by Claire Adams
After a few more chapters of my book, I heard an unfamiliar truck coming down the driveway. A bigger truck. I jumped from my seat and ran to the door. The big orange logo let me know that my things were finally here. Since I didn’t want to answer the door in my PJs, I ran upstairs, pulled on a pair of jeans, and made it to the door just as the driver was about to knock.
“Miss Myers?”
“That's me.” I wanted to bounce up and down and clap, but I restrained myself.
“We can leave the truck here for two days to give you time to unload it. I can show you how to work the plank that should make things easier to unload. I'll back the trailer up as close as I can to the door.” He handed me a form, and I signed it, handing it back to him.
“Do you have someone to help you?”
“I can get most of it by myself.” He looked at me and then looked back at the truck.
“Okay, then.” He turned and walked back to the truck. I pulled my phone from my pocket and quickly called the closest moving company I’d researched before the move and was informed that the soonest they could provide a couple of guys to come out would be three days from now.
I hung up and glanced next door. I could ask and he and Ryan would probably help me, but I didn't want to. I watched as the driver turned the truck around and slowly backed up until he was less than a foot from my steps. He hopped out and placed blocks at the tires, pushed some buttons, and then disengaged the truck from the trailer.
“I’ll be back early on Thursday morning to pick up the trailer. Here’s our card. If you find you need help unloading anything, let us know, and we can arrange something for Thursday when we come back to pick up the truck. Have a nice day.”
“Thank you.” I took the card and considered that hiring them to unload my furniture might be my best option.
I cut the zip tie on the latch that I had placed before they left my apartment in Maine and pushed the door up. I extended the ramp and placed it on the porch so I could walk straight across. The truck wasn't even half full, and I was having a hard time getting the placer moved. I wiggled and shimmied it, but it wouldn't budge.
“Son of a...” I mumbled.
“You need some help?” I heard from behind me. I looked over my shoulder, and Luke was standing there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. His beard had been trimmed, and he had on a white button up shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. I sucked in a breath, trying not to be obvious, but the man was beautiful.
“I—I can't get this loose,” I sighed.
He walked over to me. “Here, you have to push this in and then up.” He made easy work of the placer and moved it to the side. I saw my favorite lamp teeter and start to fall, but he turned and caught it before it crashed to the floor. He handed it to me, and I turned and walked down the ramp and took it in the house. I unhooked the spring from the door and let it drift back to the wall so I wouldn’t have to worry about the door shutting on me as I brought boxes in. When I looked up to start back to the truck, Luke had several boxes in his arms and was walking toward me.
“You don't have to help me,” I said as he looked around the boxes making sure he was on the ramp.
“I know that, but I'm here, and I’m going to help if you’ll let me,” he said, giving me a look that was both questioning and affirming.
“Well, thank you.” I smiled up at him.
He sat the boxes down and removed his button-up, revealing a white v-neck t-shirt beneath that pulled across his broad shoulders in all the right places. I forced myself to look away.
We worked for the next three hours, moving most of the stuff into the house. He must have sent a text to Ryan at some point because he came over and they moved all of my bedroom furniture upstairs and the larger pieces of furniture as well. It hadn't taken very long with the three of us working. A little less than four hours after we started, I was pulling the last of the stuff from a box in the kitchen while the guys put my sofa, the last of the furniture, against a wall in the living room.
I heard someone outside, pushing the ramp to the truck back in place, as I reached into my last kitchen box and pulled out the glass pitcher my grandmother had given me years ago. I was pushed up on my tiptoes, trying to push the pitcher onto the shelf above the stove when I felt the warmth of him behind me. Taking the pitcher, he set it on the shelf for me, pressing closer to me in the process. The closeness was alarming and settling all at once. When he stepped away, I turned to say thank you, and heat flushed through my cheeks.
He stared down at me, his body barely an inch from mine. My pulse pounded in my chest.
“I need a beer or twelve,” Ryan said, breaking the moment.
Luke quickly took a couple of steps back as Ryan entered the kitchen.
“I bought a six pack the other day,” I replied and moved toward the fridge.
“Honey, I brought my own,” he winked and smiled as he lifted a blue cooler and sat it on my kitchen table. He opened the lid and passed Luke a brown bottle then pulled out a dark green bottle for himself.
“I wasn't sure what your flavor of poison was, so I hoped you had something you liked here.”
“I actually found this at the grocery store.” I lifted the bottle and pointed at the label.
“Dead Guy, I like your taste. It's better than his,” he pointed at Luke.
“I have to drink the light stuff, calories dude,” Luke stated.
“Ohhhh, is poor Lukey afraid he is gonna put on the pounds?” Ryan teased.
“You’re just jealous because you know I’m better looking than you,” Luke jabbed back.
They made me laugh for the next hour as they took shots at each other. I let out a loud yawn covering my mouth and shaking my head.
“Ugh. That snuck up on me,” I admitted, wiping at my watering eyes.
“Let's get the bed set up so you can get some sleep,” Luke said as stood and sat his empty beer bottle on the table then turned and ran up the stairs.
