by Stacy Finz
“Someone will buy it eventually. If not, I’ll rent it out,” he said.
She told him which turn to take and a short time later they pulled up in front of the hardware store. It looked small from the outside, but inside the shop was crammed full of merchandise. Aidan thought it had as much stuff as a Home Depot. A clerk told them where to find the window air-conditioners.
“There’s been a real run on ’em,” he said, and Aidan hung back to talk to the old guy for a while. As long as he was new to the area, he wanted to get to know people.
Dana left them to their conversation, which started with the weather and took a quick detour to the best places in the region to fish. Aidan needed to get a license and thought about going to Lake Davis over the weekend. Brady had taken him there when he’d visited in February and he’d fallen in love with the lake in the woods.
Eventually, he broke away to explore the store. He found Dana in the storage aisle, eyeing a closet organizer. No shock there. In a short time, he’d figured out that she liked everything in its place. It was part of that anal retentive thing she had going.
“You getting that?”
“I was thinking about it. It seems like it would be pretty useful.”
The thing, with its various shelves and hanger rods, seemed stupid to him, like it would wind up giving her less space than just leaving the closet the way it was. But he kept his mouth shut.
“I don’t know what the measurements of the closet are, though.” She stood there chewing her bottom lip, reading the information on the box over and over again.
“It’s a standard reach-in closet. Eight feet wide, thirty inches deep. It’ll work . . . if you really want it.”
“I definitely want it. Are you sure, though? I mean, how do you know the closet is standard?”
“I’m a firefighter. We know stuff like that.”
She looked at him to see if he was joking. He wasn’t; firefighters really did know stuff like that. They practically lived and breathed blueprints. It was not only crucial to know how a building was laid out for fighting a fire but paramount in a rescue situation.
“I’ll get a cart,” he said.
By the time he returned, she’d dragged the box off the shelf. He hefted it onto the flat cart and they headed to the air-conditioner aisle. They had a couple of different models.
“I suppose you know the size of our windows too?”
“Yep.” He chose the ones that said they would cool up to a 250-square-foot room and loaded three onto the cart. “This should do us.”
On the way to the cash register a big display of rafts and other water toys caught his eye. Aidan was pretty taken with the River Run, a fancy inner tube that had armrests, a headrest, and compartments to hold his beer. He grabbed one and threw it on the cart. Dana hitched her brows.
“What? You want one too? I’ll get it for you.” He reached for a second box, but Dana put her hand on his arm.
“No thanks.”
Then he remembered about her brother and felt like an imbecile. “Ah, hell, Dana, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that,” she said. “I just prefer swimming in a pool to floating in the river.”
“Okay. You ready to go, then?”
“I am. But I’m paying for my own air conditioner.”
“Nah, I’ve got it covered. It’s the least I can do after you did all the heavy lifting on the move.”
She started to squabble with him, but he threw his credit card down. After she paid for her closet organizer, they headed to the door. That was when a little boy about three or four emerged from the paint aisle, sobbing his head off.
Aidan scooped him up and asked, “Hey, little guy, what’s the matter?”
The kid, now eye level with Aidan, stopped crying and just peered at him. Aidan looked around for a parent but didn’t see a soul.
“You lost, fellow?”
The boy didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at Aidan like he was an alien. At least the kid didn’t talk to strangers.
“I’ll search the store,” Dana said and started walking up and down the aisles.
A few minutes later, the clerk grunted something and nudged his head at the glass door.
“Ah, Jesus,” Aidan muttered, and then quickly shut his mouth. “Is that your mom out there?” He brought the child closer to the window and pointed to a woman standing by a pickup on her cell phone, clearly engrossed in a conversation.
“Mama, Mama!” the boy shrieked.
“Hey, Dana, we found her,” Aidan called.
“Where?” She trotted back and followed the direction of his eye roll.
With one hand, he wheeled the cart, and with the other he carried the boy outside. The woman looked up, held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, and waggled her hands to take the child into her arms without even breaking a sentence. As Aidan loaded their purchases into the back of his Expedition, he could still hear her complaining about her boss or whoever she was bitching about.
“Can you believe that?” Dana said as they drove away.
“I wonder if she even noticed he was missing?” He shook his head. His old man would’ve chewed the woman’s head off, but what was the point? There was no changing a person that self-absorbed.
When they got home Aidan took the air-conditioning units into the house. “You see my tools?”
“I put them in the garage,” Dana said. “You want me to get them?”
“I’ll get ’em.” He found the heavy metal box easily enough on one of Tawny’s many shelves. Christ, Dana had even organized the garage.
He brought the whole thing into the house and got to work installing the first unit in the living room, securing the brackets to the window’s metal frame. Within ten minutes he had the air conditioner up and running.
He stood in front of it, letting the cold air wash over him. “Ah.”
Dana laughed. He liked the sound of it. Throaty and genuine. He didn’t figure her for a giggler, which was good because he didn’t much like gigglers.
“Next,” he said, and grabbed the toolbox with one hand and the second box with the other, heading to Dana’s room.
