“No,” he whispers, blowing softly at the shell.
“Get out of here,” I say, but the breathless rasp does nothing to defend the command.
“Not leaving,” he mutters, his nose tracing the shell.
“Step away from me.” My tone reaches a level I don’t recognize, and Jedd stills. He pulls back, meeting my eyes before he drops his hand.
“I’d never hurt you, Bee. Tell me you aren’t afraid of me.”
Afraid of him? He scares the crap out of me but not in the ways he’s thinking. He’d never physically cause me harm, of that I have no doubt. But my heart patters something fierce at his nearness, and my mouth goes dry. I might die of a heart attack or xerostomia, which I learned on television is a dry-mouth condition.
I ignore his question.
“Don’t suppose I can kick you out now that you have half a forest of wood lying in my field.”
“Now, Bee, don’t you be teasing me about laying my wood in your pasture.” He chuckles, stepping back to put more distance between us. Is he…flirting with me? He can’t be. He’s only trying to break the tension wound tight between us. However, my skin tingles without his touch, or perhaps it’s a reaction to his touch.
Do I like his touch?
I don’t want his touch.
GAH! I’m all over the place with this man.
A slow smile graces his mouth, and my eyes follow the curve. I lick my lips, no longer dry in the mouth but near foaming with hunger. He watches the movement, and his lips slowly part. His chest drags in a breath, and I find myself leaning forward until a loud slam from a truck door startles us apart. I pitch forward with the flinching start, and Jedd catches me by my upper arms. His smile deepens, and small lines by his eyes hint at something almost happening.
Was he going to kiss me?
“Jedd?” someone calls out in a deep male voice, and Jedd twists toward the sound before turning back to me.
“I have one more thing to say about the other night, and then I’m letting it go. Don’t ever compare me to Howard.” His eyes narrow. “And never doubt who’s turning my head. My eyes are only focused in one direction.” He pauses, emphasizing the glare he’s giving me.
I swallow, uncertain of what to say or if I can even speak.
“Now, come meet everyone,” he suggests, positioning his hand around my back but keeping some distance between us until I move forward and catch the foot of the crutch on a stone. His arm quickly wraps around my lower back, hand flattening on my belly. We hold still for a second, breathing in the proximity of each other as he steadies me. Warm air hits my exposed neck, and I tilt just the slightest bit as if offering him more skin. My heart races, but it’s from the nearness of him and not from the near fall. I inhale as if I’m taking a stabilizing breath when all I’m really doing is drowning in the fragrance of him. Fresh fields. Cut wood. All man. He smells good.
Then his foot slips between mine, rousing me from my thoughts. His inner thigh brushes mine, and with the slight bend of his knee, he nudges me forward.
“I got it,” I grit, winded from his support, his hands on me, and his scent. He doesn’t release me but holds our position until I bend to him. We take one step like a three-legged creature as if we’re joined at the hip, and I nervously chuckle at the awkwardness as the old idiom has new clarity.
“I know you got it, honey,” he states, and the confidence dripping from his voice tickles my ear. The rugged sound is like rumpled sheets and early mornings, and I turn to him to see his eyes are on my hair.
“I like this new look.” His hand travels up my back and fingers slip along the nape, delving upward and combing through the shorter locks. His fingers fist in a gentle tug, and oh my…my body reacts—breathtaking, thigh-clenching, blood-rushing—which seems to be a trend when I’m around him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he clears his throat, and I lick my lips again, wanting to lick his skin and feel the prickle of that stubble along my tongue.
What is wrong with me? I hate this man.
His fingers release my hair and lower for my hip.
“We should head to the field,” he says, his voice as rough as the gravel at our feet.
“You need to lay that wood.” My eyes leap to his, and he laughs, a good loud guffaw that tips him at the waist.
“Aww, Bee, you are something.”
With that, he nudges me forward. His fingers dig into my side just above my hip as he guides me—not pushing me, not forcing me, just supporting me, as if we can take all the time I need.
