The cup of coffee almost slipped from her numb fingers as she watched him move about in his garden. Her eyes were burning as she stared and Carrie had to remind herself to blink. She was completely unaware of her mouth hanging open as her gaze took in the muscles packed onto his shoulders and back. The guy was…holy cow! He was buff!
“Ouch!” she hissed, looking down at her lap to find that she’d spilled coffee all over her lap. “Darn it!”
Standing up, she grabbed a dishtowel and wiped down her legs. She wasn’t wearing her normal baggy jeans because she was inside so the hot coffee stung her bare skin.
“Pull yourself together, Carrie!” she hissed, then purposely turned her back to the window and headed into her living room. She’d finished sanding down everything in this room as well as the family room and they both looked great!
She moved up the stairs, thinking to start on the staircase next. But as she pulled on her jeans and tee-shirt, ready to start the next project, she changed her mind. The front porch really needed those boards replaced. And it would make sense to replace the boards and sand everything down out there this morning, before the day got too hot. Yep, that was her new plan. Once it got too hot, she’d move inside to work on the stairs.
Twenty minutes later, she hauled the new boards she’d purchased the previous week out of the garage, setting up the tables so she could cut the new boards after she’d pulled up the old, worn out ones. She set up the handsaw and her goggles, pulled her hat down low over her hair, grabbed the crow bar and got to work. If she glanced over at her neighbor’s yard occasionally, well, that was just curiosity. Nothing else.
Using the crow bar, she pulled up one board after another, setting each of them beside the new boards. She’d just started on a particularly stubborn board when she felt a presence. Looking up, she found her neighbor, a tee shirt covering those amazing muscles now, coming towards her.
“Need some help?” he asked.
Carrie started to shake her head, wanting to tell him that she could handle it. But he walked over to the board and, with what looked like a flip of his thumb, had the stubborn board pulled up. With one gloved hand, he tossed the board onto the pile.
“Derick Matlock,” he said, pulling off his work glove and extending his hand to her.
“Jolene Smith,” she replied, telling him the name on the driver’s license she kept in her wallet. “I don’t…”
He didn’t even look at her as he pried up another board and tossed it onto the stack. “I know. You don’t need my help,” he interrupted, then went back to the porch and pried up the next rotted board. “I’ll just get these up for you. I’m bored and need the work out.”
Carrie watched as he used the crow bar with almost no effort, impressed by his strength. She really should tell him that she didn’t want his help but…she did. Which was stupid! Carrie knew that working by herself was safer.
But instead of telling him to leave her alone, she walked over to the saw and, picking up one of the boards, measured and cut it on the line she’d made. When that was done, she did the next and the next.
Derick…she really liked that name. It suited him. Once all of the old boards were pulled up, and done in a fraction of the time it would have taken her, he laid the newly cut boards in place. Grabbing her nail gun, he popped each of the boards into place.
The whole time, she watched the man, sneaking peeks at his flexing muscles and rugged, handsome features, amazed and more than slightly mesmerized by the rippling muscles on his back and arms. But whenever he looked over at her, she was quick to look down again, turning her attention to measuring and cutting the boards.
It took less than two hours to get the porch finished. She’d planned on it taking all day, with only a few hours of working inside while she worked on the stairs. So it was a shock to find it all finished so quickly.
“Thank you,” she told him, glancing up into his dark eyes before quickly looking away. “It’s much easier with two people working.”
“What color are you going to paint the house?” he asked.
Carrie looked up at the building and shrugged. “I haven’t thought about the exterior yet. That comes a bit later in the process for me.”
“Where did you live before here?”
Carrie looked away. That was a question she wasn’t going to answer. No way! “Um…well, thank you for your help, Derick. I really appreciate it.”
With that, she picked up the saw and…and it was taken out of her hands. “Where do you want this?” he asked.
It was really heavy, but she didn’t want his help. She could handle this work on her own. “I can put it away.”
