“When is Emerson moving in?” I asked as we started down the driveway for our six-mile run.
“Should be any day now,” he replied. “I got the check for the first month and the security deposit almost a month ago. So, who knows. I started moving my stuff because I thought it was supposed to be earlier in the month. But hey, the whole is paid for so... whatever.”
He asked about my meeting and we talked about that and the competition a little during the remainder of the run. A little less than an hour later, we were walking back up the driveway, cooling down. Ryan reached the porch first and pulled the screen door open but let go and let it slam into me when he released it.
“Asshat,” I said as I pushed it back and moved into the kitchen for a bottle of water.
“That was payback for locking me out last week.” He yelled from the stairs as he ran to grab a shower.
As I sat at the table and looked over the competition series dates, I tried to figure out how many days per week I would actually have to build furniture once the season was in full swing. I guess I should have made it clear to Mr. Sharp that things would be a little slower once that started. Of course, they had to decide to pick up my products first.
Chapter Two
Emerson
I hated packing more than anything. I especially hated that I had to pack. Stupid political red tape was ruining my life. The grant I had busted my ass to get a few years before had been pulled, and that meant I had to move back toward home. It wasn’t a total tank, though. I was looking forward to being near my family in Portland again, and I was actually able to get on board with a research program only an hour away from the city. My grandfather had offered me a job at his environmental awareness company, but that meant more desk time than I wanted. I liked being in the woods and watching how trees and plants worked. I’ve always kind of been a nerd like that—an outdoorsy nerd.
The worst part about leaving the East Coast for the West was that I really hated leaving my best friend, Rachel. We’d been as close as sisters since we were thrown together as roommates our freshman year of college. After graduating, we leased a place together and have been inseparable. Well, aside from the time she was with her boyfriend.
I grabbed my backpack, swiveled around to take one more look at the apartment I’d called home for the last few years, took a deep breath, and turned to head out to where Rachel was waiting for me.
“I still can't believe you’re moving across the country,” Rachel signed as I placed my bag in the trunk of her car.
I looked over at her and smiled. “Just gives you a reason to come out and visit.”
“Damn straight it does,” she replied and opened her door to climb in. I shut the trunk and looked up at our condo as tears stung the back of my throat. I was going to miss this place.
The drive to the airport was filled with talk of how we were going to take turns visiting each other and how she fully expected me not to shirk my Maid of Honor duties just because I was over a thousand miles away. She was lecturing me on that when she pulled up to the curb at the drop-off area for my airline.
We hopped out and got my luggage from the trunk of her car.
“Okay, chica. I love you to pieces. Call me when you land.” She pulled me into a hug and then stepped away, tears building in her eyes.
“Don't cry! No crying! You’re gonna make me cry, dammit.” I reached for her again.
“I can't help it. You are moving and getting on with your life, and I'm just here waiting on Charlie to ask me to marry him.”
“Please! You know he’s going to. He’d be an idiot not to!” I assured her. Little did she know, he already had the ring. I helped him pick it out over a week ago. He had it all planned out, and I was excited for her. She and Charlie were great together.
I heaved my bag over my shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. “I'll see you soon.” I winked at her and watched as a tear fell down her cheek. I had to turn away so I wasn't a blubbering mess on the plane. As much as I hated it, the timing was kind of perfect. I knew she was going to be getting married, so I didn't feel as bad about leaving her as I would have otherwise.
Working with the evergreens in Maine and the diseases that were killing hundred-year-old trees had been a blessing and godsend, but the powers that be apparently didn’t think what I was doing was worth the money they were shelling out; thus, my grant was pulled after three years. My original plan was to be an arborist, but during college, I realized I was more interested in the research. I wanted to know why trees grew where they did and how they got there. I also wanted to figure out how to stop deforestation by seeking alternative resources. When I was little, my grandfather used to take me out into the woods and teach me all about the forest, and I grew to love it. I owe so much to him. He’s the reason I am who I am, in many ways, not just my career choice.