As we near the gathering of men, I notice a variety of ages among them. One man could be a relative of Jedd’s with his mostly gray hair, trimmed short but not as short as Jedd. When he turns to face me, I see there really isn’t a resemblance other than their stature. With thick stubble of salt and pepper and steel eyes, there’s something striking about the other man’s appearance, but his smile softens the potential sharpness, giving him a mischievous look.
Another man walks over, and instantly, I note he must be related to the first. They look almost identical in facial features minus the solid whiteness of the second man’s hair. Their eyes match in steel intensity, but the first gentleman is more playful than the other, who appears cautious.
“Beverly, meet Nathan Ryder and his brother, Todd.” Nathan Ryder. He’s leaner than his brother, and his smile grows with our introduction. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing as far as that grin goes because he’s the wayward man who slept with my sister and broke her heart. He disappeared without a call even though he promised her. Seems a common theme among the men Naomi and I attract. However, now he’s her man.
“Nathan.” I address him curtly, eyeing him with my best I know who you are and I know what you’ve done glare and adding in a dose of I will maim you if you hurt her again for good measure. Nathan chuckles, a hearty deep sound that makes my tummy rumble. He is exceptionally good looking. Softer in some ways compared to the ruggedness of Jedd, but still just as masculine.
“This is my brother, Todd. We call him Toad.” Todd knocks his brother on the back of the head like they are children instead of adults past forty. He reaches forward to shake my hand as well, grinning with a curt head nod. All the while, I notice Jedd maintains a possessive hand on my back, lingering as if he’s prepared to catch me if I start to lilt. His leg is outside mine, but his hip rests near me. If I thought about it too hard, we might look like a couple standing so close to one another, but we aren’t anything of the sort.
You’d like to be, wouldn’t you? my heart murmurs, but thoughts of coupling slam to a halt when I see Vernon Grady.
“Beverly,” he states, a million other things lingering within my name. I want to look away, but I glare at him instead just as I did with Nathan. He had been a friend, and then he was gone like all the other men in my life. Unreliable—which isn’t exactly true—but the sting lingers that Vernon disappeared from our lives. He had his own issues, though, his own family, and my eyes flip to the three young men beside him.
“Vernon.” He nods to acknowledge me and then turns to the boys in the field.
“Grizz, Kodi, Kerr. Y’all remember Mrs. Townsen, right?” If Vernon had kicked the crutches out from underneath me, I’d be less surprised than with the formality and label with which he addresses me. Seeing his sons, however, brings warmth to my insides. These boys occasionally came over and ran wild on my land. Each boy looks like his father in his own right, but mostly, it’s their size that marks them as his kin. Of course, there’s a hint of their mother as well in each of their eyes.
They greet me with awkward hugs, hesitating around the crutches, which prevent me from embracing them in return. If I lift my arms, I’d be holding onto them for dear life, and they’d have to pass me from brother to brother, which just doesn’t sound right. So I tap a few pats on their sides as they reach in for me before stepping back.
The last man is pointed out instead of introduced directly to me.
“That’s Big Poppy,” J
edd says, and I swallow back some air as the man turns to face me. He looks so much like the mystery man who helped me the night of the tub incident, but it couldn’t be, could it? The man has the same wild shaggy hair and thick bushy beard along with a large stature. The difference is my guardian angel wore a filthy long overcoat, making him look bulky compared to the more solid and slightly buff physique of Big Poppy. He tips his chin in silent acknowledgement from his position halfway across the field and then he turns back to eyeing the land.
“Well, I guess I better let y’all get to it,” I state, filling in the sudden silence as the Grady boys don’t know where to look, and Vernon stares directly at me. Nathan and Todd excuse themselves and walk back to a truck full of wood studs. There’s no sense in trying to argue with Jedd. A building’s going up on my land. I turn, and Jedd shifts with me, following me as I hike myself back down the drive.
“Beverly—” He begins as he scratches at the back of his neck, but I cut him off with, “I wanted to thank you for the flower.”
Jedd grins, cautious and curious. “Umm…while I probably should have sent you flowers as a way of apology, I didn’t.”
