“More points to Brock for not losing his cool. If I were a man, Wesley would still be crawling around under your desk trying to find the rest of his teeth.” Kat formed a fist and punched it into the air like a prizefighter.
Brenna laughed. “Who needs a man around when you’ve got moves like that?”
“We both do and you know it.” Kat took Brenna by the arm and walked her to her car.
Thoughts of Kat and her fun-loving nature brought a smile to Brenna’s face the next morning as she parked at Brock’s house and started down the walk. Since it was a Saturday, she would join a few of his friends as they helped Brock work on his kitchen remodel project.
While the men installed new counter tops, she was going to paint the cupboard doors. Brock removed them from the cupboards and stripped off the old finish. He wanted to paint them white, seal them, and add new fixtures.
The cupboards themselves were in good shape so Brock sanded them down and painted them. He’d also painted the walls a buttery shade of yellow after dragging Brenna to the hardware store to look at paint samples. He asked her to pick out the color she liked best.
Quietly knocking at the front door before sticking her head inside, she listened as voices drifted down the hall from the kitchen. She recognized Mike’s pickup parked outside and thought the other pickup belonged to Jett.
In addition to bringing coffee for Brock’s workers, she also made pastry pockets filled with ham, eggs and cheese, and brought a plate of cookies for snacking on later.
When she walked into the kitchen carrying her box of coffee and food, Brock and his friends stopped what they were doing, stood at attention, and each held out a small card for Brenna’s inspection.
At the confused look on her face, the men broke out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, setting the box on the table and turning to look at the card Brock handed her. One of the guys had been busy with a computer graphic program creating personalized cards with bold lettering.
This Man Card belongs to:
Brock McCrae
Certifying membership into the Manly Man Club
Expiration Date: whenever Brenna says
She shook her head and glared at Brock, then at the rest of the men. “Nice, guys. Very nice.”
Brock kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. “They thought what you said to the driver was pretty funny, too.”
She blushed and smacked at his shoulder while Mike and Levi took the coffee and food out of the box.
“You truly are an angel, Brenna, despite what Brock says about you.” Mike kissed her cheek and jumped away before Brock could slug him. “Thank you for feeding us.”
“You’re welcome.” Flustered by their attention, not to mention the man-cards, Brenna turned to Brock and offered him a mock salute. “Point me to the paint, taskmaster, and I’ll get started on the cupboard doors.”
“I put them outside. It isn’t supposed to rain today. I thought that way you wouldn’t have to worry about making a mess or inhaling paint fumes.” Brock opened the kitchen door and walked her down the back steps to the yard. She took note of the cupboard doors resting across sawhorse tables, making it easy to access them.
Brock shook the paint can before opening it and giving it a good stir. As he handed her a brush, he lavished her with one of his charming smiles that made her knees wobble and her thoughts muddle. A spark flamed in her blue eyes and he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her neck then whispering in her ear. “I hope you don’t mind the teasing. Mike and Levi thought your comment was hilarious and Levi made the cards when he found out you’d be here today.”
“It is a little funny.” Brenna tried not to smile, but the amusement in her eyes gave her away.
“More than a little, my feisty coffee girl,” Brock said. He looked back at the house to see five faces staring back at him from the kitchen windows. Exasperated, he hauled Brenna around the corner to the side yard and kissed her with an intensity that made her drop the paintbrush and wind her arms around his neck.
He groaned and pulled her closer, inhaling her wonderful scent while losing himself in the kiss. Mindful if he didn’t stop, they’d soon have an audience, he melded their lips together in one more tempting kiss then let her go.
She quirked an eyebrow at him and grinned as he picked up the paintbrush and handed it to her. When she turned toward the cupboard doors, he popped her on the bottom before she moved back into view of the kitchen windows.
Whirling around, she shook the brush at him. “You better behave yourself, construction man, or you’ll be sorry.”
“I’ll be good.” Brock lifted his hands in the air in surrender. “Just don’t unleash that temper on me.”
Brenna grinned.
As Brock walked past her, he spoke in a voice so low she had to strain to hear him. “At least not right now.”
With a jaunty wave to the faces pressed against the kitchen windows, she turned back to her painting and focused on the project for the next several hours. She stopped once to use the bathroom and get a bottle of water from the fridge. The men were partially done with the counters and laughed at a joke Jett shared. When they noticed her listening, the conversation immediately died.
“Hey, Brenna, taking a break?” Levi asked from where he held onto one end of a large piece of granite while Mike and Brock worked it into place.
“Yes. I was thirsty,” she said, holding up the bottle of water. “Don’t stop your joke on my account, Jett. Please continue.”
“Oh, well, I was... it wasn’t that funny anyway.” Jett blushed under Brenna’s intense glare.
“Sure it was, man,” Ned said from the other end of the granite Levi held. “You were just getting to the part where she…”
“Told off the guys and stormed out of the restaurant,” Mike added, giving Ned a look that told him to be quiet and not argue about the substituted ending to the joke.
“I’m pretty sure that isn’t how the joke ends. Are you boys afraid I won’t find it funny?” Brenna enjoyed her ability to make the grown men squirm. She felt like a schoolteacher catching a group of naughty little boys about to play hooky. “Or are you scared I’ll figure out you’re really a bunch of knuckle-dragging cavedwellers under all that oozing charm?”