I placed my bag in the overhead compartment and settled into my window seat, wondering if my things would be there on schedule. Moving in early spring meant the chances of snow may slow down the moving truck's progress, but Ryan, the guy I was renting from, assured me that he would leave some basic necessities there for me until mine arrived—meaning he was leaving a bed in the extra bedroom that he wasn’t going to need at his new place.
Ryan and I had talked a good bit over the past month. He had been super helpful and willing to rent his duplex on a month by month basis. He did tell me that his friend owned the other half and that he would probably buy him out within the year, making sure I was aware that this wasn’t long-term. I had agreed because long-term wasn’t my plan. I grew up a West Coast girl, but I loved Maine and all it had to offer. I intended to move back there some day. Plus, I was leaving my best friend, and it sucked. My eyes were still a bit puffy from crying over our last bottle of wine the night before and staying up way too late, but it was worth it.
I settled in as the plane taxied toward the runway, thankful I’d been able to get a non-stop flight out of Boston. What I needed was a nap. So, I took one.
***
Once I was able to disembark from the plane, I found the truck my grandfather made arrangements for me to have since I sold mine knowing I needed something better for the area I’d be in. I hadn’t expected a brand-new truck waiting for me, but Granddad said he wanted to make sure I had something reliable. He was always looking out for me. He apologized profusely for not being able to meet me, but there were only a few times a year that he and my grandmother went on vacation, and this had been one of them. They’d had it planned for months. He had mailed me a set of keys and driven the truck to the airport when they took their flight out to the Caribbean.
When I located the truck, shoved my bags in the back seat of the extended cab, and set on my way, I considered stopping in to see my mother before heading out of the city, but the truth was, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to visit with her. I just wanted to get out to my new place and settle in.
I smiled the majority of the hour drive as I took in the landscape. The miles of green trees in every direction made my heart happy and reminded me why I did what I did.
When I chose to go to college on the East Coast, Granddad insisted we take a month-long road trip across the country to get there. He wanted me to see the diverse areas of the country and how different the landscapes were from one region to the next. He said it would make me better at my career. What it did was make me appreciate the woods even more. The first time I saw Los Angeles, my heart hurt. I didn’t understand how anyone would want to live somewhere with so few trees. But I also got to see some of the most beautiful sites in the country—the Redwood Forest, the Grand Canyon, moss laden trees in Savannah, and Niagara Falls to name a few. It was a fantastic adventure.
When I hit the town, Ryan had told me was the last stop before I made it to the farmhouse, I decided to stop into the small grocery store and pick up a few things. Thirty minutes later, I was turning onto a dirt path covered by a tunnel of trees. It was gorgeous. The truck bucked and jum
ped as the tires dipped into the ruts and holes along the path.
The large farmhouse finally came into view, and I noticed two trucks parked in the driveway. One was a sleek black Chevy that had been polished to a shine; the other was a white truck lifted up on slightly bigger tires—the kind needed to get back into fields and forests without getting stuck. It was probably used for work. A few dents and dings told the story.
I chuckled to myself at the joke that my grandmother had made in Texas about big trucks: something must be small, her voice floated through my head. My smile widened as I put the truck in park and opened the door. I recognized Ryan as he walked out onto the porch. He was a little taller than I had envisioned and a bit more on the built side than I had expected after seeing his Facebook photos, but he was just as attractive as he had been when we’d Skyped to discuss the house. My eyes, however, were glued to the man walking behind him.
Chapter Three
Luke
“That’s a girl,” I stated quietly as I grabbed the screen door he’d let fall shut in my face—again.
“Yeah, it is,” Ryan chuckled. “Can’t put anything past you.”
