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“Are you doing me a favor?”
The question didn’t make sense at first. Eventually though, I nodded. “You mean by taking on the reno?”
“I mean by taking on the reno with zero money up front,” she said frankly. “Not a lot of contractors would’ve done that. Most of them would’ve laughed in my face, actually.”
“Yeah, well I’m not most contractors.”
“No,” she confirmed, and I thought I caught her eyes sweeping me up and down. “You’re definitely not. And that’s why I want you to take the surfboard. Consider it just a small thank you gift, for helping me out.”
Serena wasn’t just smiling now, she was beaming. It lit up her whole beautiful face. It didn’t make sense that she’d been married to David’s father. She seemed way too young, and far too cute.
Between her fantastic looks and sunny disposition, I could easily see why Tate liked her so much. And make no mistake, he did like her. I’d been around my friend long enough to know when he was into someone. And he was most definitely into this woman. Not that I could blame him one bit.
“Alright, well slap a ‘sold’ sticker on her and keep her safe for me,” I told her. “I’ll throw it in the truck on the way home.”
“Done.”
“And if your husband happened to leave any decent tools lying around down there, let me know,” I added. “I’ll be interested in those for sure.”
At the completion of my sentence, Serena laughed. Her laughter was so loud that half the people at the garage sale turned to look our way.
“What’s so funny?”
“What’s so funny?” she repeated glibly. “The idea of Eric fixing anything, much less owning the right tools for the job.”
“Ah,” I smiled. “He was one of those, eh?”
“The kind who’d try to fix a leaky faucet with a hammer,” Serena joked. “And then walk away saying the hammer was broken.”
I didn’t know much about her ex-husband, only that Tate told me she was divorced. I hadn’t been on the basketball team like the others had. My sport had always been football.
But damn, whoever divorced this woman should probably have their head examined.
“Oh, by the way,” she said as I walked toward the front door. “Here.”
She threw something to me, something that flashed in the sun. It traveled the sky in a slow, perfect arc, making it easy to snatch it with my hand.
When I opened my palm, I held a bright, shiny key.
“That’s for the house,” she called after me, “because I’m not always here. Tate has one too.”
Closing my fist again, I slipped the key into my pocket. “Aren’t you worried I’ll rob you blind?” I joked.
“Baby,” she said, and I absolutely loved the way she said the word, “if you find anything worth stealing in this house, let me know and I’ll split it with you.”
Sixteen
SERENA
The week dragged by, and this time it was filled with work, chaos, and sexual frustration. The work part I could handle, because I’d always put in fifty, sometimes sixty-hour work-weeks. The chaos of having a dumpster dropped in my driveway and pickup trucks constantly pulling up to the house was something I could deal with too. That part meant progress. It meant that soon I’d have a second income in the form of a rental property, not to mention the convenience of a handyman contractor living right beneath my feet.
And an overly hot contractor to boot.
No, it was the sexual frustration part that was getting to me. Specifically, the not being able to touch Tate for a few long days. He had a work project he had to deal with, so he was gone for most of the week. And on the nights he could come to do some work on the car? Well, those happened to coincide with Cole working late in the basement.
It was Friday, and for once I had a normal shift ahead of me. I showered, shaved myself smooth, and headed into the kitchen for something to eat… only to find the scent of coffee somehow already preceded me.
“Hey there, sleepyhead.”