“I think he’s in a hurry.” Ryan tipped his bottle back and drained it. He winked, then took off after Luke. I followed, still drinking my second beer. When I got to the doorway, Ryan had the mattress over his head and was pretending to use it as a weight set. Luke was shaking his head.
“You're going to hit the fan,” he warned and shook his head before putting the last base bar into the wood frame. He lifted the box spring easily and laid it on the frame. Ryan slid my mattress on top of it and then hopped on the bed.
“Bouncy!” He smiled as he pushed and bounced on my bed. I slapped his arm and ordered him off.
“Get out!” I said playfully.
“Fine,” he pouted and stomped jokingly out of the room.
“You want help putting the sheets and stuff on?” Luke asked.
“Nah, I’ll get it, but thank you.”
“Okay, I'll see you around.” He started toward the door.
“Luke, wait.” I took a few steps in his direction. “I really can't thank you guys enough for helping me.”
“It's what we small town folks do,” he winked and tipped his head then walked down the stairs.
I called a thank you down to Ryan and flopped on the bed with a smile thinking about Luke’s offer to help with the bed.
Chapter Nine
Luke
I have never wanted to be in a girl’s bedroom more than I wanted to be in hers, and for the first time it wasn't just about sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Every male fiber of my being wanted to have sex with her. I'm fairly certain every man in a thirty-mile radius wanted to have sex with her. I closed her front door, making sure I had turned the lock before I walked over to my side.
“You are in sooo much trouble,” Ryan laughed as he sat back in the chair closest to my front door, rocking on the back legs.
“You're going to break my chair,” I said and reached for the screen door handle.
“You really, really like her. I thought it was just a sexual thing, but nooooo. You seriously like h
er.”
“She’s nice,” I shrugged and pulled the door open, disappearing into my house.
“Dude, she likes you too.” He let the chair fall and then walked in behind me.
“I doubt that very seriously. We have had exactly two,” I held up two fingers and shoved them toward him. “Two conversations that didn't involve shouting. She isn't into me like that.”
“Did you not notice how red her face got when you asked about the sheets?” Ryan cocked his head.
I had noticed, but I didn't think it was because of me. “No, not really. I figured it was because you had made yourself at home on her bed.”
“No, she expects that shit from me,” he admitted.
“It isn't like that, so stop trying to make it like that, okay?”
“Aye, Aye, captain. Whatever you say. Just don't miss something great while you're out here trying to prove me wrong.” He slapped me on the shoulder. “Put the rest of the beer in the fridge for the weekend, okay?” He pointed to the cooler. “I’ll see ya tomorrow. Think about what I said,” he added, and then I pushed him out the door and shut it.
“Be that way!” he called out before I heard his truck start up and then slowly grumble down the driveway.
I walked to fridge with the cooler and put all of the bottles in but one. I thought about how the warmth of her body felt when I had walked up behind her to place the pitcher for her. The memory of her flinching slightly when she felt me rippled through me. Knowing that I wanted her wasn't the issue. Figuring out how to want her was.
I’ve never been the kind to flaunt my sexuality, unlike Ryan. I wanted something with substance, something real. Unfortunately, most women treated me as if I were like Ryan. You’d think after all this time, they’d realize I’m not like him at all. Over the years, I’ve slept with a few, but my numbers were not even in the same ballpark as Ryan.
My phone rang as I shut the door to the fridge. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. Ryan.
“Hello?”
“Dude, if you don't try to figure out how to make that girl yours—” I hung up on him.
He immediately called back, and I sent it to voicemail. It rang again and again until I answered.
“Seriously man, are you a fifteen-year-old girl?” I huffed into the phone.
“Nope, but you are acting like a twelve-year-old boy who really likes a girl. The only thing you haven't done is hit her or throw rocks at her.”
“What’s your point?” I dropped into my leather chair throwing my legs up on the ottoman.
“That you’re stupid. Like really, really stupid. That girl is ripe for the picking, and you're so in your head about everything that you can’t even see it. I get the competition schedule is hard and you’re all focused and shit, and I know you’re gonna say it has caused trouble in the past, but this girl... this girl isn't the same kind of girl. She is made to compliment you. I just don't want you to miss something that may be the best thing for you, is all.”
“When exactly did you grow a vagina?” I laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. I love ya, man. You’re my brother, and ya know it. I just want what's best for you.”
“Says the one that has never had a real relationship?”
“I guess I'm not good at those, but you are. What I’m good at is cutting some wood. What time are we leaving Wednesday?”
“Six.”
“Okay. I’ll let this go. For now. See ya in the morning.”
Popping a top on the bottle I pulled from the fridge, I leaned my head on the back of the chair and thought about what Ryan had said. Shaking my head, I finished the beer, got up, and tossed it on the recycling bin in the kitchen. Then, I climbed the stairs and headed to bed.
***
I stretched my arms over my head peaking my eyes open to the darkness outside. It was just after five a.m., and I needed to get that table finished before Ryan got here around nine. I’d gotten the news a few days before that the furniture company decided to hold off on a contract until after competition season when I was in a place I could produce several pieces a month for them. I only hoped they didn’t change their minds between now and then.