He lifted it out of reach when she tried to take it from him. “I know that you can handle it. But it’s heavy and you’re tired. So, why don’t you just tell me where I should put it,” he paused, those firm lips quirking upwards slightly as if he were trying not to smile, “and don’t suggest up my ass. I doubt it would fit.”
Despite herself, she laughed outright. Especially since those words had been on the tip of her tongue. “Fine. In the garage please. That way I can lock my tools up at night.”
He walked over to the garage, placing it in the open space where she’d had it earlier. “How many houses have you flipped?”
Her heart thudded at that question. She glanced at him, startled that he was so perceptive. “Why do you think I flip houses?”
“Because you know enough about fixing up a house to save the exterior painting for last,” he replied. “Not many people do that. They want the curb appeal to happen fast and don’t like coming home to an ugly house.” He moved closer. “You’re skittish too. Which means you’re hiding from something.”
Carrie almost ran at his words. But she instead, she pulled herself up straighter, determined to face the truth. She was so sick of running. “I’m fine.” A lift of her chin reinforced her assertion.
“I can see that you’re very fine, Jolene. But I can help.”
Carrie crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m fine,” she told him again.
He sighed, looked over at her porch. “Right. You’re fine. So,” he paused, rubbing the back of his neck, “When you decide that you’re tired of being fine, let me know. I’m good at resolving problems.”
And with that, he walked back to his house.
Carrie watched him walk away, half of her admiring his tall, strong body. The other half craving the safety he offered.
Chapter 5
Carrie stared out the window, sipping her coffee and thinking about what Derick had said yesterday. “I’m good at resolving problems.” What did that mean? And didn’t he know that she was perfectly capable of solving her own problems? She was fine at it!
There was that word again. “Fine.”
Looking around, she saw the power tools she hadn’t put away last night after working on the staircase. Fine. She was fine, that was true. But did she really want to be just fine for the rest of her life? Did she really want to lose all of her power? Her dreams?
Carrie looked out the window again. The sun hadn’t come up yet, but there was a grey sky in the distance, indicating that the sun was close to starting the day. Carrie sipped again, but she didn’t taste the coffee. She didn’t feel the joyous burst of energy that she normally anticipated when she sipped her coffee.
Sighing, she closed her eyes. “I’m fine!” she whispered out loud.
And yet, she was sitting in a dark, mostly empty room with just a fabric bucket chair, sipping coffee out of her one mug and wearing a boring tee shirt to sleep in instead of something nicer. Sexier. She had dyed her hair black, hiding her normal strawberry blonde coloring and she wore nondescript, baggy clothes, no makeup and a baseball cap, just in case someone might notice and remember her.
Growing up, she’d dreamed about having a family and doing something with her life. Okay, so flipping houses was a lucrative job. But that’s all it was. It was a job, not a career. She liked the work, but she didn
’t love it. Granted, she truly loved bringing a house back to life and…perhaps she loved what she did. It might have been something she’d stumbled into, but she loved it.
So if her work wasn’t the problem, what was the problem?
Sex. Carrie chuckled as she snuggled into the chair a bit more. Yeah, she missed sex. A lot! It had been too long since she’d felt a man’s caress. Not that she’d loved sex all that much, but she really craved the human touch, the connection with a man. In her experience, sex was the only time that a man really touched. Other times, he was just too busy.
Granted, sex had become a bit…scary…towards the end of her marriage.
Carrie sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. “Stop it!” she muttered. Just because she’d finally found a man that she was interested in, that was no reason to put herself back in danger.
Standing up, she poured the rest of her coffee down the drain and looked around. “What to do now,” she whispered, resting her hands on her hips. “Probably getting dressed would be the best idea,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
Walking up the stairs, she padded barefoot to the room where she’d set up the air mattress and sleeping bag. No dresser. Instead, Carrie simply stacked her clothes against the wall. It was a bit desolate of an existence, she thought. “But I’m safe,” she said as she pulled on a pair of jeans and another baggy tee shirt, then pulled her hair back. Looking in the bathroom mirror, she cringed. “Time to dye again.” The strawberry blond roots were coming through.
