Page 44 of My Favorite Hero

His eyes widened as he took a drink of coffee. “Yeah.”

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“Um, no,” he muttered, but a dull color suffused his cheeks.

“I thought I heard you yell.”

He choked on a mouthful of cookie, trying to cover it up with a cough. “Probably at Miller. He was chasing shadows last night.”

“Ah.”

“I built the deck,” he said, as if wanting to change the subject. “There used to be stairs here.”

“I remember,” I mused.

“When did you live here?” he asked.

I blew out a stream of air. “I was six the first time. A little older the second.” I frowned. “The steps were pretty rickety.”

“Yeah, by the time I got my hands on them, they’d been repaired badly—twice. Lou asked me to look at them, and I told her they were a lost cause.” He leaned back in his chair, casually pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie, showing off his toned forearms.

“I suggested the deck, and once it was built, I added the privacy wall and the pergola. She loved it.” He reached out and touched a vine growing up the outside wall. “Gave her a nice spot to sit, some shade, and a place for more plants. She loved to garden.” He glanced toward the back. “I need to restore the garden. Things are still growing, but I’m not much of a plant person.”

“Lou always had so many vegetables and flowers,” I said in recollection. “I used to help pick them with her. She was always giving things away. Canning. Pickling.”

“Still was up until she fell.”

I felt a rush of sadness. “I wish I’d been here. I would have helped.”

I looked up to see him studying me. There was no accusation in his eyes, only understanding. “You lost touch?” he asked quietly.

I swallowed the painful lump in my throat. “Yeah. Long story.”

He seemed to sense I didn’t want to talk about it. He stood. “Well, let’s hang the wind chimes.”

I went and got the wind chimes. He carried a long extension ladder from the garage and leaned it against the house. I handed him the longest set, and he grimaced. “Of course.”

I laughed. “It has nothing to hamper it,” I explained. “And to be honest, it is the prettiest.”

“And the loudest.”

“Actually, the other two are louder.”

“Well then, good choice.”

He climbed the ladder, instructing me to hold it for him. He was steady and confident, no hesitation as he went up the rungs. I admired the view from below—his strong legs, toned ass, and long arms as he clipped it in place on the eavestrough.

“Okay?” he asked, giving it a little push so it moved, tinkling and singing out.

I shut my eyes and smiled. “Perfect.”

He climbed down. “Okay. Done. My debt is paid.”

I laid my hand on his arm. “Thank you, Jesse.”

Our eyes met and held. In the sunlight, the colors blended into a swirl of blue-green. They were hypnotic. And he looked relaxed, approachable. Not a frown to be found.

He grinned. “You called me Jesse. Not Thorne.”