Page 38 of Meet Me in Ivy Falls

‘Beck, you agreed,’ she started.

‘To be totally professional,’ I said quickly because I didn’t want to give her another reason to push me away. Or call off our agreement. I needed her too much.

Her focus returned to cutting up and rolling the carpet into small pieces. We worked in silence for a while until she yelled, ‘Shit!’ and wrenched a thick metal staple from her hand. A gush of blood slid down her thumb. I jumped up and pressed the edge of my T-shirt to her hand.

She gave me a slight shove and covered the puncture with her own shirt. ‘I should have my gloves on. First lesson in renovation: always make sure you wear the right equipment to protect yourself.’

Her warning was laced with meaning.

If we were going to keep working this closely, I’d have to arm myself from a lot more than sharp things. I was going to have to protect my heart, because the more I saw her, talked to her, the more I wanted to confess the truth. Convince her I was a guy worth trusting again.

Now that I’d kissed her and remembered the sweet taste of her mouth, it was clear that working together was going to be a slow kind of torture. A torture I absolutely wanted.

Chapter Eighteen

TORRAN

Popping Up Like A Whac-A-Mole.

I walked a path across the floor doing everything I could to push away the smell of Beck on my clothes and skin. Dammit. How had I slipped under his spell again?

I’d sworn I wouldn’t let his presence cloud my judgment, but all it took was him pulling me close and I’d turned into fucking Jell-O. And I hated to admit it but laughing with him in the hallway had felt good. Like I could finally shake off the darkness my father always seemed to leave in his wake.

He wasn’t subtle in the way his gaze tracked me through the house. How he wanted to follow me into every room. But this part of the job was sacred to me. I wanted to be alone when the property was torn down to the studs. I loved the quiet silence of wandering the old hallways. It let me size up each of the rooms. Allowed me to dream about how each space could be designed. How the light played against the walls and what paint colors would make the room come alive. It was like a blank canvas waiting for me to create a picture that would make the buyer feel like they’d finally found their home.

Manny understood how important this part of the process was to me. He respected my methods and hung back until I was ready to share my ideas.

Beck was different. He’d made it clear he wanted to be part of every detail. Have a say on what finishes and fixtures we used. It was part of my demands when we talked about this partnership, but now I had to figure out how I was going to deal with his constant presence, and all my old feelings that kept popping up like a Whac-a-Mole.

Beck hefted a carpet roll onto his shoulder.

‘Here, let me help.’

I moved to his side and set my hands on his waist. He sucked in a quick breath as I shifted his body so his legs were shoulder-width apart. Slowly, I inched my hand up his back and over his muscled shoulder, shifting the roll so it was perfectly balanced. The heat of him sent a shock through me. That kiss, the way he slid his hands over my body, rolled around in my head again.

‘You need to learn to lift with your legs or you’re going to screw up your back,’ I said, quickly stepping back. ‘And next time, wear short sleeves. It’s got to be at least ninety in here without air conditioning.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ve got this,’ he said as he shuffled out the door.

This kind of job wasn’t for everyone. I’d seen lesser men crumble under the work required to fix a house this size. Whether he knew it or not, the next months would be a test for him. I’d felt the soft skin on his hands. He’d never done real manual labor. Punched through walls as a thick layer of Sheetrock dust covered his hair. Crawled across floors until his knees were raw and bruised.

Manny wouldn’t let him off easy either. I’d noticed the way he’d watched Beck the day of our walk-through. He’d push him to the edge to see if he’d break, and if Beck was still the same guy he was ten years ago, he’d push right back.

A tiny giggle from the doorway made me spin around.

‘How’d you get in here?’ I said.

Manny’s daughter looked at me with big brown eyes. ‘I walked through the door.’

‘This is a construction zone, Lou. It’s not safe for kids. Go back outside.’

As usual she ignored me and stalked across the room, her pink tennis shoes thudding across the floor. In the back corner, she bounced up and down like I’d done earlier.

‘You missed a spot.’ She tapped her shoe against the floor. ‘You need a T-nail right here.’

I moved to her side and placed my boot to the spot and sighed as the floor bounced beneath me.

‘You are some sort of house whisperer. Just like your dad.’ Lou giggled as I poked her belly.