She opened the door for him, and again he noticed how neat and perfect everything was. He got the unit installed in no time flat and turned it on. Then he headed to his own room, Dana trailing behind him with the last unit. The truth was, he was fading fast and was gonna need to sleep soon. So of course to spite him, the air conditioner gave him all kinds of problems. After messing with it for what seemed like forever, he finally got the metal screws into the frame, adjusted the height of the unit just right, plugged in the sucker, and let it rip. The cooler blew out a steady stream of cold air. Yep, now he’d sleep well.
“Would you mind terribly carrying in my closet organizer and lending me your tools?” Dana asked.
“I’ll do it for you in the morning, Dana, but I’ve got to sleep now.”
“I can do it myself.”
Having a sister who would shoot anyone who challenged her self-sufficiency, he knew better than to insist. “Okay. I’ll bring it in for you.”
He went out to the truck and lugged the large box into her room. Then went back to his room for the toolbox and returned. “There you go.”
“’Night, Aidan. Thanks for the air conditioner.” She stood in front of it for a few seconds just like he had. The only difference was, it blew her dress up. He enjoyed watching her frantically pull it back down.
In his room, he quickly stripped and got under the covers. A few minutes later he realized he didn’t have curtains, and the late afternoon sun was streaming through his windows. Shit. Tomorrow he’d have to get blackout shades. Given his schedule, he often slept during the daytime. In the meantime, he pulled the blanket over his head and shut his eyes. He slipped off to sleep only to be awakened by a loud crashing and a litany of curses that would’ve done a dock worker proud.
“Make it go away,” he muttered, and prayed that if he stayed under t
he covers long enough, Dana would give up and stop making noise.
But ten minutes later it sounded like she’d driven an eighteen-wheeler into the wall. “No rest for the weary,” he said out loud, threw the blanket off, and put his clothes back on.
When he entered her room, she sat in a pile of parts with her face in her hands. She had changed into yoga pants, and was putting the damn closet organizer in—backward.
“Here, give me that.” He took the hammer from her. Apparently, she thought she could beat the organizer into submission. “Get all this stuff out of the way.”
The mess was probably sending her into a tizzy. The bed was already piled with clothes, a couple of handbags, and shoes. For a woman who’d lost everything in a fire just days ago, she sure had a lot of crap.
“No, I can do it. You go back to bed.”
He fixed her with a look that said Who can sleep with all this racket?
When he started dissembling the pieces, she shouted, “What are you doing?”
“You did it wrong.”
“No, I didn’t. I read the instructions.”
“Well, that was your first mistake.” He demonstrated how the shelves were on the wrong side.
“Oh,” she said, like it was a giant revelation that shelves should face out, not in.
“First you put the tracks in, then you add the rest of this stuff.” He looked down at the rods, racks, and shelves that were now strewn across the floor.
“That’s not what it said in the directions.”
He picked the instructions up, crumpled them into a ball, and tossed them into her white wicker waste basket. For a second he thought her head would explode.
Then he found his drill and deftly screwed the tracks into the wall. For the next hour he built her a closet organizer that rivaled the one on the box, using scraps of lumber he’d found in the garage.
“You want shoe racks down here?” He was trying to use every inch of space.
“That would be great.” She sat cross-legged on the floor, handing him tools from time to time.
He trudged back out to the garage to see what he could find, returning with a couple of shelves that already had lips on them. Tawny must’ve used them for her boots. Aidan attached them to the back of the closet at an angle for easy access. In the process of scrounging, he’d also come across a few spare hooks and screwed them into the only wall space left. Dana could use them to hang belts, scarves, or whatever.
He gathered up his tools and sent Dana after a broom and a dustpan. She took over the cleaning and then he watched as she gleefully hung up her clothes, organizing each piece by color.
“This is even better than my old closet. Thank you, Aidan. Seriously, this is a dream.”
He watched some more as she carefully selected which shoes should go where, deliberating over every choice. Honestly, he’d never seen a woman happier in his life. And for some bizarre reason he found it endearing. It must be sleep deprivation, he told himself.
“You think you could let me go to bed now?”
She turned to him and nodded. “I’m sorry. Yes, of course, go sleep. And thank you so much for doing this.”
For a second he thought she was going to hug him. But he got the sense that Dana wasn’t terribly demonstrative. Maybe if he was a file cabinet or a spice rack she’d really let her emotions flow.
Still, he fell asleep with the image of her lining up her handbags in perfect straight rows and a smile on his lips.
Chapter 6
When Dana woke up the next morning Aidan was still asleep. She crept around the house as quietly as she could, getting ready for a breakfast meeting at the Ponderosa with Pat and Colin. The insurance people were ready to write her a check and she wanted to make sure the money would cover the rebuild.
She knew what homes sold for in the neighborhood, but estimating construction costs was better left to the experts. Hopefully, she’d have enough to build the two-story house Pat and Colin envisioned. Wouldn’t that be something?