“You know I never would have agreed with this had I known it was a girl,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Yup,” he laughed. “I am fully aware. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Come on, she’s pretty awesome. I promise. From her emails, Facebook, and the Skype conversation we had, I don’t think she’s a serial killer disguised as a the soon-to-be girl next door.” I watched him as he made his way over to the truck. I stood on the porch and watched the exchange.
“Hey, Emmy! Glad you made here without having to call,” he said and extended his hand toward her. She took it and smiled up at him. She wasn’t a short woman, but Ryan seemed to tower over her with his six-foot-one frame.
“Me too!” She smiled and let go of his hand looking over the house. “It's beautiful here. The trees are amazing.” I followed her eyes as they traced over the tall oaks that straddled the edge of the property.
“Yeah, they have been here as long as I can remember,” Ryan said as he took a small bag from her hand. “I left a bed and loveseat, also my small table with two chairs. I hope that will get you through until your stuff arrives. When is that again?”
“It should be here in a few days. I have my fingers crossed,” she laughed as she followed him, carrying a few grocery bags.
“That’s Luke. He’s the strong, silent type,” Ryan laughed.
“Hi, Luke.” She tipped her head at me with a smile that almost knocked me over.
I waved back and responded, “Hi,” though I doubt she heard me as softly as it came out.
“Hey, Luke, grab those other bags from her back seat, would ya?” Ryan called out as he led her in through the front door.
I scooped up the bags from the truck and carried them inside and upstairs to the room with the bed in it. One of the bags was full of folders and a laptop. I tried to read the tabs across the tops of the folders until I heard their footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Thanks for bringing those up for me,” she said as she moved closer to me.
“Anytime. If you ever need anything, let me know.” I dropped my eyes and caught sight of the slight curve of her breasts and the way the yoga pants she was wearing hugged curves that should be illegal. When my gaze met hers again, her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was giving me a look that screamed “My eyes are up here, buddy.”
“Yeah, I'm gonna go,” I muttered and turned to head down the stairs. “Ryan and I will help ya move your furniture when it comes,” I said as I turned to take one more look at her before averting my eyes to the floor.
“I think I can take care of it, but I appreciate it.” Her tone wasn't harsh, but it held a touch of indignation.
“Okay, well if you do need anything, just let me know.” I said without looking at her. When I hit the bottom step, Ryan was standing there grinning like a damn fool. I wanted to punch him. No, I wanted to beat him to a pulp.
He called up to let Emmy know we were leaving and that I’d be next door if she needed anything—not him. Me. She said goodbye, and I made a beeline for the door.
“She’s cute, right?” He said once we were outside.
“Yeah, but I know what you’re thinking and... No.” I cut my eyes at him.
“Oh, come on. You have been out of the game too long, my friend. I mean, when is the last time you got laid? Maybe you'll cut some seconds off your time if you get a little of this pent-up sexual frustration out of your system.” He slapped me on the back.
“I am fine, and I don't need a damn woman making me crazy.” I whisper-shouted.
“Uh, huh,” he chuckled, cutting me a look. “That's what we all say until we are balls deep,” he said through his laughter.
I meant it. The last thing I needed was to be distracted by some hot chick. I had been there and done that. I didn't need distractions, especially now.
“I have seriously got to work on finishing this table I started. You gonna help?” I asked him as he was wiping the tears from his face.
“Umm, no. I’m gonna go find Candy and get sweaty. You have fun with the table, and maybe your new neighbor, and I'll see ya bright and early for practice,” he turned and climbed into his shiny black truck and left.
***
I worked for several hours on the table I’d started a few days before. My thoughts kept drifting back to my new neighbor. I tried to focus on the music blaring through my headphones, and before I realized it, darkness had settled outside the windows of my shop. I was about to begin staining the piece I’d been working on when I felt a hard tap on my shoulder. I turned to find the stunning brunette with her arms once more crossed over her chest, glaring at me in a way I was beginning to think I should get used to.
She shouted something I couldn’t make out as I was pulling my headphones from my ears.
