by Lia London
“You know we want her to have a good time here,” prompted Andie just loud enough for Parker to overhear. “That way, she’ll come back, and bring more business.”
“You need a tour guide?” Guy’s voice perked up, and he beamed at Parker. “I’d be happy to show you around.”
“Oh no. You don’t need to feel obligated. It’s not your fault the coupons—”
“Don’t be silly,” he said, scooping the last of the broken pieces onto another napkin and rising to stand a little closer. “I love showing off the island.”
“I don’t—”
“Free of charge.” His voice softened, and Parker caught an engaging sparkle in his eyes. “Since you were supposed to get it from your work.”
Following him through a door in the back, Parker watched him place the broken pieces in a garbage can beside an old-fashioned sink. “You really don’t have to.”
Ignoring her comment, he moved to a narrow closet and retrieved a dust pan and broom. “Want to do the honors?”
“Of course. It’s my mess.” Flustered by Guy’s whole aura, she finished disposing of the remains of the teacup. Part of her didn’t want to owe this many any debt of gratitude, but she also didn’t want to die of boredom for a week. Stealing a sideways glance at him talking to Andie, she apologized to the other guests for disrupting the tea party. No one seemed to mind, but she felt like a newbie stagehand, dropping props and ruining entrances in an amateur production.
At the kitchen door, she paused. Were guests allowed behind the scenes? Hesitantly, she dumped the contents of the dustpan into the waste bin and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet.
Guy appeared in the doorway, and she took a moment to study him. He wore a dark plaid flannel shirt, open over a white t-shirt. Very lumber-jacky, except he wasn’t brawny at all. His beard and hair had a casual, not-trying vibe without coming across as unkempt or dirty. He just was. He wasn’t posturing or trying to garner attention. He struck her as a cultured gentleman disguised as a hick. Except she sensed that Guy Fox didn’t disguise, deceive, or hide much.
“You’re smiling at me,” he said, his eyes shining with a hypnotic intensity.
“Yes?” She felt her smile grow.
“That’s scary. Usually you bark.”
Parker bit her lip, suddenly ashamed. “I’m sorry. You’ve seen me at my worst about five times in a row now.”
“Only three, by my count.”
She snapped him a sharp look. “Okay, I’ll take it. But now seriously, are you stalking me?”
“What? No. I came out here to play the cello, and now I need to fix a water heater. Andie just told me.”
“A water heater.” She stared at him, feeling the crimson rise in her cheeks.
“Yes. In cabin 6.”
“Which is where I’m staying.”
Guy’s mouth opened in a wide, silent laugh. “Oh, funny! What are the odds?”
“Increasingly strange, with you around. I’m thinking of taking up gambling. Want to help me pick the winning numbers?”
He gave her a sly grin and his voice deepened. “So, this is where you take me back to your place and see if we can’t get things nice and hot for you?”
Parker coughed with surprise, then snorted, then clapped her hands to her face with a grunt.
All flirtation gone, Guy deadpanned. “Sorry, I don’t know how to speak soap star. Did I get my timing wrong?”
Wheezing with laughter, Parker peeked out between her fingers. “Yes, but you still get the part. Come on. Let’s go.”
Disaster #5 ~ A Sticky, Stinky Mess
Guy decided to quit teasing and flirting. Neither garnered the response he most wanted, though he enjoyed Daisy’s bright smile now that he’d broken the ice and she’d broken a teacup. Resolving to put her at ease, he found he still had to resist watching her too closely as she unlocked the cabin door and let him in. Her fresh face was flawless to him, except that it lacked laugh lines at the eyes. Did she not have enough humor in her life?
“I don’t even know where the water heater is.” She pursed her lips, distracting his gaze further.
“It’s not hiding in the shower?”
She snickered, and her cheeks rose. “Not unless it’s really tiny.”
