AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The glimmer of movement shifting beside me draws my attention. I turn toward the man now searching the two by fours. The cheesy opener they have us use when greeting a customer lodges itself in my throat.
My God. He’s gorgeous. Sandy brown hair, the shadow of a beard forming on his impossibly straight jawline. Are men like that even legal? A warm flicker of heat blooms in my stomach, kindling like the building flame of a campfire.
Warm, inviting, like home.
It’s him.A voice whispers inside me.
Though nothing about this man feels even remotely familiar. He’s wearing three hundred-dollar shoes and a Burberry jacket. The man doesn’t even look like he belongs in a Home Depot, let alone the poor end of Oakland.
He faces me, and immediately I jerk my head away.
Omigosh! He caught me. He probably thinks I was creepily checking him out.
Well, I am checking him out, but I wasn’t being creepy. Was I?
A lump forms at the base of my throat. I should have at least smiled, or even said, “hi”. It’s not abnormal, right? I’m at work. I could have played it off like I was only doing my job and ask him if he needs help. But no. I just turned away from him like I didn’t want to be bothered with answering questions.
Now, I’m worried about whether he thinks I’m rude. It’s not like I can hide the fact that I work here. What would Lyndsey do?
I’d hike my boobs up and march my fine ass over there.
Yeah. That’s not going to work for me. I should at least say, “hi”. Ask him if he needs any help? I mean, it is my job, so…
“Excuse me.” His voice is right beside me. I jump despite the potential to die from embarrassment.
I face him.
Great. He’s even better up close. With such little distance between us, I note a slim white scar that cuts through his brow to the side of his face. It’s barely noticeable except for the slight indent in his eyebrow. It adds an air of danger and mystery to his person, and I am instantly enthralled by needing to know more about this man.
“Hi,” is all I can seem to get out, along with a weak smile that barely hides the trembling.
“I was wondering whether you made custom cuttings or not?”
He looks scared. Am I smiling too much?
I take a deep breath.This is why you’re still a virgin.
He’s just a man. An impossibly handsome man with green eyes like jade gemstones, but a man in need of help at the place I work, all the same. All I have to do is suck it up and talk to him.
Besides, bolting down the aisle doesn’t sound any less humiliating.
“Normally, someone from the lumber department would be able to,” I finally say. “But, the main person who operates the machine isn’t here at the moment. I was assigned here as a sort of a last-minute replacement, and I’m not authorized to use the machine. I can put together an order for you, though, and have it ready for you in a day or two.”
“Sounds great.”
I walk him to a small table where the order forms are kept.
My pulse thumps against my throat, a reminder that he’s only a few inches away from me. Six bullet points down the list of orders and several thousand dollars worth of merchandise later, and all I’ve been able to think about is his voice in my ear. Wanting him closer, his hands on my body, pulling me against a chest that looks like it's been chiseled from marble and forged by the ancient gods.
“This is a huge order,” I say nervously. This is going to take forever for them to prepare. “Are you building your own house?”
He laughs, and a feeling like warm butter slides down my chest. “Not mine, actually. The supplies are for a charity. My friend and his wife develop housing for underprivileged families. They recruit volunteers to make repairs, build new houses, stuff like that.”
My heart. I can’t take it. The man has a soul. “That’s awesome! How often do you do this?”
“Oh, I don’t,” he says, practically leaping at the chance to correct the mistake. “I just pay for the supplies.”
I feel my lips collapse at the ends. Did he mean to say it like that? To treat volunteering like something to be sneered at, looked down upon as insignificant when compared to the gift of money?