“What?” I asked, unsure of what she’d said.
“One in the morning,” she repeated.
“It is?” I didn't know what else to say. She was standing there in a tank top and a tiny pair of shorts that were barely more than what a bathing suit would have covered. My eyes wandered over her body again, and her arms adjusted upward to cover her chest more as if she just realized what she was wearing.
“I have been listening to you work out here for hours, and it is very distracting. I really need to get some sleep.”
“I’m almost done?” I said, though it came across more like a question.
She huffed. “Ryan said you had a shop, but I figured you worked during the day like a normal person.”
“I work whenever I can.” I turned away from her, blood rushing hot through my body at the sight of her.
“Fine. Whatever. But can you please just try to keep it down?” she huffed and turned to walk away.
“Yes ma’am,” I responded as I looked over my shoulder at her form disappearing into the darkness of the doorway. I turned and pulled the piece I was working on from the machine. If I could finish this project tonight, it would be three thousand dollars in my pocket tomorrow and I could pay the mortgage for the next three months. With competition season starting, I needed to get as far ahead on my bills as possible, one less thing to worry about. Unfortunately, visions of my new neighbor in her tank top were now keeping me from staying focused. I guess turnabout is fair play. This was going to take longer than I thought.
Chapter Four
Emerson
Holy hell that man was hot. It took everything in me not to look him over like he was a hot fudge sundae after a year of dieting. The last thing I expected when I went out to ask him to keep it down was him standing in the workshop without a shirt on, specks of sawdust clinging to his skin. I had never been much of a beard girl, but there was something about the contrast of the dark hair against his tanned skin that made me tingle all over. His deep blue-gray gaze had followed the curves of my body and then came back to look me in t
he eyes. At that point, I had tried to cover my chest, knowing that my nipples stood at attention. It was chilly out, but it was the look he had given me that caused the reaction.
I was infuriated when I walked out of my door, but when I laid eyes on him, I could see that he was honestly just working. Ryan had told me there was a workshop, but I guess I hadn't understood that it meant chainsaws and other equipment being used at all hours of the night. Maybe I was a little cranky because I was exhausted. After all, I was too tired to even realize that I had stomped out of the house practically in my underwear. What a sight I must have been shouting at him with my hair pulled up on top of my head, pieces flying everywhere, a tank top, and my tiny pajama shorts.
He had started working again before I even made it back to my door. That had made it even worse. He didn't even care that I needed to sleep. I laid in bed and listened to him working for another half an hour before I heard the machines turn off. I listened quietly, praying that they wouldn't start again. The squeak of his screen door opening and then closing let me know that he was done, and I rolled over and closed my eyes finally able to get some sleep.
***
“What in the hell?” I rolled over in bed at the sound of wood being chopped and looked at my phone; it was just after seven a.m. for heaven’s sake. I heard shouting and chopping and then more shouting. I walked over and pulled my curtain to the side and saw him again, with no shirt on again, pulling an ax over his back and swinging it down into the wood while Ryan stood by. He repeated this action over and over before turning toward me and starting over. I watched in horror as he cut through the large piece of wood.
“Great! I moved next door to a tree murderer. Not only does he kill trees to make furniture, he also cuts them up for sport.” I said aloud. I watched for a few more minutes as he moved from that piece to another, and then he and Ryan worked together to pull a large saw through a piece. I finally walked away in disgust and headed to the shower. I turned the water on, got in, and stood there, thinking that maybe I should have just taken the job my grandfather had offered in Portland. But the research was important to me and I wanted to do something on my own, so here I was. I was just going to have to deal with the new neighbor. I dressed quickly and walked down the stairs wishing I’d thought to buy some instant coffee at the grocery store the night before. The last thing I wanted to do was ask the wood slaughterer next door to borrow some coffee, so I began pulling at cabinets that I knew were likely bare. To my surprise, I came across a bag of coffee, a singular mug, and a coffee maker.
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