by Lane Martin
"I am not a sniffer," she pouted once the shirt was over her head. "You really are a dog." She tied the two pieces of the shirt she’d left hanging in a knot with more emphasis than was needed before sliding down the straps of her bra, so they weren't visible through the cutouts she had made at her neck. Annnd what do you know? It's still my favorite shirt. My jaw was on the floor as she stomped out of my trailer. I'm not sure who whined louder with her departure, Rascal or me. This woman was going to be trouble. She was Brody and Luke’s new music teacher for the rest of the year. That was it. No matter what my throbbing cock thought.
I joined the crew from the firehouse on the patio and watched Penny as she charmed Luke and Brody. Rascal sat at her feet the entire time. He was never this protective of Kara. She had let her hair down and was drinking a glass of wine while she giggled with Dylan and the girls. Gone was the uptight woman who had arrived. It was refreshing to see her relaxed.
"Wow, she's hot," Hitch said as he angled his bottle in Penny's direction. I emptied the bottle poised at my lips and then slammed the bottle down.
"I'd say she's also spoken for," Dix offered while slapping me on the shoulder. It was his way of telling me to take a chill pill. Although I hadn't known the guys for long compared to how long some of them had worked together, the bond we shared was like no other. Maybe it was a result of risking our lives together, or because we spent so much time together on shift. It was hard to explain. We were brothers, which meant we sometimes fought like them too.
"Sounds about right," Collins agreed while handing me a fresh bottle. I wasn't on duty the next day and I didn't have to drive anywhere, so I took it. I watched Penny as she ducked inside the studio.
Dylan stood in the center of the patio with Grady at her side and tried to get everyone's attention. Dixon whistled loudly and it went silent.
Grady addressed us, "Thanks, Dix. We want to thank everyone for coming today and to say how much we appreciate everyone who helped us on this project." Grady lifted a bottle in our direction. He didn’t need to thank us, helping each other was what we did. We had each other’s backs. It didn’t matter if we were running into a burning building or needed an extra pair of hands on a project. The oath we took, Not for Self, extended into all aspects of our lives.
"Yeah, thank you, everyone," Dylan added. "Now we have a special guest today who has agreed to play a couple of songs. Please help us welcome our new music teacher and world-renowned violinist, Penelope Anderson." Say what? Penny stepped out of the recording studio, violin in hand. She lifted her instrument and smiled as she began to play. The song was immediately recognizable, and Dylan began to sing the lyrics to “House of the Rising Sun” as I stood and watched like everyone else, mesmerized by Penny and her incredible talent.
Everyone started singing about letting it go when she began the second song. I thought about the word she had used earlier with so much disdain, perfect, and I couldn't help but wonder if it didn't have something to do with her amazing gift.
Brody watched Penny in awe and I was so grateful she was here. As a firefighting community we were committed to doing anything we could to put a smile like the one he wore on his face as often as we could.
Chapter Five
PENNY
T hank God for the kids. They were the only thing that had kept me from running. I had been exhausted by the time I’d gotten back to my brand-new home for the first time three nights ago. Yes, I had seen pictures; I had known it needed lots of work. I was excited to put my skills to the test. Okay, I was hoping picking up a hammer would be like picking up a violin and come naturally to me. Home renovation looked easy enough on television. Right? My parents had argued that I was being ridiculous when I’d explained I planned on flipping a house while I was in Sunnyville. My father had reminded me multiple times that watching every do-it-yourself flipping show didn’t make me an expert. Mom was convinced I would come running home in under a week. Dad called the insurance agent and asked about injury to my hands caused by power tools. I didn't find any of it amusing; the sad thing was, they hadn’t been kidding. They had so little faith in me. Weren't parents supposed to be supportive of their children?
Some parents were. I had seen it in person at the elementary school all week. All the parents, especially Shelby, wanted nothing but the best for their kids. I had been at the school that morning, but had since returned to my stinky house. No, I wasn't talking about the ugly wall colors and terrible Formica countertops. I was talking about the actual smell. It was wretched.
