"She’s made her choice, Dylan," I grumble, as I make a beeline for the kitchen, looking for some food to soothe my soul. "It'snotyour problem.” I stand with a hand resting atop the door of my fridge, trying to decide what to eat. Nothing seems appealing—except the idea of sucking that sweet toffee croissant from between her fingers—so I pick out a few vegetables and grab the venison steaks I butchered a couple of days back.
As I go through the motions of peeling and chopping the vegetables while waiting for the cast-iron skillet to heat, her green eyes dance through mind, along with that giggly laugh of hers. My dick goes hard as I close my eyes and envision her delicious body, but then I’m quickly plagued with stomach-churning thoughts of her falling through rotted floors, or getting buried under a collapsed roof. "Fuck.” I open my eyes and shake the imagery away. “She’s not your responsibility."
When I drop everything into the skillet, the smell of frying meat and vegetables thankfully speaks to my basal self, my grumbling stomach allowing me to push all thoughts of my pretty neighbor from my mind.
But as soon as I make my way to the dining room, full plate in hand, the memory of her hacking at her hedges with the chainsaw returns. Her curvaceous ass, flat on the ground when she lost control… the fear in her eyes… "Jesus. You do not owe this womananything, man," I grumble to myself in between bites.
Making my way back into the kitchen when I finish, I’m still fighting with my own mind. "You’ve done more than enough for someone who doesn’t want it," I remind myself as I put the final plate back where it belongs after tidying up. Then I pull out my kettle and fill it with water to boil, spooning loose-leaf tea into a pot, my blood feeling even hotter than the heating water as I wait.
“This is stupid,” I grunt, taking the kettle off the burner and pushing the unmade tea to the side. “I’m gonna need something way stronger than this.”
Grabbing my keys and jacket, I jump back into my truck and take the uneven road down the mountain, finding myself outside Valentines, the bar run by my four cousins, Kellen, Vaughn, Otis and Remy. It’s Kellen I find standing behind the bar with a welcoming smile. He sets a beer in front of me as soon as I slide my ass on a stool.
“Trouble in reclusive paradise?” he asks, folding his arms across his big chest as he assesses me with eyes the same green as mine—a Valentine trait we all share.
It’s quiet in the bar at this time of night on a weekday, so I don’t mind taking up my cousin’s time with my troubles after I take a long drink of my beer, then let out a sigh. “My neighbor moved in.”
“I heard,” he says with a gentle nod. “Some young and innocent-looking thing from Kismet Cove. Jade and Charity were thinkin’ about headin’ up there with a welcome basket or something.”
“She’d love that,” I say with a grunt, immediately picturing the delighted excitement of the girl who wears her emotions on her sleeve.Maybe that’s why I feel so protective of her.
“You have dealin’s with her?”
“Helped her sort out some trouble with Marvin. Asshole saw how green she was and took her for a ride. She almost killed herself tryin’ to weild that chainsaw he sold her.” I shake my head and drain the last of my drink. Kellen quickly refreshes it.
“Is that why I heard about you thunderin’ your way through town this mornin’?”
I quirk a brow. “New travels fast.”
“Of course. Small town, and since my sister-in-law runs the bakery, she’s privy to all the goin’s on around here.”
I look up at him with a half smile. “Millie raved about Yvette’s cupcakes. Acted like she’d discovered a hidden gem. Didn’t have the heart to tell her I was related to the owner.”
“Am I sensin’ a soulwink in the makin’ here, cousin?” Kellen asks, his voice low as he leans in conspiratorially. “You know Jade will lose her mind if it turns out she’s right again. And she does tend to be…”
“No.” I pinch my brow together. “No. I don’t think so. I admit to wonderin’ if it might be the case. But after today…”
“What happened today?”
“That infuriatingly positive woman decided she didn’t needmyhelp. She reckons she can renovate that rundown cabin all by her-inexperienced-self. Do you know what I caught her doin’ yesterday? She was wieldin’ a twenty-pound chainsaw like she was using it to catch butterflies or something. Lost control of it more than once, and if I hadn’t been in the vicinity, she’d have likely killed herself.”
“Well, if you talked to her with even half the growl you just used with me, you probably scared the poor girl half to death.”
“She ain’t scared of me,” I growl. “Not even a bit. She’s…bubbly and friendly and…” I pause, not wanting to put my true feelings into words.I only just met the girl.
“Then what makes you so sure she doesn’t want your help?”
“Because she told me as much. Said she didn’t wanna take up anymore of my time after I helped her clear away all the overgrowth today. Said she could do the rest by herself. But she can’t. If you and I were up there renovating that place ourselves, I’d still wanna call in extra help. The place is half falling down. She’s gonna get herself seriously injured or killed.”
“Sounds like you’ve already made your decision here.”
Draining the last of my second drink, I growl as I stand and pull my wallet out of my back pocket. “I’m fuckin’ well gonna help her no matter what she says,” I grunt, peeling off a twenty and holding it out.
“Your money’s no good here, cousin,” Kellen says, kindly. “But I do expect you’ll come back real soon and update me. I don’t wanna hear all my news through Yvette and Otis.”
“I have a feelin’ this girl is gonna be the death of me, but I’ll see what I can do,” I say, sliding my money back into my pocket and heading out the door with a wave and a thanks. I may not spend a lot of time around other people, but I always appreciate family. They’re always there for me even when it feels like the rest of the world is not. And they’re especially there for me whenIfeel like I’m not meshing so great with the world. A couple of drinks and a no-holds-barred conversation and I’m steered right again.
Whether Millie wants my help or not, she’s gonna get it. My conscience—and maybe some other parts of me—demands it.
