her spirit shining in her eyes. She’d fought her melancholy mood and won, at least for now. I felt a curious pride at her strength. “You win, Willa,” I conceded her victory.
“I saw the Serenity on your coffee table,” she admitted. “It gave you away. But I agree, Firefly is the best—Captain Tight Pants for life.”
She made me laugh. The expression she wore was adorable, and her grin was irresistible. Each new side of her personality became another reason to like her more. “How old were you when that show came out? A toddler?” I teased.
“Sabrina and I got into it years after it was on TV. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t appreciate the finer things about it—like Nathan Fillion’s ass in those brown pants.”
“Gotcha.” I chuckled as I grabbed dishes from the cabinet. “Time to eat.” I heaped a huge serving of spaghetti onto her plate, chuckling again as her eyes widened at the never-ending pile of parmesan cheese I began grating over the top. “It’s all about the cheese.” I winked at her and noted that her cheeks grew pink and her smile softened after I did it.
“That’s too much.” Her words contradicted the nodding of her head each time the grater passed over the cheese.
“There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to parm.” She laughed, and we finished filling our plates and brought them to the couch, grinning at each other like kids as the episode started.
We ate and we watched. I was surprised that I was able to relax with her just like I would with any one of my friends. I did not have to hide the geek that lived within, and it was a breath of fresh air. Women I had dated in the past never seemed to want me to be…myself.
“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!” We recited in unison, then roared with laughter before collapsing together back against the cushions with my arm around her shoulder. She stiffened briefly, then relaxed into my side to watch the rest of the episode.
Chapter Nine
Willa
“Men tell you what they think is true. Then you spend the rest of your life figuring out that they’re wrong. You can only depend on yourself.”
Momma
Belatedly, I realized my mistake.
Here I was, like a stupid, clueless ingenue, watching TV with him, on his freaking couch, after he’d cooked a nice dinner. I had warned myself about this very thing and just look at me.
He got me here—stealth mode—like all the good guys did, and now I was sprawled against his deliciously hard body watching the best show ever with a satisfied stomach and a heart filled with…I didn’t even know what it was filled with, but it needed to get lost. I couldn’t fall for Everett. That went aga
inst my whole lone wolf, no men allowed life plan. I heaved out a huge sigh, which only served to press me closer into him. God, he smells good.
Despite the rules I had set for myself—and the fact that I was breaking them—I was smiling. He’d made me feel better tonight, and it had been effortless. His heart was kind and he could cook the heck out of spaghetti. Plus, we shared the same life philosophy: no such thing as too much parm. He was becoming the best part of my days—and it had to stop.
Did I play it smart and move to the other side of the couch? Of course not. I rarely played things smart; I was the queen of bad choices. And in that spirit, I made an inevitable decision and pulled his face down to mine to kiss the hell out of him. Pressing my lips to his, breathing him in, running my hands into that gorgeous soft hair I’d been dying to touch—Gah! I flicked the band that held his hair back and let it spill over my palms, giving a tug to bring him closer to my open mouth and seeking tongue. I wanted some part of him in me and I wanted it now. His hands gripped my waist as he hauled me closer. We didn’t speak. Words wouldn’t be adequate to express the way I felt right now, and his eyes had done the talking for him. His gaze stripped me naked.
“Willa…” he breathed against my lips when I pulled back to look into his eyes. And didn’t that just push every sexy button that existed in my body. He said my name. Heat flooded my veins as I moved to straddle him, gasping when I discovered he was already hard for me. Crazed with lust and mesmerized by the sound of my name on his beautiful full lips, I ground down against his lap as he wrapped his arms around me and took my mouth in a searing kiss. I felt a change in me as he touched me. Something shifted as a spark of trust joined the lust and lit me up inside. I had the feeling that all I had to do was say the word and he would stop without anger or recrimination.
Carpentry and Cocktails: A Heartfelt Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 5) Page 7