“I just need to finish cutting that lumber and storing it onthe porch. Before it decides to rain.”
"Well, if you don't mind, I can cook ussomething." She offered, taking an immense interest in her coffee.
Not hearing anything, she looked up to see him staring ather. His hair was pulled in his signature bun at his nape and today he waswearing a simple black T-shirt. He was looking at her as if he had been waitingfor her to look back at him.
“I wouldn’t mind,” he replied evenly, his black eyesunreadable.
Mixing the ingredients in the bowl, Alessia rolled her neckfrom side to side. She was happy he let her rest today, her body was sore fromall the work. Putting the dish to the side, she pulled out the ingredients forthe crust. The relationship between them was still a little stiff despite theweek of working all day together. She blamed it on his horrible sarcasticpersonality. The man never had a reply that wasn’t embedded in dry sarcasm ather expense, making it impossible for her to bridge the gap between them.
Pounding her fist into the dough, she glared out the windowat him as he stopped and sat down his chainsaw. Taking off his jacket,Alessia’s eyes widened slightly as she watched the hard bulge of his bicep curlas he moved.
“Stupid, weird man,” she grumbled, forcing herself to lookfrom the window, hitting the dough even harder.
She told herself she shouldn't care about trying to doanything about the relationship between them. Their agreement was simple, shestayed here, and he got free labor hard, back aching labor, she groused.
Although she thought with a lift of her brow, she didinadvertently find out a little about the man. For the past two nights, sheused the opportunity while Jax showered to explore the loft she slept in alittle more. There were two big clear bins pushed all the way to the back, farbeyond the reach of the living room's light. As stealthy as possible, she hadcrawled closer, using her phone as a light to look through the dim plastic tosee the contents on the other side: folded military clothing, variousequipment, a few neatly stacked bundles of documents, and pictures. The ferventcuriosity felt wrong as she strained to see the photos. Jax dressed in all hisgear, holding a large gun while smiling with two other men at the camera. Forsome reason, the stolen bit of information didn't shock her at all. Hisprecise, no-nonsense attitude made sense now. Never daring to go so furtherwith her snooping actually to open the bins, Alessia turned and inspected everyoutside inch of the bins, peering in as far as she could see, gleaning anyinformation she could. She went to bed each night, staring at the bins in thecorner and wondered what could have happened that would make a man asindomitable as Jax spend his life deep in the forest.
Dinner that night was quiet.
Alessia realized this was the first time they both actuallysat down at the small round wooden table together and ate. Usually, their mealswere taken in turns. A sandwich or bowl of reheated soup placed on the tablewaiting for either one of them to return from the shower. The food Jax sharedwith her was always simple but good, she could only hope he liked her homemadechicken-pot-pie as well. Doing her best to seem casual, Alessia glanced up fromher plate to see his reaction or at the very least, to see how much he hadeaten.
Dark watchful eyes met hers directly.
A heat of nervous embarrassment streaked through her heart,causing it to skip one whole beat. Slowly, as if time suddenly slowed down, shewatched as one of his wickedly arched eyebrows raised in speculative curiosityand his mouth began to part to speak.
“How do you like it?” She blurted out.
She didn't even know why she did that. There was a poundingpercussion of suspense inside of her as she watched him get ready to speak andeverything inside her screamed to beat him to the punch. The corner of hismouth tugged slightly in a ghost of a smirk. Waving his hand dramatically overhis empty plate, he gave her a pointed look.
“I plan on getting seconds and thirds here in a minute ifthat’s any indication.”
Smiling, she nodded, happy he didn't have anything negativeto say about it.
Silence surrounded them again, this time much moreoppressive than before. The sound of his chair sliding back across the woodenfloorboards practically echoed in the stillness of the room. With his back toher as he got up and served himself more food, it gave Alessia a few preciousseconds to think of something to alleviate the near painful awkwardness.
“So, umm, what’s past the second door next to the bathroom?”Alessia nearly winced at the sound of her own forced tone.
Walking with his plate back to the table, Jax sat heavily inhis chair, causing his slightly damp hair to sway around his shoulders. Alessiahad to steel herself to keep from inhaling the scent of his recently shampooedhair that wafted in the air. Using the edge of his spoon, Jax cut into the sectionof the chicken-pot-pie on his plate and held the steaming bite to his mouth.
“It’s my bedroom,” he answered simply.
Confused, Alessia turned and looked to the far side of thecabin at the large king-size bed pushed into the corner of the room and thenightstand next to it. Turning back to him, she gave him a questioningexpression.
Chewing and swallowing that bite, he cut and scooped upanother large bite before meeting her gaze again with a bored half-lidded look.
“It’s unfinished right now. I sleep in here because it’swarmer and it uses less wood to heat just one room.”
That made sense. When she was able to see the back of thehouse, she always thought that section where that extra door was, was some sortof shed he had pressed against the house. The whole structure was covered invarious blue tarps, so she was never quite certain.
“But that isn’t really what you wanted to ask me, isit?" Leaning back in his chair, Alessia could hear and feel his long legsstretch out on either side of the small table.
“What do you mean?” She hedged.
Somehow his deadpan stare deepened towards her.
"Just go ahead and ask me," taking the last bitefrom his plate, he sat down the spoon. "It's annoying watching you lookaway guiltily every time I catch you staring."
“I don’t stare at you,” she retorted, indignant now.
