Hammer, Nails, and Happily Ever After?

by Mitzi Kelly

  He was staring at the back gate, his growl growing deeper and louder. Someone—or something—was right outside her back gate. And then she remembered the footprint outside her living room window, and her blood turned to ice.

  She turned her head to say something to Greg, but with cat-like grace, he was moving away from her, a finger in front of his mouth motioning for her to remain silent. Quietly, he stood and moved toward Jack, placing a hand on his head. Jack’s growling decreased a notch, but the big dog’s gaze was still transfixed on the gate.

  Amazed, Ginger watched Greg and Jack move as if one toward the gate. They had only taken a few silent steps when they left the glow of the lantern, and she could no longer see them clearly, their silhouettes swaying in the darkness. She wrapped her arms around her knees and clamped her teeth together to keep them from chattering. She didn’t know who she was more afraid for—Greg or whoever was on the other side of the gate.

  She strained to hear some kind of noise as she quietly straightened her clothing. But other than a few crickets serenading the moon and the soft whisper of the gentle breeze ruffling through the leaves on her big oak tree, everything was quiet. The time passed excruciatingly slow as she waited for Greg to return. What was taking so long? And why hadn’t he at least called out to let her know what was happening?

  Just when she was thinking of going over to the porch to look for some kind of weapon, footsteps approached, accompanied by the sound of happy panting. Her heroes had returned.

  “What took so long?” she demanded as soon as Greg plopped down in front of her, Jack taking up residence again at the foot of the sleeping bag.

  “I’m sorry if you were worried. I never saw or heard anything, but I waited by the gate for a while to make sure. I even climbed up on the fence to look over, but there wasn’t anything there. It was probably just another dog or a cat.”

  She started to tell him about her uneasiness regarding her neighbor’s odd behavior and the strange footprint, but she held back. What was the point? As far as she knew, it was all a coincidence. She didn’t know for a fact that anything untoward was going on at all.

  They talked quietly for the next half hour, neither one of them broaching the subject of the passion that had spontaneously erupted between them. That had been a close call, and Ginger thanked the gods who governed monumental mistakes for the interruption that had poured cold water over the dangerous flames.

  “Do you want a beer?” Greg asked, leaning over to raise the lid on the ice chest.

  “No, I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow, and I’m feeling wiped out.” And it was true. She was still uncomfortable about their sleeping arrangements, but her eyes were starting to drift closed. “I really appreciate you staying here tonight,” she said with a yawn. Averting her eyes, she reached for a blanket and curled up on a pillow with her back to him. “Good night.”

  He popped the top on the beer can. “Good night, Ginger. Sleep well.”

  ****

  Ginger opened her eyes and was blinded momentarily by the sun. It took her a moment to orient herself, and then she grinned. The camp out. She turned her head and found she was alone. Still smiling, she sat up and stretched.

  Greg came out the back door just as she reached the patio, Jack—the traitor—right by his side. The smile he gave her sent tingles down her back all the way to her toes, and she quickly lowered her eyes and focused on the tray he was carrying. “What is that?”

  “Breakfast, my lady.” He gallantly displayed the appetizing array of Oreo cookies, cheese and crackers, and apple slices. “I didn’t want to turn on the stove or oven, so you’ll have to settle for this. You seriously need to stock up on food supplies.”

  “Why?” she asked around a mouthful of cookie. “This is what I normally have for breakfast.”

  He ran inside for two glasses of milk, and they sat at the small table on her back patio enjoying the beautiful morning. She had trouble keeping a silly grin off her face. This felt so…perfect and natural. She couldn’t imagine anybody in her past going to the trouble to create such a memorable event out of the gasoline disaster.

  Greg stayed almost the entire day Saturday and returned early Sunday, and together they accomplished quite a bit. They cut out the ruined carpet, which was going to be replaced anyway, and almost immediately the noxious fumes began to dissipate. The minor touch-up work was completed in the rooms she’d been working on, and now she was ready to begin the work in her kitchen.

  When she could afford it, that was.

  The next evening after work, Ginger fed Jack, let him outside to take care of business, and then made sure he had plenty of water before she locked up the house and headed over to Greg’s. It had been an incredibly busy day. Justin and Steve had shot instructions at a rapid-fire pace regarding details she would need to handle while they were in Dallas. They left the office mid-afternoon, and Greg left shortly after for a late afternoon appointment, reminding her he would pick up pizza for dinner, proving he definitely knew the way to her heart.

  She turned on the radio to a country western station and navigated her way onto the freeway as she let her thoughts drift back over the last couple of days. After a tense start to the weekend with all the sexual undercurrents, it had turned out to be fun and productive, mainly because neither she nor Greg mentioned their near miss Friday night when they had come dangerously close to crossing the boundaries of friendship.

  When she pulled into Greg’s driveway, he was positioning a tall stepladder in front of a large window. He glanced up and smiled. She couldn’t help but notice his appearance was identical to the way he’d looked when she first met him—cutoff jeans with a rag dangling from the back pocket…and shirtless.

  “I was afraid you’d chicken out,” he called to her as she opened the trunk of her car to grab her tools.