Instead of worrying about that, she plopped a baseball cap onto her head and went in search of her work boots.
That’s when she saw her neighbor. Derick. His name echoed in her mind.
He was dressed this morning, she noticed with disappointment. And he had a determined look to his handsome, rough features. His black hair was a bit mussed, but that only made him look sexier. More rugged.
Parts of her body that Carrie had thought were long dead suddenly perked up again. “Down girl,” she muttered to herself. “Not for you.”
Why not?
Carrie was so startled by that question that her mind whirled. Shaking her head, she turned away from the image of her handsome, sexy neighbor taking a shovel from his shed, then disappearing into the garden to do…something. Carrie had never really grown anything other than grass, so she wasn’t sure what one needed to do to a garden. Weed it? But why would a shovel be required? Weren’t weeds small? Wouldn’t a shovel dig up more than just weeds?
Fascinated by all of the possibilities, she inched towards the window. He seemed to be touching each of the plants as he walked by, almost caressing them.
Would he touch her with the same gentleness? Would he caress her with…!
“Stop it!” she groaned, pressing her forehead against the wood window frame, her fingers clenching the wood to stop herself from…what? What would she do?
She peeked out the window again, her mouth watering when Derick reached down to touch a tomato that was ripening on the vine, holding the small fruit in his hands, examining it. His touch was gentle and tender. Careful not to hurt the ripening fruit.
“Stop it!” she whispered vehemently, wrapping her arms around her body as if she could somehow ward off the temptation of his gentle touch.
Instead of stopping, Derick stood up and took the shovel, disappearing behind the tall corn stalks. For a moment, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then a sharp stab of disappointment hit her and she groaned. “You’re being ridiculous!” Stomping into the bathroom, she grabbed her toothbrush.
“I should help him.” Carrie heard the words, felt them hanging in the air, anticipation thick. But she didn’t move, terrified suddenly of…? She grabbed the toothpaste and brushed her teeth, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of her thoughts.
And yet, she couldn’t seem to get it out of her mind. What was she afraid of? That he’d beat her? That he’d reject her offer of help?
“Damn it!” she whispered, and made a decision. She turned on her booted foot and headed out the door. “It’s the right thing to do!”
She yanked open the back door and forced herself down the steps, moving across her brown lawn to his green one.
“Good morning,” Carrie called out.
Derick appeared from behind the corn stalks, as if he’d been waiting for her. For a long moment, he didn’t say a word. They stood on opposite sides of his garden, staring at each other. Sizing each other up? She wasn’t sure, but for some reason, it felt…nice to have a male look at her.
“You helped me yesterday,” she announced, feeling a little off balance with the weight of his dark eyes on her. “I came to repay the favor.”
He continued to watch her and she felt a bit silly. Her baggy jeans and huge tee shirt hung on her narrow frame. He probably thought she was a vagabond. She wore cast-off clothes, drove a clunker of a pickup truck, and had bought a beat-up old house.
“You don’t have to look at me that way,” she told him, trying to hide her reaction. “I just want to reciprocate.”
That sounded…oddly sexual. Sure enough, his lips curled upwards slightly and his eyes lit up.
She shifted on her feet impatiently. “That wasn’t a sexual reference,” she told him with a small huff.
The guy shrugged, and finally looked away. “If you want to help, why don’t you tie up the tomatoes?”
Carrie looked over at the long line of tomatoes, many with heavy green or almost red fruit hanging from the seemingly delicate branches. “I can do that.” She shifted again, and squinted up at him. “How do I do that?” she asked, feeling foolish, but she’d never had the time for a garden. Although she really liked the idea. Thinking about walking out one’s back door in order to pick one’s salad ingredients seemed…thrilling!