Knocking on the door to a linen closet, he called, “Hello? Repair service for a busted water heater.” He opened the door with a flourish to see the water heater cowering in the shadows behind two shallow shelves of extra blankets and pillows. “Oh good. That would have been embarrassing if I’d guessed wrong.”
“But it isn’t embarrassing that you speak to inanimate objects?” Was she teasing now?
“I bet you do it all the time.”
Silent laughter creased the skin beside her eyes, lifting his spirits. “I know a few soap stars who are inanimate objects,” she quipped.
Chuckling, Guy pulled the blankets and pillows off the shelf. “Where do you want these while I work?”
Daisy held out her arms. “Load me up. I’ll stick them on the bed.” She glanced over to where Booster had already claimed the center. “Or not.” Without complaint, she piled the blankets and pillows on the kitchen table.
“Booster, get down!” hissed Guy.
“No worries. He’s fine.” Daisy shrugged. “Better he lie on the bed than the table.”
“True.” Guy removed the shelves. “I can put him back out in the van if you want.”
“No, no. He’s fine.” She sat next to Booster and wrapped her arm around his middle. “See? We’re friends.” She gave him a vigorous rub. “He sure has a soft coat. You must take good care of him.”
“We take good care of each other,” said Guy, feeling hope nudge him. She liked Booster. That had to be a good thing, right? He dropped to his knees and peered back at the water heater. “Ugh. They never make these things easy to access, do they?” Guy reached for his tool box, feeling a gurgle in his stomach when she slid off the bed and crawled closer.
“Mind if I watch?” she asked.
“It’s not really a spectator sport, but sure.” He tucked in his shirt. “However, I am not a real plumber, so I don’t show off my crack.” He ducked his head into the closet to hide his blush as she burst out laughing, a free, almost cartoonish sound.
“Thank you! It’s refreshing to meet a man who can walk full speed across the street because he’s not holding up his pants with one hand instead of wearing a stupid belt.”
“That’s me.” He kicked his feet up and down. “Running across the street.” He reached a hand back. “Can you pass me the headlamp? It’s under the top tray.” A moment later, he felt the light in his palm and a tingle rush up his arm at the touch of her fingers on his skin.
“You going to want a crescent wrench, or is it too tight in there?” she asked.
He fastened the lamp around his head and turned it on. “Probably going to need a socket wrench.”
“What size?”
“I think it’s a 7/16.” He backed out, bumping his head on the copper pipe that routed the contents of the water heater into the bathroom.
“Ow? Are you okay?” She handed him the socket wrench with the correct bit already attached.
He rubbed his head, though he barely felt the bump over the thumping of his heart. She was so close, and for once, she looked happy to be with him. “Wow. You know your way around a toolbox.”
“You pick up stuff working behind-the-scenes in television. A director has to be a Jack of all Trades.”
Director. Another piece of the Daisy puzzle solved. “Any other interesting hidden talents?”
“I do a mean voice-over for prize announcements.”
“Do tell.”
Affecting a booming tone, Daisy held up a screw driver as an improvised microphone. “Isn’t this exciting? Every contestant will take home a brand-new set of Black & Decker power tools, perfect for do-it-yourself projects around the home or rescuing damsels in distress from cold showers in their vacation cabins. And
now back to Jay Walker and his plastic teeth.” She dropped the screwdriver back in the toolbox and muttered, “Don’t tell anyone I said that last bit.”
“Ha!” Guy rocked back so hard he smacked his head on the corner of the open closet door. “Ow!” Though he clutched his skull in pain, he couldn’t stop chortling.
Daisy shuffled over on her knees, taking his head in her hands. Her touch silenced him, and his breath stopped as she leaned over him, her chest inches from his face. Feeling the heat rise up his neck, he squeezed his eyes shut. She tapped the point of injury gently. “Yep, you have acquired yourself a lovely new goose egg. Fortunately, a baby one.” Guy opened his eyes in time to see her sit back on her heels with a sympathetic look. “If you get a few more, you can start selling them on the side of the road. It’s nice and fresh.”