  “Don’t you mean you were hoping I’d chicken out so you’d have an excuse to just sit around on your lazy butt?” She dropped her tools on the ground and looked at the window.

  “Well, there is a baseball game on. We could work on the house tomorrow, you know.”

  “Just what I thought. I’m here to work, buster. Just tell me what we’re going to do.”

  “Obviously not watch baseball.”

  She looked at him until he gave an exaggerated sigh and said, “The trim on all the windows needs to be replaced. I thought I’d pull the rotten boards off and let you call out the measurements to me while I cut the new trim boards. Once the new lumber is up, you can caulk and paint them. Think you can handle that?” he teased.

  She reached down and picked up a tape measure and a caulk gun. “Prepare to be impressed.”

  For the next two hours, they worked hard side by side, completing three windows before Greg finally called it a day. She was pleased when he looked at their handiwork and smiled with satisfaction.

  “Let’s clean up and scarf down some pizza,” he said, gathering the tools from the yard and placing them in a corner of the porch. “I’m hungry, and I know you must be starving.”

  “It’s the only reason I came over,” she replied with a jaunty smile.

  “Greg!”

  She stopped and looked over her shoulder. A man and a young woman were crossing the yard from the house next door, both of them carrying something in their hands. The woman raised her hand and waved, and when Ginger looked back at Greg, he had a huge smile on his face, and he returned the wave with genuine enthusiasm.

  “My neighbors,” he explained to her. “You’ll love them.”

  She turned again to watch the couple approaching and immediately amended her thoughts—it was doubtful they were a couple. The man was older than he first appeared with short, thinning gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He wore tan walking shorts with a tan-and-white short-sleeved shirt, and leather sandals on his feet. Regardless of his age, he was a handsome, distinguished gentleman. He held himself erect, his muscles firm as he walked with a strong, stead
y gait.

  Ginger hated making the acquaintance of people looking the way she did now. Dressed as she was in old denim shorts, a sleeveless T-shirt, baseball cap, and black high-top tennis shoes, the impression she was going to make was questionable, at best.

  The woman she was about to meet, however, made a fantastic first impression. She was strikingly attractive, probably in her late twenties, and exuded self-confidence. She was wearing red Capri pants with a red-and-white tank top and white sandals. She pulled off the ensemble with an understated elegance, her dark-blond hair pulled back into a pony tail and dark sunglasses resting on top of her head. Her smile was what was most engaging, though. It was warm and friendly, matching her clear blue eyes. And those eyes were looking back at Ginger with a mixture of curiosity and welcome.

  “So did you two finally get tired of goofing off and decide to come home?” Greg asked as he shook the smiling gentleman’s hand. “It’s about time.”

  The woman’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she grinned and slapped Greg on the shoulder. “Goofing off?” she replied. “I’ll have you know we’ve been working our tail ends off ever since we left. We found a great apartment, did some exploring to get familiar with the surroundings, and even got to check out my classroom.”

  Classroom? The woman must be a student. Well, good for her. It’s never too late to go back to school.

  Greg laughed and enveloped the woman in a bear hug. “I’m going to miss having you around to tease.”

  “Don’t worry, you won’t get rusty,” the older gentleman said. “She’s promised she’ll come home every chance she gets.”

  The woman rolled her eyes and pushed past Greg. “Hi.” Her smile reached all the way to her eyes as she looked at Ginger. She transferred the plastic container she was carrying to her other arm and held out her hand. “I’m Ricci Nicholson. And this reprobate with me is my uncle, John Nicholson.”

  Ginger stepped off the porch and shook hands with the Nicholsons. “Ginger Carmichael,” she replied, her own smile easy as she sensed the warmhearted nature of Greg’s neighbors.

  “We’ve been watching this young man work you to death,” John Nicholson said, his eyes twinkling. “We figured you needed rescuing, so we brought some stuff guaranteed to make Greg take a break.”

  “Hey!” Greg scowled at Ricci and John and planted his hands on his hips. “First of all, I was going to properly introduce you guys as my neighbors and closest friends. Now I’ll have to leave off the ‘friends’ part.”

  Ricci winked at Ginger. “We are his closest friends.” She handed Greg the container. “In fact, we’re probably his only friends. Nobody else will put up with him.”

  Ginger laughed. She was enjoying the friendly taunting, until her laugh was stifled by a cough when Greg replied, his voice deep with hidden meaning, “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He opened the lid on the container and peeked inside. “Ginger’s my…friend.”

  Ricci looked from one to the other, her eyebrows raised and a small smile playing on her lips.

  Ginger quickly changed the subject. She looked at Ricci. “What courses will you be taking?”

  Ricci laughed. “None. This time I’ll be on the other end of the education scale. I’m going to be teaching elementary children in El Paso.” Ricci’s excitement was evident. Teaching must be something she really had a passion for.

  “Congratulations! That’s a huge responsibility with tremendous rewards,” Ginger said. “Do you have family in El Paso?”

  “No, unfortunately there weren’t any openings in the school districts here. I’ll start my career in El Paso and hopefully be able to transfer back before too long.”