I stop, and Jedd takes a step before me.
“The sunflower on the back porch?” I prompt, thinking he might have simply forgotten such a small gesture.
“I’d like to take credit, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks puzzled as he glances back at the house as if he’s considering again that he should have sent me something because he’s definitely being honest in that he did not place a flower on my back steps. “Seems you have a secret admirer or maybe it was your Tripper fella.”
Right, Tripper. I bite my lip, holding back a giggle.
Jedd shifts his muscular body in my direction again and stares at me, taking a long moment to look at my hair and my eyes, then travel down my nose and land on my lips.
“What’re you looking at?” I snap, feeling stripped naked before him. My hair blows in the fall breeze, and my neck feels the whisper of the next season approaching. I shiver with the wind, but it’s really his appraisal causing the tremble.
“Just looking at you, Bee. Only you.”
Chapter Thirteen
[Beverly]
When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, only I don’t have any lemons, and a barn raising calls for lemonade. Staring into the fridge, I notice a gallon of apple cider, and I turn for the oven, deciding cookies and cider will be the best I can offer these men. It isn’t nearly enough. A barn raising is a party of sorts, and my mother raised me right, instilling a need for beverages when unsolicited visitors arrive. Being unsolicited, I shouldn’t offer Jedd and his friends anything, but a trickle of excitement runs down my spine.
When the stove beeps, signaling the necessary temperature, I hear the patter of heavy feet stomping down the stairs, reminding me of Hannah as a child when she knew I was baking a treat. My daughter stands just inside the kitchen, arms crossed, hair rumpled, with a scowl on her face.
“Momma, what are you doing?”
“We’ve got men raising a barn in our yard, and they need refreshments. I’m making cookies.”
“Momma, you can—”
The glare I give my daughter could melt a candle without a wick. I turn away from her as I hold the countertop and reach for the flour canister. She crosses the kitchen and leans her hip into the counter. With a thick sigh, she swipes a hand through her long hair, and I note her pajamas out the corner of my eye—a short pair of shorts and a sweatshirt.
Where did my baby girl in princess nightgowns go?
“Let me help you,” she offers, and I want to dismiss her, but a glance at her expression tells me she’s sincere in her attempt to work with me and not take over. We make cookies like we haven’t done in over fifteen years. Working side by side, we measure the ingredients, then roll the dough for sugary goodness in a variety of shapes. A Christmas tree. A pumpkin. The letter H.
“I’d forgotten we had these,” I mutter as my voice cracks with memories of long-gone holidays and birthdays.
“Yeah.” Hannah softly chuckles. “We should go through some of the old stuff in here,” she states, noting the kitchen is a catchall of unnecessary items. She places the first trays in the oven, then looks out the back door, spying on the builders in the field as we wait the nine minutes of baking time.
“Who’s out there?” she asks, hands cupping her eyes at the window in order to see better. I list off the men, but when I get to Grizzly Grady, her head snaps up. “Grizz?” Her attention returns to the window. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
Her dreamy faraway voice tells me something was once there for her regarding Grizzly. Does she still fancy him? Does she have a crush on someone? Does she ever go on dates? Has she given her heart to anyone?
“You should go say hello,” I suggest as her forehead rests on the glass pane, but she turns to me once again.
“I’m a mess,” she states, fingering her locks with one hand while looking down and tugging the hem of her sleep-sweatshirt. “Plus, I’m not even dressed.” Her eyes leap to the clock on the stove. “I have the lunch shift at the Front Porch today, so I need to shower.” The timer beeps on the cookies, and Hannah removes the two pans. Waiting the allotted time for cooling, she places the first dozen on the cooling rack. Then I spoon out another batch, and she sets the cookie sheets in the oven. Her eyes catch again on the clock.
“Go shower,” I say, sensing her need to prepare for work. “I got this.”
Her mouth opens, then closes, clamping her lips to prevent any unnecessary protests. “Are you sure?”