He sighed, patting the bump. “I don’t think I could survive a dozen of those.” Retrieving the socket wrench, he crawled back into the closet. “If you don’t mind my saying, you don’t exude Hollywood.”
“Which means?” She sounded amused, not angry.
“We get celebrities out here, coming all incognito and all, but a lot of them still give off an ‘I bet you can’t keep your cameras off me’ aura.” He reached a hand back. “I was wrong. I need a 3/8.”
He felt her arm brush against him as she passed the tool. “So, you’re saying I’m not much to look at.”
“What? No!” He sat up too quickly and whacked his head again on the pipe. “Ow! I did not just do that again!”
“Going for the dozen after all?” This time, instead of a sympathetic tone, Daisy giggled, a rippling squeak of a sound that reminded him of a guinea pig.
Sitting with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees, he grunted. “That came out wrong.”
“Right. But do you really want to start dropping eggs from your hind end?”
Guy laughed, gingerly probing his new bump. “No, I mean what I said … Yes, you’re plenty to look at. I enjoy the view.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I sound totally pervy.”
Parker’s face flushed. “Not totally. Only a little.”
Mimicking her announcer tone, he pantomimed a used car salesman’s showmanship. “Come on down, folks, and meet this saucy little beauty who will literally knock you out. She knows her hardware and will make you feel soft in the middle.” His eyes widened at his own boldness, and he bit his lips shut before he said more.
Parker’s giggling subsided, and she dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “Wow, you really suck at improv. It’s a good thing you weren’t on my team. You would’ve gotten voted off first episode!”
“Sorry?” Had he offended her?
She extended her leg and tapped his foot with her toe playfully. “It’s okay. I’ll chalk it up to all those brain injuries.”
“Right. Thanks.” He sighed. “I apparently can’t find my way out of this awkward moment, but for the record, you just aren’t Hollywood. You’re real.”
“Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say. It’s probably due to your multiple concussions, but—”
Guy tossed his hands in the air. “I’m trying to be sincere!”
Daisy’s shoulders dropped, and her face glowed with obvious delight. “Good save.”
Unable to resist a tease, he winked. “You look much better than Kamilah Krussman.”
“Well, in her defense, she’s pushing 93.”
He played along. “Pay my respects to her reconstruction crew.”
Daisy snorted and leaned back against the bed. Booster army crawled to the edge beside her and licked the top of her head several times.
“Not me, Booster. It’s your daddy who has the owies on his head.”
Booster gave a traitorous bark and began exfoliating Daisy’s cheek with his tongue.
Guy felt his emotions swell at the sight. With exaggerated caution, he crept into the closet one more time and tried to focus on the water heater instead of the woman just out of reach.
“Seriously, you speak two languages, plus JavaScript and Klingon, you play the cello, you break into cars, and you know how to fix water heaters?” Parker got up and belly-flopped onto the bed beside Booster, positioned so she could watch Guy work. “You really are the smartest guy ever to flunk out of high school.”
“What?” Guy caught himself before he banged his head on the pipe again. “Who told you I flunked out?”
“Some checker at the mini mart.”
“Delores at the Country Corner?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” She turned to Booster with a shrug. “Delores.”
Booster licked her eye.
Guy rubbed his thick hair, causing it to stand up on end. “Why were you and Delores talking about me?”
“Oh. I … um.” How could she explain if she didn’t understand herself? “You’re a hot topic of conversation over corndogs and Lucky Charms. What can I say?”
“Breakfast of champions.”
“Actually, it was dinner.”
“Anyway, I never flunked out.” He pointed a wrench at her. “I got mono my senior year, so I ended up taking online school. I finished early, actually. I even earned two more degrees online while studying appliance repair here from my Uncle Bob.”
She clapped her hands twice. “Of course, you have an Uncle Bob.”
“Don’t you?”
Parker leaned her chin on the back of her hands. “You are a man of many mysteries, Guy.”