  “I still think you should have just waited,” Greg said, pulling a homemade brownie out of the container. “El Paso is too far away. You could have always come to work for us until a teaching position opened up here. You may deny it, but I think you’d be great with a hammer and some nails.”

  “No, thank you,” she replied with a shudder. “I wouldn’t even know what end of the hammer to hold. I was watching you, though,” she said to Ginger, “and you are amazing. Where did you learn to do home improvement work?”

  “Thank you. My father was a contractor, and I grew up helping him. I actually love working on construction projects.”

  “There you go,” John said, giving Ricci a look. “A daughter following in her father’s footsteps. I may not be your biological father, but I still think you should follow in my footsteps.” His eyes danced as he turned to Ginger. This was obviously a subject the two of them had discussed many times. “I offered to bring her on board at Nicholson Enterprises, but she refused.” He shook his head. “Darn stubborn niece. She says she wants to make it on her own.” The pride in his voice belied his frustration.

  “We got lucky,” Greg said, reaching for another brownie. “Not only does Ginger understand the physical aspect of construction, but she knows how to run a construction office as well. She’s our administrative assistant, and she’s doing a remarkable job.”

  “Wow, you did get lucky,” Ricci said. “You better treat her right. And those brownies were meant to be shared.”

  “Here’s some lemonade to go with them.” John held up the thermos he carried. “We need to let you two get back to what you were doing before it gets dark. It was very nice meeting you, Ginger. Don’t let my friend here take advantage of you.”

  Greg’s lips turned up into a titillating grin. “Don’t worry, John. If anything, she’ll be the one taking advantage of me.”

  Ginger swallowed. She knew her face was turning red again, but there was nothing she could do except stand there and smile.

  Greg turned to carry the brownies and lemonade to the small table on the front porch, promising to get in touch with them again within the next day or two. Ginger also expressed her thanks and told them how much she enjoyed meeting them.

  John turned to leave, but Ricci leaned in close and whispered, “It’s been a very long time since Greg brought a woman home. Not for a visit, and not even to paint his window trim.” Then with a wink and a smile, she turned and joined her uncle.

  ****

  A few wispy clouds floated softly across a brilliant blue sky as Ginger drove to work the next morning. The air was crisp and clear, traffic was light, and there hadn’t even been a line at the drive-through where she had bought an egg biscuit. The day was promising to be one of those glorious days that made her happy just to be alive.

  She had slept like a log the night before. Partly because of the physical exertion from working on Greg’s house, but also because she was content and at peace. She had a job she loved, friends she liked and respected, a house that was quickly turning into a home, and a dog that was downright amazing.

  There was only one downside to her wonderful life—her growing feelings for Greg. He was becoming more and more important to her every day, and that was frightening. She couldn’t fool herself any longer into believing she cared for him only as a good friend, but once she made the mistake of crossing the line into something more meaningful, then everything she loved about him would change.

  She had to be satisfied with what she had. She was luckier than a lot of people, and her life was very fulfilling. For the most part.

  She couldn’t help but smile as she recalled the tour Greg had given her of his house last night. The remodeling and repairs had not started in the kitchen yet, where they had sat and devoured pizza, lemonade, and brownies, and talked about his wonderful neighbors and the pros and cons of modern-day construction tools. The kitchen appliances were serviceable but old and made in an unattractive shade of avocado. The flooring and countertops were dated as well, but regardless, the area was clean and comfortable.

  It was apparent the brothers had started their repairs in the upstairs section of the house where the bedrooms and bathrooms were located. She had felt guilty peeking into her bosses’ bedrooms, but Greg had assured her there were no monsters ready to jump out behind the c
losed doors. The rooms were similar in style and color; big, masculine furniture in dark mahogany wood, a variety of nature paintings, and thick, plush carpet.

  She had given each room a cursory glance, quickly expressing her admiration for the style and the men’s handiwork before she practically ran back downstairs. She couldn’t outrun the image of Greg’s huge, king-sized bed now seared into her brain, though, and she could have sworn she heard him chuckling as he followed her.

  All the improvements the brothers had completed, and the ones they were still working on, were tastefully done with beautiful workmanship and an eye for detail. She was pleased to note she could help with almost everything Greg planned to do to the house. If he’d let her, that was.

  She pulled into a parking space in front of the office and climbed out of her car. She wasn’t expecting Greg for several hours since he had informed her he had an early morning appointment. The free time would allow her to work on the list of backlogged tasks piling up. That was the plan, anyway. However, the phones were unusually busy, and twice she had to endure rehearsed speeches from unannounced tool salesmen before she could even explain the owners were out of the office. The glorious day was fast becoming frustrating.

  She’d just poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat back down at her desk when the phone rang again. With a deep sigh, she forced cheerfulness into her voice and picked up the phone.

  “Hello, Ginger. This is Clyde McDaniel. How are you today?”

  This time Ginger’s smile was genuine. She hadn’t spoken to Clyde since the meeting he had attended at the office. “I’m fine, thank you. It’s great to hear from you. What can I help you with?”

  “Are any of the Tuckers in yet?”

  “I’m afraid not. Is there something I can help you with?”