“I can do this,” I confidently state, but I’m not so certain when the buzzer beeps, and I struggle with the oven door, my braces knocking against the hot surface. I should have removed the crutches and balanced against the counter for support. As I lift the tray one-handed, my arm trembles, and I nearly miss the stovetop. I’m not as fortunate with the second batch, and the cookies slide from the pan, littering the floor.
“Dagnabbit,” I curse, allowing the oven door to slam shut and hearing a chuckle behind me. I turn to see Jedd standing inside the back door.
“Did you just say dagnabbit?” He laughs harder.
“Who let you in the house?” I snap, then take a calming breath, closing my eyes. It isn’t Jedd’s fault I dropped these cookies.
“Kerr cut his hand, and I was wondering if you had any bandages.” My lids pop open, and his expression tells me he doesn’t want to ask me for anything, but the boy is bleeding.
“In the bathroom upstairs, but Hannah’s showering.”
Jedd nods, taking in the mess on my floor.
“Smells delicious,” he states as I lower for the scraps. Most of the cookies cracked from the impact with the wood flooring. Jedd crouches beside me, picking up the pieces and setting them on the counter.
“They were for you and your friends, but...” Obviously, I dropped the set. Feeling slightly incapable and a bit embarrassed, I look up to see Jedd staring at me, his brows pinched.
“What?” I bark. His puzzling gaze makes my skin heat.
“You doing something nice for me, Bee?” he teases in that rough voice of his.
“Not if you’re going to make a big deal of it,” I state, a trace of my edginess outlining the words.
“Five second rule,” he says with a tip of his chin and a growing smile. “I want all the pieces.”
“Well, they need to cool and then be frosted, and I’ll...” The words fade as I glance back at him.
“What?” he asks, reading something in my face. “What’s wrong?” He cups my face with one hand, holding his palm to my jaw as his fingers brush my cheek. The tender touch startles me, but I don’t move, melting into the heat like the cookies lying flat on the pan. He keeps touching me, and I should push him away, but I don’t.
“I don’t know how I’ll carry these out to you boys.” My voice drops quieter. I hadn’t considered carrying a t
ray and using my crutches over the gravel. Jedd slowly smiles, his eyes meeting mine. He guides me to stand, slipping his hand around the back of my neck.
“I’ll carry ’em for you, Bee. I’ll carry anything you need.” My brows pinch with the shift in his tone, rumpled sheets and grogginess returns. He tugs me forward, and his lips brush my forehead. I stiffen under his hold and pull back, glaring at him.
What the…what was that for?
“They aren’t ready yet,” I note, keeping my voice steady even as the rest of me trembles in confusion. Jedd stands close, too close again, and I inhale the fresh air and cut wood fragrance of him.
“When you’re ready then. I’m not going anywhere.” There’s so much I could read into what he says, so much danger in the false promise and threat of hope. His thumb strokes the side of my neck, and I shake my head, ridding thoughts of him meaning more. He drops his hand and pulls a phone from his back pocket. “Give me your number. Then I’ll text you mine so you can call me when everything is ready.”
I swallow back an awkward lump in my throat. “I don’t actually know my number.”
“How do you not know your number?” he teases, and I glance over at the house phone on the wall.
“Well, I don’t call myself,” I say, falling back into bitter, snappish tones with the reminder of all I don’t know. “I give out Hannah’s number for everything.” She tried to teach me how to use the bells and whistles of a smartphone, insisting the landline wasn’t safe enough, but I grew frustrated with the technology. She demands I keep the cell phone near me at all times, but it’s an old flip phone. I miss the landline. The phone remains, but the service is off. “I don’t think my phone accepts texts.”
Jedd chuckles again, and Hannah enters the room wearing a robe and a towel on her head. Just then, there’s a light knock on the back door before it opens without being answered.
“Jedd, how we doing on a Band...Hannah?” Grizzly Grady’s thick voice croaks as he takes in my daughter, whose mouth gapes open at the large man with a trimmed beard and wide blue eyes filling our back door.
Love in Deed: A Silver Fox Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 6) Page 13