“Neither,” Brock said, giving her a wink. “Now quit harassing my crew so they can get back to work.”
“Yes, sir.” Brenna blew him a kiss then hurried out the kitchen door.
“You are in such trouble, dude,” Mike said, observing Brock as he watched Brenna return to her painting outside.
“Trouble?” Brock asked, tightening the screws holding the countertop to the cabinet base. “With Brenna? She’s just teasing.”
“We know that,” Mike said, doing some teasing of his own. “But you’ve got the look that says you’ve finally fallen in love and that, my friend, definitely means trouble. The next thing you know, we’ll be planting daisies and sending out engagement party invitations.”
Brock glared at him and went back to tightening the screws. His friends knew him too well and, darn it, they might just be enlisted to plant daisies and who knew what else before he claimed Brenna as his own.
Chapter Ten
Brock looked around his newly finished kitchen as he drank his second cup of coffee. The stone of the countertops looked good against the backdrop of the gleaming white cupboards and soft yellow walls.
His new appliances had arrived, also in white, and Brenna added simple yellow gingham valances above the windows to finish off the update. Mini-blinds offered privacy, should Brock feel the need to close them, but since the kitchen faced the backyard, he wasn’t worried about it.
Last night, he installed new light fixtures that glowed with a soft white light, completing the airy, welcoming look of the kitchen. The room caught the morning sun and from the table where he sat with his coffee and newspaper, he could look out at a beautiful view.
Brock could hardly wait to have Greg lands
cape the yard, but that project would wait a few weeks.
As he sat reflecting on his wisdom in purchasing the house, Brock heard an odd thumping noise outside. Quickly rising from the table, he looked out the window but didn’t see anything.
He returned to his chair, opened the newspaper, and read part of the sports section before hearing the noise again.
Quietly opening the kitchen door, he stood on the back porch and looked around, trying to locate the cause of the noise. He glanced out at the creek and thought he saw movement along the bank so he jogged down the steps and across the yard.
A bedraggled mutt sat in the mud with his head stuck in a plastic gallon jar.
Whining, the dog used one paw then the other, trying to push the jar off his head. When it didn’t budge, he shook his head viciously, rested a moment, and started over again. The jar thumped loudly as the dog’s head bumped the sides during a particularly violent shake.
“Hey, dog,” Brock said softly, walking up to the pathetic looking animal. “I won’t hurt you. Let me help you get that thing off your head. Just be a good dog and hold still.”
While he spoke, Brock placed a light hand on the dog’s back. It jumped at first and started to bolt, but as Brock talked to it and kept his hand moving gently along its back, the dog stilled.
“Okay, dog, I’m going to see if I can pull this off. When I do, you promise not to bite me. Is that a deal?” Brock carefully worked to pry the jar off the dog’s head. There was probably a good story about how the dog got his head stuck in the jar in the first place.
By the protruding ribs and starved appearance, the animal was most likely digging through someone’s garbage trying to lick whatever remnants of food he could find from the jar.
With one final, firm tug, the jar came off with a loud pop and the dog ran.
Brock watched it follow the creek around a bend and sighed. He hated to see an animal mistreated and that one looked like he’d been on his own for too long. It appeared to be a half-grown puppy with floppy ears, too-big feet, and long tail. Mottled brown and covered in filth, he wondered what the dog would look like clean.
He wished the animal would come back because he’d happily give it a home. Growing up, his parents could never be bothered with pets. They finally allowed him to have a hamster until Hank escaped from his cage and found refuge in his mother’s lingerie drawer. He never knew if the poor thing died of fright from his mother’s screams when she opened the drawer, or if she beat it to death, but the hamster was the first and last pet he’d owned.
There was no time or place to care for a pet when he lived in an apartment and stayed incredibly busy with work.
Now that he was a homeowner on a quiet street with a creek and trees coming right up to his backyard, he thought about getting a dog. By next week, he’d have a new fence across his front yard and it wouldn’t take much to bring it around the sides, enclosing the property for a pet or kids.
As he put the jar in his garbage can, he thought again of his dream of having a house with a wife and a dog. The dream came to him so frequently, he sometimes saw it in the day when he was working, not just at night when he closed his eyes. What he really wanted was to be able to see the face of the woman in his dream. Whenever he thought it was about to be revealed, he’d wake up and visions of Brenna would fill his head.
Thoughts of Brenna made him grin. He hoped to see her at the store today. Last Friday was her final day at the office and she mentioned she’d be spending more time helping Avery and Letty rearrange their spaces while they waited for him to finish construction on hers.
Avery’s flower and gift shop section as well as Letty’s portion of the store were finally completed. The project was taking much longer than it should due to a persnickety electrical inspector. He found fault with everything they did and made them redo things that were installed correctly the first time just because he could. If Brock didn’t know better, it seemed like the man had a personal vendetta against him, but he’d never met him before.
Maybe he’d pay a visit to Greg and see if he could shed some light on the subject since the inspector had mentioned being a good friend of the landscaper.
