Write Me Home

by Crystal Walton

  What was he hiding? She rolled the sides of the paper in and out while chewing on her lip. Regardless, she’d made a deal. Not to mention she couldn’t pass up his quality of work. As long as he respected her as the boss, it’d be fine. She handed over the contract. “I’d like a signed copy before you officially start, please.”

  He nodded, dimples sinking in. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She diverted her focus from his smile to the motorcycle. “Is it supposed to smell like that?”

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” He set his bag on the gravel, stashed the contract in his back pocket, and opened the gate to the trailer. “It has an oil leak. I haven’t had time to work on it.”

  Because he was a mechanic, too. Naturally. She pressed her back into the truck’s warm panel and glanced from the bike to his topless Jeep. “You got something against walls being around you when you drive?”

  His gaze dropped to his boot, tapping against the tire. “I don’t like to be closed in.”

  There was a surprise.

  Ti and the guys strolled up, coffee mugs in hand. She dipped her delicate shoulder into Ethan’s ridiculously muscled one. “When are we going for a ride?”

  “Not until I make sure she won’t break down.”

  “That takes all the fun out of it.” Her smile peeked around the rim of her mug.

  Sanders let his gaze roam over her the same way most guys did. Briggs popped him in the chest, handed off his mug, and helped Ethan unload the bike. He checked his watch. “Time to roll.” He tipped his hat toward Ti and Cass one more time before loading back into the driver’s seat. “Thanks for the coffee. And hey, keep an eye on this stud for me, will ya?”

  You better believe it. Cass nodded. A sideways glance caught Ethan smiling as if reading her thoughts. She darted her gaze from his and pulled her sleeves down.

  Ti waved as the truck pulled away. Once it rounded the bend, she lowered onto her heels. “For a second there, I thought we actually had some peeps to hang out with.” She turned toward Ethan. “Know anyone who actually lives around here?”

  He polished a spot on the bike’s gas tank with the bottom of his T-shirt. “Unfortunately.”

  A bark from the tree line drew all their attention up the hill toward the world’s shabbiest dog trotting straight for them. Cass skirted behind Ethan without thinking. He squared his broad shoulders, and she had to force herself not to grab on to them.

  Not that she needed the protection. The dog went straight for Ti. She squatted and rubbed his scruffy cheeks, squealing as he licked her face. “Is he not the most adorable thing ever? He looks just like the dog from Annie.”

  More like a twenty-year-old mop that hadn’t been cleaned a day in its life.

  “Where’d you come from, boy? You hungry?”

  Cass slid out from behind her barricade. “Uh-uh. Don’t even think about it, Ti.”

  “Aw, c’mon. Look at him. You can’t turn down this face.” She pulled his matted fur back with his ears.

  Laughing, Cass leaned over and scratched the top of his dirt-stained head. Why did animals have to be so darn cute? He licked her hands, and that was it. She caved. Ti knew as well as she did that she couldn’t turn away a stray. “Okay. But he stays outside.”

  Ti fluttered her fingertips together. “Hear that, Sandy?”

  “You’re not going to bust out in song, are you?” Cass grinned.

  “Very funny.” Ti rose to her feet and looked at Ethan, who’d conveniently stayed out of the conversation. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  Ethan patted his leg, and the dog scurried to him. He ruffled his long ears. “It’s probably not a bad idea to keep him around here. I mean, he’s not a Dalmatian or anything, but he’ll do.”

  His dimples were almost as maddening as his impish tone.

  Ti returned with her camera, shooting pictures on the way. She stopped beside them and scrolled through the frames. “Perfect. We’re gonna have so much fun this summer. I can already tell.”

  “Not if we don’t get some major work done first.” Something pressed into Cass’s back. She looked over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting to work.” He clicked his pen, shoved it in his pocket, and handed her the signed contract. “Where do we start?”

  At least they were on the same page. She motioned behind him. “You can start on the canteen. I haven’t been inside it yet, but if it’s as bad as the outside, it’s gonna need an overhaul. Assess any damage, take measurements, and get started on what you can. Make a list of needed materials, and I’ll pick them up on my next trip into town.” She peeked at the clock on her cell. “You can take lunch at noon.”