I’d brought an inflatable air mattress and bedding with me since I didn't own a single piece of furniture. I’d convinced myself it would be like camping—something else I had never done—only I would have hot water and electricity. Except I didn't have either of those when I’d arrived at the dark house. Nobody had told me I had to have the gas and power turned on in my name. It ended up the shows I spent so much time watching never showed the critical parts on television. I added Flipping for Dummies to my list of things to buy, along with the batteries I needed to blow up my air mattress, the one I couldn't inflate, considering I had no power. Maybe Mom and Dad were right. I’d tried to sleep on the floor, but the smell of the carpet was horrific. Air fresheners and scented candles were also added to my list. At five in the morning, I gave up on the idea of sleep and headed to Better Buzz. Coffee was the only hope for help I had. Part of me was tempted to book a room at The Cottages, but that would be a victory for the people who doubted me. Nothing about my arrival had gone the way I had planned.
I sipped on my coffee and my body buzzed to life before the caffeine even hit my system as I recalled my first day here. I had already felt out of place when I’d gotten to the party, and then I got Rascaled. Again! Of course, I couldn't think about Rascal without thinking about his owner, Carson St. James, with his mesmerizing amber eyes and chiseled jaw covered in scruff. I didn’t know why, but I longed to touch it. Don't even get me started on his muscles and those delicious veins in his arms. When he lifted me and put me over his shoulder like I didn't weigh an ounce, it made me melt. Let’s not forget about his tight ass. I had gotten a close-up view of it and it was delectable. I couldn’t tell you how tempted I was to slap his sexy a—..., er, butt. Ugh, merely thinking about him was infuriating. I wasn't there to fall for somebody. I was there to stand on my own two feet and do what I wanted to do for possibly the first time in my life.
I found my contractor, Gabe, while searching online at Better Buzz. It was my first time on a site called Craigslist. I could have asked my new friends for recommendations, but I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t get things done on my own. I’d never known about the site before; it had listings for everything! I was excited to finally be meeting up with him.
My power and gas had been switched on. My house smelled a little better, but it was going to take more than scented candles and air fresheners to fix the problem. Pulling out all the carpet and treating the walls and floors were at the top of my to-do list. If our meeting went well, Gabe would help with the larger projects, primarily the kitchen and bathrooms. I had quickly learned sleeping on an air mattress wasn't as fun as I’d thought it would be. No matter how much air I put in it, I always seemed to wake-up with my butt on the floor every morning. I was in desperate need of a good night's sleep.
With my pink tool belt I ordered online hitched around my waist, I decided there was no time like the present to get started with the remodel I had planned. I opened the front door so Gabe would know to walk in because I was worried I wouldn't hear him over the noise. My hammer was poised back to make the first hit when I heard one word.
"Freeze."
I dropped my tool and it landed on the floor with a thud that was almost as loud as my scream. Almost. Carson St. James stood in my entryway. He held a dry-cleaning bag in one hand, and inside the clear plastic bag I could see my once mud-stained shirt had been restored to its original condition. He hung the bag on the doorknob before stomping towa
rd me. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Penelope?" He put both of his hands on top of his head. His ripped biceps were one hell of a distraction, one I didn't need. I had kids to teach and a house to make livable.
"What's your problem, Saint?" I was being rude, but I was too tired to deal with his macho bullshit right now. I bent to pick up my hammer, thankful if hadn’t landed on my foot.
He remained in the doorway. "Well, Penelope, I think I walked in on you about to do something very foolish."
"Are you calling me stupid?" I turned to face him with the hammer in my hand. I was tempted to lift it again, his thick skull as my target.
"Well, yeah. First off, you left your front door wide open. Anyone could have walked in on you." I shrugged. He was right, but of course, I wouldn't admit it to him. It didn't seem like Sunnyville was a hotbed of illegal activity, plus Gabe was going to be arriving any second. "You were also about to put a hammer through your drywall."
I rolled my eyes at him. I was sick of having to explain every single decision I made to other people. "Well, yeah. I need to tear this wall out to create the open floorplan I'm going for. Wait a second, how did you even know where to find me?"