Unfortunately, Carrie didn’t have the longevity for a garden. Oh, she might be able to plant one, but by the time the plants produced fruit, she’d be long gone. The longest she’d allowed herself to stay in one place was six months, and that had been a dangerous mistake.
“Jolene?”
Carrie jerked her attention towards Derick, lifting her eyebrows as her heart pounded heavily. How many times had he said her name? Darn it, that was a stupid mistake! A dangerous one!
“Sorry, I was lost in thought,” she told him. The look in his eyes warned her that he didn’t quite believe her.
He handed her a skein of twine and a pair of scissors. “You really don’t have to help me, Jolene.”
She smiled up at him. “I’d really love to learn more about gardening. I’ve never grown anything. Except basil. I had a basil plant one year. A long time ago. It was…well, I let it flower and then, I don’t know. I read that basil plants shouldn’t flower because it…” she tapered off, realizing that she was rambling. But darn it, he was close. Really close! And he smelled good. Like sunshine and soap. Yum!
He stared at her for another long moment and Carrie refused to fidget under his intent gaze. Fidgeting indicated that she had something to hide and Carrie had plenty of issues to hide, but letting him know that was a bad thing.
“So I just tie the tomatoes to the…,” she glanced at the plants, then up at him. “What? What do you want me to tie the fruit to?’
He looked down at the plants, then took the twine and cut off a piece. “You just tie the fruit to the metal cages so that the branches have more support.”
“Why do they need to be tied? The branches look strong.”
He looked at her, a mysterious expression in those dark eyes of his. “They aren’t. The fruit grows heavy as the sun ripens them. They gain sugar and that makes them heavier. The branches will break with the weight, which means not enough nutrients will reach the fruit, so they won’t fully ripen.” He carefully wrapped the twine and tied the knot so that the wire “cone” held up the fruit. “It also protects the tomatoes from the turtles.”
Derick stood and looked down at her, catching the startled blink. “Turtles?” she echoed, nonplus
sed.
“Sure. Turtles love tomatoes. They usually go for the smaller ones,” he explained, pointing to the cherry tomato plants on the next row. “But they’ll eat just about any tomato they can reach. They love ‘em.”
She smiled and it transformed her. Jolene, and he didn’t believe that was her name at that point, had a beautiful smile. And even a small dimple on one cheek. She’d looked pretty before, but her smile…it changed her entire face. She looked…excited? Yeah. Sexy and excited. Over tomatoes and turtles?
Shaking his head slightly, he moved away, putting some space between “Jolene” and himself. Why had she lied about her name? Derick moved over to the cucumber vines and started pruning, snipping off the blooms where there was already one fruit growing. The whole time, he contemplated the mystery that was “Jolene”.
Now that he saw her in the sunshine, she truly was a beautiful woman. But he’d already known that. Working with her yesterday, he realized that she might be slim, but she was strong. Stronger than any woman he’d ever met. And stubborn too! Damn, some of those boards had been nearly welded into the porch over time and weather. But she’d gotten every one of them up. It had been easier for him because he was stronger, and also because he was taller. He could get a better grip on the boards.
He admired the hell out of her, and the mystery surrounding her only intrigued him further.
He didn’t believe for a moment that she was a criminal. No, that didn’t make sense. She was a hard worker and, the criminals he knew took the easy route through life. And she was too generous. Coming over here today to help him, to pay him back for his efforts yesterday, wasn’t something a criminal would do.
Nope. The neighborly “Jolene” wasn’t a criminal. Not a chance.
So, who was she? He could find out easily enough. He could just ask Mike to run a check on her. They had the resources and databases in the office to find out just about anything on anyone. It was their job to gather as much data that they could before stepping into a dangerous situation, resolve the problem, then get out. In those situations, knowledge was essential. So, the Army had developed a database that most people didn’t know about.
Derick (Delta Forces Book 3) Page 2