  He saluted her without saying a word.

  “Where do you want me?” Ti asked from behind her.

  “You can help me clean the mess hall, but leave Sandy with Ethan.” Someone had to watch him. Ti was probably right about Ethan DeLuca having a story to tell. One she couldn’t quite figure out. Whatever it was, Cass wasn’t about to be the punch line.

  He started toward the canteen at the same time she headed for the main building. In the kitchen, she poured a capful of bleach into a bucket of hot water, tossed a rag in, and swiped a pair of rubber gloves off the counter as she hauled it into the mess hall.

  Right behind her, Ti set her own bucket onto the bench at the next table over. “You don’t have to treat him like the hired help, you know.”

  “He is the hired help.” She pulled on the gloves and glanced toward a full-blown scowl staring back at her.

  “He’s a nice guy, Cass.”

  “I’m sure he is. That doesn’t mean I can trust him. He’s a Mets fan, for Pete’s sake.”

  Ti cracked a smile. “Hey, every man has his faults.”

  “Not sure that one’s recoverable.” They both laughed. Cass circled her rag across the tabletop. “Seriously, though, he’s not my friend. He’s a contractor. I’ve been in business long enough to have learned not to confuse the two.”

  “Business shmisness. This is about Jesse.”

  Hunched over the table, Cass froze. Bleach fumes singed her nostrils, the memory of what’d happened with her ex-boyfriend burning deeper. It was bad enough she couldn’t get away from him while home. His name was off limits here. Ti knew that. She balled the rag under her fingers and scrubbed the grime off the table. Why couldn’t all ties to him be as easy to erase?

  “I’m just sayin’. This isn’t Astoria.”

  Cass snorted. “I hate to break it to you, but the world works the same way regardless of where you are.”

  Ti washed the opposite end of her table. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but I think Ethan’s gonna prove you wrong.”

  “Just because you’re all cozy with lover boy doesn’t mean he’s different from any other guy.”

  “Not every guy’s a scumbag, Cass. And don’t worry. He’s not my type.”

  Cass dropped the rag. Seriously? She pushed her hair back with her arm. “So, you’re just making passes for sport?”

  Ti rounded the front of the table. “A girl’s gotta have some entertainment around here, remember?” Head tipped, she sighed. “Kidding. I was just trying to feel the guy out. It’s obvious he’s a keeper. You know I only go for ones with commitment issues.”

  “Ti—”

  “We’ve known each other since we were two. We’re a little past the saving face game.” She shrugged. “Things are the way they are.”

  Cass leaned a knee on the bench, her heart hitting the floor. “That doesn’t mean they have to stay that way.”

  “Look who’s talking.” Wringing out her rag, Ti winked at her. “Besides, the only male I plan to snuggle up with is Jax.”

  Cass arched a brow at her. “What about Sandy? Thought it was love at first sight.”

  “He’s adorable.” Ti scrunched her nose. “But the smell kind of overrides the cuteness factor.”

  “Oh, c’mon. He just needs a bath.”r />
  “Or twenty.” A ring from her cell phone clipped into her laugh. She withdrew it from her pocket and grimaced. “Speaking of losers . . .” She swiped the screen and wandered toward the other end of the room near the fireplace. “Hey, Murray.”

  Only two sentences in, and they were already arguing, from the sounds of it. Cass washed the corners of the table closest to the window. Peering toward the canteen, she slumped into the concrete wall. Some changes were too costly to hope for.

  chapter Five

  Walking Flames

  Ethan jotted down numbers on a pad and released the notch on the measuring tape. In front of the canteen, Sandy popped his head up as the tape zipped back in with a clink.

  “Sorry, boy.” Ethan grabbed the corners of his T-shirt, pulled it over his head, and wiped off the sweat dripping down his temple. Even with the giant wooden shutters propped open, it had to be a thousand degrees in this little snack shack.

  Bracing his palms against the counter, he jumped over the ledge and landed beside the dog. Sandy wobbled up to his feet, shook fur everywhere, and panted expectantly. He was definitely the scruffiest Otterhound he’d ever seen.