After the shirt incident, I hadn't spoken to Carson again before leaving the party. That's not to say I hadn’t been aware of every move he’d made the remainder of the night. He watched me too. I caught him looking at me a few times. When he’d touched me inside his trailer, I had to move away. It wasn't because I hadn’t liked his touch—quite the opposite. He might have only touched my arm, but I felt it everywhere. I would be surprised if he couldn’t hear my heart beating, since it had felt like it was about to thump right out of my chest. When he’d dropped his hand, I had to grip mine together so I didn't reach out to touch him again. When he’d asked me which shirt I wanted, I had been tempted to ask him for the one off his back.
"Dylan told me." I hope he gave her the safety lecture about giving out my address too. "I assume you have the proper permits and had an electrician remove the wiring." Well, sh—, er, shoot. I looked back at the wall I was about to demolish. It had an electrical outlet and a light switch. I hadn’t even thought about switching off the breaker first. "Yeah, I thought so." That was why I didn't play poker; my face gave me away. "Not to mention, this might be a load-bearing wall." Ugh. Why did the smug bastard have to be right?
"Who are you, Bob the Builder?" His sexy lips twitched in amusement as I pouted. I wanted to kiss the smirk right off his face. No. No. No. I don't have time for distractions.
"Would that make you Wendy?" Carson questioned as he pointed at my tool belt. How did he even know the name of Bob's sidekick? "God, I loved that show when I was a kid." he added as if he could read my thoughts. "You're not Wendy; she knew what she was doing." Ouch.
"Hello. Are you Penny?" A man snuck his head around Carson's broad shoulders. Thank God.
"I am, and you must be Gabe." Carson stepped further into the house and eyed my contractor suspiciously as I shook hands with the man. "Thank you for coming." I was lucky I found him. Many of the school staff had been surprised to hear I had located a contractor who was available to start so quickly. Everyone in town was booked solid for months. None of them knew of Gabe's work, but I planned on asking him for references today. Maybe he was new to town as well. The man was older; I placed him in his early forties. He had a rounded belly and a fake-looking mustache. It creeped me out, but he was the only option I had found.
"I'm Carson." Gabe looked between us before shaking his hand. I swear Carson, who was already big, got even larger. His voice had a hard edge to it I couldn't understand.
"He was just leaving," I added to put Gabe at ease and to tell Carson it was time for him to go before remembering my manners. "Thank you for bringing my shirt back and for having it cleaned. I'll see you around."
"I'd love to hear what you have planned for the place and to see what Gabe here thinks." He tilted his head at the man.
"That's not necessary." I insisted as I blinked my eyes several times in disbelief. What was he playing at? I couldn't afford to lose Gabe. I needed him to get started as soon as possible.
"I'm not going anywhere, Wendy." Carson grinned. Jerk.
"I thought your name was Penny?" Gabe scratched his head as he tried to figure out what was going on as Carson whistled Bob's theme song. Oh brother.
"Thanks, Gabe. We'll get back to you by tomorrow." Carson showed Gabe out my door after plucking his business card from his hand. Once he closed the door behind Gabe, he leaned back against it and looked at me. I hoped he could see exactly how pissed off I was. Carson had followed behind as I showed Gabe what my plans were for the house. He hadn't said an actual word, but rather, had grunted his disapproval numerous times, guffawed at multiple suggestions from Gabe, and hmmed several times. What the heck did hmm even mean? It was infuriating!
"We'll, as in we?" Who did Carson St. James think he was? I hadn’t invited him there, and I certainly didn't ask for his opinion. I didn't need his approval, or anyone's for that matter.
"You're not calling that guy, Penny." Oh, I’m Penny again. I wish this guy would make up his mind.
"You don't get to tell me what to do, Saint!" He cringed at the way I exclaimed his name. I hadn't missed the way he reacted to it when I said it in my normal voice at the party. I knew he liked it by the look on his face, especially in his eyes.
"That guy is a crook. Trust me on this, Penelope." As much as I didn't want to admit it, Gabe had kind of given me the heebie-jeebies. Plus, I was too tired to continue arguing with him.