Afterward, Dana planned to preview a few places for her new client, who she was itching to tell someone about but couldn’t. Not after she’d signed the nondisclosure agreement. Dana had explained to the client that as soon as someone in Nugget recognized her, word would get out. She’d understood but didn’t want Dana going to the tabloids with financial information and personal details. Clearly she’d already been burned.
And if the tabloids were to be believed, this particular celebrity had financial problems, which made Dana wonder why she was real estate shopping. When she’d asked about her price range, the client had been vague.
“Just show me proprieties that are between twenty and sixty acres with a home,” she’d said.
That described more than half the listings in the county. Dana opened her closet and chose a scarf from the new hook Aidan had put in for her. Then she stepped back to admire the orderliness of it all. The neat rows of shelves, the adjustable hanging baskets, and the convenient shoe racks. Aidan had done a remarkable job.
Handy. Good-looking. Nice to small children. As far as she could tell, Aidan McBride was Mr. Perfect.
“What are you looking at?” Speak of the devil. Mr. Perfect stood in her bedroom doorway shirtless, his jeans only halfway buttoned and with a bad case of bedhead. Still, the disheveled look seemed to work for him.
“My closet. You sleep well?”
“Yeah. I would’ve slept longer but the sun woke me up. Where can I get shades for the windows?”
“Reno. Bed Bath and Beyond. You want directions?”
“I’ll find it. Where you off to?” He eyed her suit.
“To meet my contractor and, after, work.”
“You have any coffee?”
“It’s on my top shelf, right-hand side, in front of the Quaker Oats. Help yourself.”
“Thanks. I’ll replace it as soon as I go to the store.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go.”
“Have a nice day,” he said and headed toward the bathroom. A few seconds later she heard the water running.
She went outside and the hot air hit like a furnace. Only nine and it was already a boiler. Shrugging out of her blazer, she hung it on a hanger in the backseat and cranked up the air conditioner. The one Aidan had installed in her room worked like a dream.
She drove the short distance to the square and found a parking space right in front of the Ponderosa. Pat and Colin were already holding a seat for her. Griffin was eating a big plate of waffles at the bar. She pretended not to see him and headed straight for her party’s table. It was immature and horribly unprofessional, considering he was her most important client . . . but he’d dumped her for Lina Shepard. She was entitled.
Pat waved over a server to take her order, pulled out a chair, and graced her with a warm smile. He was a nice man.
“How you make out with the insurance folks?”
“Pretty well, I think.” She gave him the figure they had given her and he nodded, pleased.
“We can bring it in for that. Look what Colin drew up for you.”
Colin unrolled a set of blueprints on the table and when the server came, he made room for Dana’s coffee. They ordered—she just got toast—and Colin proceeded to explain the elevations. She hadn’t expected drawings so soon and a tingle of excitement went through her.
“We’re hoping to save you the cost of an architect,” Pat said. “After you and Colin hash out the plan, we’ll get a structural engineer in to make sure it’ll work.”
“Sounds good,” she said, studying Colin’s sketches. They were very clear, making it easy for her to visualize the house. “I like them a lot. My only suggestion would be making the upstairs hallway smaller and giving some of that square footage to the second bedroom.” It seemed tiny to Dana.
“I can do that,” Colin said. “If we could get city approval, I could also give you a wood-burning fireplace in the master bedroom. If not, we could do gas.”
“Really? It wouldn’t send us over budget?”
Colin looked at Pat, who said, “Nah.”
She continued to scan the plans when the food came and paid particular attention to the kitchen. New kitchens added 83 percent of their cost to a home’s value. “Could we make the pantry bigger with those pull-out shelves?”
“Yeah, but it’ll eat into your breakfast nook.”
“Hmm, I see what you mean. Can I take these home and think about them for a few days?”
“Of course you can,” Pat said. “But the sooner we get them through city planning, the sooner we can start.”
“What’s going on with Lucky and Tawny’s house?”
“We’ll be doing the punch-out in a few weeks.” Pat put his napkin in his lap and started digging into his omelet.
“Wow. So I’m going to get a totally new home?”
“Yep.” Colin grinned and, like Pat, began eating his breakfast.
For the next half hour they talked about finishes, flooring, and appliances. By the time Dana made her way across the restaurant to the door, her head was swirling with color schemes, flooring materials, and window treatments. That was when a hand reached out and tugged her over to the bar.
“Those the plans for your rebuild?” Griffin asked and sipped his cup of coffee.
“Oh, hey, Griffin, I didn’t see you sitting there. They are.”
“I saw you, Colin, and Pat looking at ’em. What do you think?”
“I love what I’ve seen so far. They think they can double the square footage of my old house.”
“That’s great.” He sat there for a couple of minutes, looking as gorgeous as he always did. “You know I would make you a deal on any house you wanted in Sierra Heights, right?”
“It’s very generous of you, but I like where I live,” which was just far enough away from him to give her peace of mind.
“How’s it working out with Aidan? Grace told me you two were in the hardware store yesterday.”
Jeez, what was it, national news? “We needed some stuff for Tawny’s house.”
“So it’s going okay?”
“Couldn’t be better.” In fact, we have Tantric sex every night.