I got dressed, made my way to the kitchen, drank my protein shake quickly, and headed out to the shop. I’d been there about fifteen minutes when I was interrupted.
“Are you flippin’ serious right now?” she said from the doorway.
“What?” I asked pulling the ear plugs from my ears and looking over my shoulder.
“It's five thirty in the morning, Luke!”
“I only had the sander going. It’s not really that loud,” I replied.
“Yes. It is.”
“You must have very sensitive hearing then,” I tried to come across as playful. She wasn’t buying it.
She pulled in a hard breath and blew it out. “I can handle the normal seven, but five thirty? Really?” Her hands pressed into her hips.
I stood there looking at her, wanting to smile, but I knew that probably wasn't the best thing to do. “I was just trying to finish this up before I have to leave Wednesday.” I pointed toward the piece I was working on.
“Ya know, I have tried really hard to deal with the noise. I am the quietest neighbor in the history of neighbors. It would do you some good to try a little of that.”
“I’m sorry?” I shrugged.
“I mean, between the seven a.m. wood working, the nine a.m. chainsaws and axes, and the one in the morning sexcapades, I think I have been pretty patient,” she barked. Her fists were by her side at this point, and she was vibrating. I mean literally vibrating where she stood. Her face was red, and it was as though she was trying to bore holes straight through me.
“I can't make up for what Ryan didn't tell you,” I snipped at her, getting irritated that she interrupted me while I was trying to finish.
“Ryan told me that you worked with wood and had a shop. He also said that it wasn't generally at the ass crack of dawn. So, if you don't mind, I would like to sleep a little more.”
“You will get all the sleep you need while we are gone. We are leaving out Wednesday and won't be back until Monday. I had planned on coming over later today just to give you a heads-up, but now you know. I'm sorry if you think the sander is loud, but I've got to finish this.” I turned back to the table, placing my ear plugs back in my ears and started working again.
I saw her reflection in the window as she stormed out of the shop.
***
“Yo!” Ryan yelled as he walked across the backyard.
“Give me five!” I shouted back. I was wrapping the last of the glass up and placing it in a shipping crate. The truck would be by tomorrow to pick it up.
“Your girl gave me a piece of her mind this morning,” I said as I walked over to him.
“What did you do?” He cut his eyes at me, turning slowly where he stood inspecting the wood in the cradle.
“What did I do? Seriously?”
“Umm, yeah. I swear you do anything you can to irritate her.”
“I was working, and she came stomping into the shop yelling at me that I was too loud.”
“What time was this?”
“I don't know? Five thirty or so?”
“I would have yelled at you too. Geez man, rude!”
“It's my house! Besides, it was just a sander. Not like I was using the chainsaw or anything.”
“It's our house, and now it’s hers, too. I know you have projects to finish and you work best in the early morning or late at night, but have you ever thought that maybe she would appreciate you not working at five in the fucking morning?”
I shook my head. I knew he was probably right. Maybe I should pay more attention to what is going on around me. I never had to before. Ryan could sleep through a hurricane, so no one ever complained. I just wasn't used to it.
“You’re right. I'll try, promise,” I said as I reached for my ax, looking over the blade. Running my fingers over it, I felt a small chip and flipped it
to look at the other side, making a mental note to sharpen it later.
“Are we gonna chip some wood, or are you gonna love on that blade a little more?” Ryan raised an eyebrow looking over at me.
I grumbled under my breath and took a step toward him.
“Watch that blade. Ya look like you want to hit me with it,” he grinned.
“Ya think?” I sat it on the log I would be working on and reached back to pull my shirt over my head. Dropping it to the ground, I hopped on the log and waited for Ryan to tell me to go. I stood there waiting, but he didn't say anything. I looked up to find him looking over my shoulder. When I turned, Emmy was standing there watching us, cup of coffee in her hand, hip against the railing.
“Mornin,’” Ryan waved at her. I wanted to punch him in the chest.
I nodded my head at her before turning back around. I watched Ryan walk around me and then over to her. They started to chat, and I just stood there. I knew I should walk over and say hi, but I felt like after she ripped me apart this morning, maybe that wasn't the best idea. Rocking back and forth, I went through my movements and practiced in my head. I thought about where my mistakes were and mentally tried to fix them. I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear them when they walked over. Ryan was saying something to her, but I was so lost in thought, I couldn't have told you what he was saying if my life had depended on it.
“Luke,” he said.
I kind of heard him, but I was in a daze.
“LUKE!” he shouted less than a foot from my face.
“WHAT?” I barked back.
He nodded in Emmy’s direction, and I pulled back when I saw her take a step away, clearly thinking I was barking at her.
“I'm sorry I yelled at you this morning. I deserved that.” She said quietly.
“No, that wasn't meant for you. It was meant for numbnuts,” I pointed at Ryan who had the nerve to smirk at me. I still wanted to hit him. That must be a record for the first twenty minutes of our day.