"Ugh, you are just as much trouble as your dog. I need a contractor. I can't live here like this." I lifted my arms and motioned at the room around us. "Where am I going to find another contractor?" I flopped into the camping chair I had purchased the night before from the local Walmart. It had been my first trip to the big box store. Ever. Now I knew firsthand why the store had video compilations dedicated to its shoppers. Those videos could not be unseen. I didn’t think it was an experience I would ever forget. "Maybe I should give up now and go home," I mumbled more to myself than him with my hands buried in my face.
"I'll do it," Carson offered as he kneeled down before me in the chair, so we were eye-to-eye.
"What?" I lifted my head so fast I almost knocked him on his butt.
"I'll do the remodel. I'll move my trailer here tonight. Rascal will like the pool," Carson teased. The pool was currently pea soup green.
"Are you serious?" I couldn't believe what he was saying. When Dylan had given me the tour of her recording studio, she’d told me Grady and Carson were responsible for building it. She couldn't sing enough praises of Carson's work. Even Grady admitted the project wouldn't have been possible without Carson. It was impressive.
"Completely and I don't make commitments I can't keep, Penelope Anderson." Lord almighty, was it hot in there?
Chapter Six
CARSON
Heading out?" Grady asked as I raised the jacks keeping my trailer level.
“Um, yeah. Penelope needs some help with renovations over at her place." Some? Ha. I tried to act casual. The crew at the station was still talking about the way I went all caveman on Penny at the party.
He started helping me by disconnecting the waterline while I disconnected the power. "Look, Carson, you don't need to explain yourself to me of all people. Shit, I was only doing a favor for Dylan's brother when I told him she could stay here." He called you Carson. You're so screwed.
"It's not like that," I replied. He raised a brow in question. "Look, I was at her place when the douche contractor she was going to hire came by. The guy was a hack. I don’t even think he was licensed. She was desperate, but I couldn't stand back and let the guy take advantage of the beautiful lady." Shit, why did I add anything about her looks? That wouldn’t help my case.
"Uh huh." Grady didn't sound like he was convinced. "You keep telling yourself that and let me know how it works out for you." He said his
piece and kept helping me out.
"She was going to leave town if she didn't find someone who could start right away. But she can’t leave; Brody needs her. Did you see the way he watched her play? He couldn't take his eyes off her." Okay, in my head I knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere. She had a contract with the school district to teach music classes until the end of the year, but I didn’t need him or anyone talking shit about my reasons for moving over to her place in a single beat. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. I didn’t care what anyone thought. I just couldn’t figure out what the hell I was doing so I was using her need for a contractor as an excuse.
"I'm surprised you noticed. From what I witnessed, you were the one who couldn't take his eyes off her. I heard she bought the eyesore on Santa Fe." If we were women, he still would have been talking about me staring at Penny. Instead, he let it go and guided me as I backed up my truck to the hitch.
I opened my passenger side door and whistled for Rascal, "Load up, boy." He jumped in the truck, excited to go for a ride. Grady and I didn't need a long goodbye. It wasn't like we weren't going to see each other later when we both went on shift. I offered a farewell to Dylan before she left for the store. I'm not sure if she cried because she was going to miss me or because she was thrilled I was going to Penny's. It could have been a little of both. It also could have been due to hormones. Pregnant women were hard to figure out.
"Thanks for your help. I couldn't have done it without you. Let me know what you need over at Penny's," Grady offered.
"First, I need Bowie to take a look at a wall she wants to tear out and pull some permits." I was pretty sure the wall could come down. I had checked the joist before I’d left, but I wanted Bowie's opinion before moving ahead with the plan. He was our structural engineering expert, and I trusted his judgment without question. While Penny's eye for design was great, she needed a reality check on execution. I’d heard hundreds of horror stories from my dad about people who took on home improvement projects only to learn they had bitten off more than they could chew. He made a lot of money fixing other people's screw-ups. Don't even get me started on unlicensed contractors. Hell, I didn't even like calling that slimeball Gabe that. At best, he was a handyman. I knew Gabe was crooked the second I saw him. When Penny said she didn't have a budget, his eyes lit up. Her budget, or lack thereof, was something else we were going to talk about. Setting a budget would save her time, money, and problems in the long run.