“Actually, I’m about as un-mysterious as they come. What you see is what you get.” He stood up, dropping his tools into the box and stretching.
Parker took the time to appraise the man again, approving of the lean build. There were some decent pecs without looking like a toy action figure. “Apparently, you get a lot.” Oops. Did that sound flirty? She amended her statement. “You’re quite the Renaissance Man.”
He gave a gracious bow. “Well, thank you, Miss Parker.”
“You’re welcome, Mr…”
“Fox.”
“Right. I remember. Guy Fox.”
“Yes, but not the Guy Fawkes of English history.”
“Didn’t he blow up Parliament, or something like that?”
“Something like that.” He crouched back down and sorted through his tool box until everything fit in its proper place. “You’re pretty smart for a soap star director, too.”
“Ex soap star director.”
He closed the toolbox with a click of the latch and cast her a curious look. “That sounds interesting.”
“Not very.”
“I’d be interested.”
Parker mumbled another objection, dropping her mouth into the covers to smother any details of her disgruntledness.
“Would you be interested in telling your interesting story over, say, really good organic Thai food in an interesting little restaurant I know?”
She and Booster both lifted their heads. “That sounds interesting.”
“You don’t mind if Booster comes with us, do you?” Guy opened the passenger door of his VW van to let Parker in, but the golden retriever had already claimed the spot.
“Um, no. Do they let dogs in the restaurant?”
“There’s outdoor seating, and we can tether him to the fence.”
“Outdoor …” Parker glanced dubiously at her windbreaker. “You know it’s November, right? News flash: we’re not in the southern hemisphere. It’s 26 degrees outside.”
“46 degrees. There’s a big difference. One is freezing, and the other is balmy by Washington winter standards.”
Parker snorted. “Well, this little girl from L.A. is used to temps in the low seventies until Christmas.”
“No wonder the celebs all post pictures of themselves in skimpy Santa suits.”
“You check out the skimpy Santa suit pics regularly?”
Guy rolled his eyes. “I prefer snowman suits.”
She folded her arms. “Wait a minute. Snowmen just wear hats and a scarf. What pics are you lo
oking—?”
Guy smacked his forehead. “I need to stop trying to sound clever, because I’m coming across as totally depraved, and I promise you I’m not.”
Parker studied his face for a moment, feeling her own transform into that of a giddy school girl. “I believe you. You’re not a womanizing jerk. You just can’t do humor on the fly.”
“But you’ve been laughing for the last half hour.”
“Touché,” she said. “I don’t get to see this level of slapstick every day.”
“Wonderful. I’m glad my clumsiness is so high-rated.” He nudged Booster off the seat and into the open back area packed with tool box and a shiny new dryer.
“Ooh, I should climb into that to get warm,” said Parker.
“Hang on. I might be able to help you out.” He reached behind the seat and pulled out a blue, fleece-lined jacket like his own, only cleaner. “Here, you can borrow this. I wouldn’t want you to turn into an ice sculpture.”
“Matching jackets? How precious.”
He shrugged. “They had a two-for sale a month ago. I’m hard on my clothes, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to grab an extra.”
“Smart.” Parker slipped her arms into the jacket and felt immediate relief from the cutting breeze. “Thanks. This is nice.”
“Are you getting in, or did you want to walk it?”
“Is it that close?”
“We’d get there in time for closing.” With a smile, he ushered her into the passenger seat and shut the door. While he trotted around the front, Booster shuffled forward and nosed his way under Parker’s left arm.
“Sweet furry armrests,” teased Parker as Guy started the engine.
“Yes. He doubles as a foot warmer and extra blanket, too.”
Parker combed her fingers through the dog’s thick coat absently. “Must be nice. I haven’t had a dog since I was a kid. Too hard to take care of when I’m on the road all the time with new assignments.” She chuckled. “Though, I guess you’ve found a way to make it work by bringing him with you. How many jobs do you have, exactly?”
“I’m a semi-professional, free-lance everything.” He maneuvered the van up the steep driveway.