After waiting a moment to see if the dog would return, Brock returned inside, finished his coffee along with the sports section then left for Letty’s store. He arrived before his crew and soon was absorbed in his work.
At seven-thirty, when the rest of his guys arrived, Brock was already knee deep in that day’s project. The guys laughed and joked as they worked throughout the morning and when they stopped for lunch, they were in good spirits.
Brenna arrived bearing a platter full of hearty sandwiches and Brock took time to sit down and visit with her while he ate. She left a plate of cookies for his crew on a table in the corner along with a cooler full of soda and water bottles. She went upstairs to visit with Avery while the men returned to the business of creating her bistro space.
Back into the rhythm of his work after the lunch break, Brock looked up at the jingling bell on the door announcing a customer. Instead of someone interested in shopping, Brock held back a sigh as the inspector sauntered through the doors.
“Perfect, just perfect,” Brock muttered to himself as he walked over to the inspector. Mustering a friendly smile, he greeted the man. “Afternoon, Will. Anything we can help you with?”
“Not today. I’m here to see Brenna.” Will glanced around the store. When he found out Brenna was dating the construction guy, it made him see red. Will knew if he gave her enough time and space, she’d come to her senses and take him back, but he was getting tired of waiting. Now that she seemed infatuated with the brawny and charming Brock McCrae, Will was desperate to win her back.
Although it was wrong, he continued to hold up the project by making ridiculous demands, hoping Letty, Avery, and Brenna would think it was Brock’s shoddy work causing the problems. So far, they didn’t seem to be casting the blame for the delays at the construction guy and were instead looking at him.
“She’s with Avery.” Brock pointed up the stairs, disturbed by the possessive way Will said Brenna’s name. If Will knew to find her at the store it meant he was more than a casual acquaintance. Brock felt jealousy twist his gut and he struggled to keep it in check. Was Brenna dating someone else? Was she playing some kind of game with him?
Without saying a word, Will climbed the stairs. He was only gone a minute when Brock heard the thud of fast footfalls and glanced up as Brenna ran down the stairs with Will right behind her. Not stopping to say goodbye, she hustled out the door, slamming it in Will’s face. He wrenched it open and followed her.
Aware that he couldn’t fight Brenna’s battles for her, Brock remained inside the store. He lasted almost a minute before he hurried outside to make sure she was okay.
His gaze narrowed when he saw Will holding Brenna in his arms, kissing her fully on the mouth. Shocked, he stood rooted to the spot, overwhelmed with feelings of betrayal and anger. Determined to confront the lovers, he took a step that direction and watched as Brenna jerked away and swiped her hand across her mouth in disgust. Despite what he thought, Brenna was obviously not enjoying Will’s attentions.
In a few quick strides, Brock pushed Will away from Brenna, giving him a threatening look.
“I suggest you not do that again.” Brock eased Brenna behind him while glaring at the inspector. If things had been delayed before, Brock knew this wouldn’t help his cause any.
“Get out of my way.” Will tried to reach around Brock to grab Brenna’s arm.
Brock felt her hands on his waist as she moved with him, keeping out of Will’s reach.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Brock stepped to the side as he again blocked Will from Brenna. “What’s your problem, man?”
“My problem is that you seem to be chasing after my girl.” Will attempted to grab Brenna again.
“Your girl?” Brock growled out the question.
“Yes, my girl.” Will gl
ared at Brock with loathing in his eyes. “She’s been mine since she was sixteen.”
“You’re sure about that? You sure that’s what Brenna wants?” Brock experienced intense jealousy as a gnawing sense of worry began to eat away at him. He took a step closer to Will, muscles tensed and fists clenched.
“She belongs to me.” Will avoided a direct answer to the question, poking Brock in the chest.
“No, she’s mine.” Brock sounded every bit as possessive and childish as Will when he poked him back.
“’She’ is right here and perfectly capable of speaking for herself.” Brenna shoved between the two men acting more like preschoolers than adults. Their inane fight over which man she belonged to had made her boiling mad. She wasn’t a possession they could lay claim to or fight over. “I don’t belong to either of you, for your information, you idiots. You two are just… oh!”
Brenna stormed off down the street toward her car. Before either man could say anything, she drove away.
“You stay away from her,” Brock said in warning, as Will watched Brenna leave.
“Yeah, whatever.” Will gave him a shove then hurried toward his car.
Clenching his jaw until his teeth ached, Brock finally went back inside to work. At least he had a better idea of what the inspector didn’t like about him.
They were both in love with the same girl.
“They did what?” Avery asked when Brenna phoned her a while later to see if Brock had calmed down.
If she hadn’t been so angry with Will in the first place, then annoyed by both men talking about her like she was a pack of baseball cards they were going to fight over, she would have reassured Brock she held no interest in Will.
Once she arrived home and gave herself some time to cool down, Brenna realized she didn’t dispute Will’s claims. She worried that would only encourage him to continue hounding her while making Brock question her commitment to their relationship.
“They stood on the sidewalk and argued about which one I belonged to,” Brenna said with a disgusted sigh. “Both of them acted like complete idiots.”
The Coffee Girl Page 13