  Ethan knelt to detangle the dreadlocks blocking his eyes. “Trust me. You don’t want anything from in there. That candy’s got to be at least a year old.”

  A thud rippled from the mess hall and drew both their glances toward the unopened door. “I don’t think they want us in there, either.” At least, Red didn’t. He gave the dog’s shaggy ears one more rub and pushed up on his thighs to stand. “She sure knows how to put you in your place, doesn’t she?”

  Sandy closed his mouth and tilted his head.

  Ethan laughed. “Don’t worry. You can kick it with me. We boys gotta watch each other’s backs.”

  The dog lolled on the cement again and sank his chin over his paws.

  “I feel ya, bro.” Ethan loosened his neck. He hadn’t done this much construction work in a long time. The ache in his muscles felt good, though. Like the burn after a hard workout.

  Sanders’s comment from earlier wrangled another laugh out of him. Briggs out bench-pressing him? He shook his head. Not if Miss Drill Sergeant turned his summer into a giant CrossFit training. He stretched the tape measure up to the ceiling above the counter. Maybe missing drills at the station wouldn’t set him back, after all.

  Ti’s laugh rebounded off the hill. Ethan set his pencil on the notepad and peered over his shoulder. They must’ve opened one of the back doors. Another laugh rang from inside. This time, Cassidy’s. Huh. The girl knew how to laugh. Imagine that.

  He backed up to get a good view of the canteen’s roof. The water stain on the ceiling’s back corner didn’t bode well. His gaze traveled up the pine tree beside the shack. What were the chances he’d fall through rotten plywood if he climbed on top to check it out?

  A moment’s hesitation faded into a shrug. Only one way to find out. He jumped to reach the nearest branch and walked up the trunk until he had enough momentum to set his knee on the branch.

  How did a girl like Red end up being friends with someone like Treble . . . or Trina . . . or whatever her real name was? Okay, so she was a little out there, but she seemed like she knew how to have fun—something that obviously wasn’t in Cassidy’s vocabulary. And what was with her small town digs? He’d earned the right to call Haven’s Creek that if he wanted. Being from Queens didn’t make her high and mighty.

  He steadied his feet on a branch level with the roof. Rubbing the sap on his hands, he leaned against the trunk and tried to assess the extent of damage from this view. His cell rang right as he inched out. He grabbed the branch above him for balance and swiped the screen. Nonna. His pulse jumped. “Everything all right?”

  “Fine, dear. Just checking how your first day’s going. Don’t have a coronary just because you see my name flash on that fancy phone of yours.”

  He grinned. “So, you’re making heart jokes, now?”

  “You don’t get to be my age without having a sense of humor.” She laughed. “I’ve learned a lot in my thirty-five years.”

  Ethan pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek. “Thirty-five, huh?”

  She huffed. “Okay, fine. Give or take forty years, you big downer. You know, it’s a good thing you’re sticking around this summer. We’ve got major work to do. Starting with brushing up on your flattery skills.”

  A lot of good that’d do him here.

  An echo of the mess hall’s screen door closing shuddered toward him. Cassidy’s fiery red hair blazed from the patio. “Nonna, if you’re sure you’re all right, I gotta run before Ice Queen docks me for slacking on the job.”

  “Ethan James.” She rattled off a whole lecture in Italian, probably repeating the same scolding she’d given him on Friday after he’d first told her about Crazy Cat Woman.

  Squatting on the branch, he circled his eyes skyward. “Yeah, I know. Give her a chance.” It’d be nice if that worked both ways. “Listen, I’ll come by later tonight, okay?”

  “Only if you’re gonna let me have an espresso.”

  Persistence at its finest. “Love you, Nonna. See you soon. Ciao.” He maneuvered down the branches. Sandy flanked his side as soon as his boots hit the pavement. “You’re gonna be a buffer if I need it, right?”

  But rather than approach, Cassidy stayed on the patio, sweeping the concrete squares, one section at a time. The girl didn’t do anything without precision, did she?

