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And I could stare at him all day long.
But he's seen me practically naked, which means he's definitely not interested.
Harvey always said no one would want me. I'm inclined to think he was right. And I was perfectly fine living out the rest of my days in peaceful solitude here in Fern Hollow...until I met Gray.
Now I want Gray railing me over the kitchen counter, and that's not exactly good.
I just met him like two minutes ago and I’m already having crazy fantasies about him.
I need to get a grip.
I take him upstairs to show him the leaky roof, where a bucket sits under a steady drip in the master bedroom. This is the first—and biggest—problem, since I have to sleep here. Gray crosses his arms and looks around, his eyes narrowed.
"You got a stepladder?" he asks.
"Yeah," I say. "Sure...just give me a second."
I run to find the stepladder I bought at Home Depot on my way out of Portland, but by the time I haul it back up the stairs, Gray is already checking out the problem. I stop in my tracks, my eyes wide as I stare at him. He's yanked over a rickety old wooden chair and is standing on it, peering up at the hole in the ceiling. His t-shirt and jacket ride up to reveal a V of muscle running down past the waist of his jeans, and a line of curly black hair that terminates in...
Whoa.
I amthirsty.
"You got that stepladder?" he asks.
Oh my God, he knows I'm here.
"Uh, yeah!" I say.
"Bring it over here and come on up," he says.
I grab the stepladder and climb up next to Gray. We're now so close that our bodies touch, and I can feel the heat emanating from his skin. He smells like sawdust and sweat, and it's intoxicating.
"Looks like a pretty bad leak," he says, pointing to the hole above us. "I can fix it for you, but it'll take a while."
"How long?" I ask.
"A couple of days, maybe," he responds, not looking at me.
"Okay," I say, trying not to sound too eager. "Just let me know if you need anything."
He nods and starts to climb down. As he does, his hand brushes against my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
Get it together, Claire.
"What else is wrong?" he asks.
"Like...a million things," I mutter. "Let me show you."
We go through each and every problem: the leaky roof in multiple rooms, wallpaper peeling away from the walls along with the sheetrock, the toilet that rocks on its pedestal. There's of course the issue with the faucet in the kitchen, too, and some loose boards in the wraparound porch connected to the master bedroom.
We don’t even go outside. I don’t want to show him the doors of the shed falling apart, or how the fence is sinking into the ground. I need to fix the inside of the cabin first.
"Jesus," Gray says as we walk out onto the porch. "I wish I'd known it was this bad. Dave never said anything."
I bite my lip. "You knew him pretty well?"
Gray shrugs. "I've done some work for him before. He's a good guy."