  Ethan grabbed his T-shirt off the counter, slung it over his shoulder, and headed toward walking flames he had no clue how to tame. With the sun directly overhead, the day’s heat bore into his chest. Or maybe it was something about being around her. He stopped along the edge of the patio and clicked his boots together to knock the dirt off.

  She flicked a glance toward him and cast it right back to the ground, cheeks pink. “Do you always work half-naked?”

  His gaze ricocheted off her to his bare stomach. “Sorry.” He snagged his shirt from his shoulder and tugged it on but couldn’t lose his grin. “I’m used to working with a bunch of guys.”

  Was it just him, or was she sweeping hard enough to snap those bristles in half?

  Sandy pushed his wet snout up under his hand. Ethan rubbed his head while peering behind him at the shack. “It’s pretty bad.”

  Cassidy leaned on the broom handle and finally looked at him head-on. “What is?”

  “The canteen.” He crossed the cement and handed her his list. “But nothing that can’t be mended.”

  A hint of dejection touched her eyes as she read over the page. “Let’s hope the same can be said about the rest of the place.” Keeping her head down, she tucked the page into her pocket. “Thanks for this.” She set the broom against the wall and walked inside without saying anything else.

  He looked at Sandy and mirrored his curious expression. “Stay.”

  The dog trotted after him.

  Ethan turned, hand lifted. “Okay, we’ll have to work on that one. But take it from me. You don’t want to go in there.”

  Inside, a gust of bleach-scented fumes almost backed him through the door. At the opposite end, Ti struggled to push one of the collapsible tables against the wall. He jogged over to help. Folded in half, it butted into the cinder blocks with a thud. That must’ve been what he’d heard earlier. The concrete walls and low hanging ceiling made the perfect sound system for shooting the echo all the way out to the canteen.

  “Thanks.” Ti flexed her hands. “My arms are starting to get a little shaky.”

  For good reason. They’d cleared the entire mess hall, propping a table between each window. Those babies weren’t light.

  “We’re about to scrub the floor.”

  “Actually, can you do that?” Cassidy grabbed a bucket on her way past them. “I’m going to start on the shower hall instead.”

  “Sure you don’t wanna break for a quick breakfast first?”

  Red whisked the screen open. “Not hungry.” The
door fanned behind her.

  Ethan turned to Ti. “Why do I get the feeling she left because I came in?”

  She offered him an empathetic smile. “Give her time. She’ll warm up to you.” She hauled another bucket off the ground. “Trust issues.”

  There was the understatement of the year.

  She headed toward the kitchen, bucket swinging. “Want some coffee?”

  “A bottle of water, if you have any.” He had to have sweated out a gallon while in the canteen. The place probably hadn’t been aired out in a solid year.

  “Sure. Cass picked some up Fri—”

  The same scream he’d heard three days ago rang up the hill. His gaze met Ti’s right before they both sprinted outside.

  “Cass?” she yelled.

  Red bolted from the standalone bathhouse, doing the same flailing dance she had when he’d first met her. Squirming, she wiped off her clothes from every angle.

  Ti reached for her. “What’s going on?”

  “Roaches,” she eked out. “Like, hundreds of them.” She shuddered again.

  Ethan crept around the open-walled entryway, nudged the screen door with his foot, and jumped back against the cinder block. She wasn’t lying. Only a few patches of the dingy white walls peeked through a solid covering of roaches.

  Ti whirled around the corner, but he caught her at the waist and shook his head. “Trust me.” He redirected her to the side of the building.

  Cassidy tapped her forehead against the chipped stucco-coated wall. “They weren’t here yesterday. Where’d they all come from?” Spinning around, she caught his gaze. She blinked away but not before a twinge of helplessness in her eyes hit him in the chest.

  Who could blame her? He’d never seen an infestation this bad. Maybe if he fixed it, she’d be less stressed. Exhaling, he rolled a pinecone back and forth under his boot. “I can call an old friend, if you want. Jenni’s dad owns a pest control business.”

  The moment’s softness hardened over her face again. Unfolding her arms, she trudged up the hill past him. “I can take care of it myself.”

  No one said she couldn’t. Ethan arced a brow at Ti. “Trust issues, huh?”