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The guy with the dark green t-shirt, jeans and work boots cut off the chainsaw’s motor. He had on a yellow safety hat with an eye protecting visor on the front that was tipped up in the air. He had on what looked like chaps over his jeans, but I assumed were some kind of safety gear so he didn’t chop a leg off.
Beside him were three other guys, pulling out rope and whatever they needed to get to work on removing the tree.
Mav was coming up the walk holding a compostable tray with four coffees. Between the script on the cups and the pink t-shirt he wore with Steaming Hotties across his massive chest, I knew where they’d just been.
Scout ran over and settled beside him, knowing who his person was.
If Mav put on a flannel and grabbed the chainsaw from the tree guy, he could pose for a lumberjack calendar. Maybe he’d grow a beard this winter and then the look would be complete. The fact that he had a little mutt as a sidekick was endearing and amusing.
“We were over here early this morning,” he said, glancing about at the mess, then meeting my eyes with his dark ones. “Bridget was up for her run.”
I looked him over in his jeans and ridiculous pink t-shirt, one which he seemed confident in wearing. I didn’t see him as a runner, although I’d been mistaken about the man more than once. But he knew her routine and wasn’t fazed by her early hours. But, being a CEO of a huge corporation, I didn’t expect him to sleep in.
“We decided to get this project moving along,” he continued, grabbing a coffee and handing it to me. “I guess Bridge went to school with this guy?” He angled his head toward the man with the chainsaw and I gave him a second look.
“Wow, yeah. I didn’t recognize him with facial hair.” I hadn’t seen many of her friends since they graduated. Four years ago. “His father isn’t much older than me. Had him–Daniel–right out of high school.” If Daniel was twenty-two, then Case was around forty. “I do their business taxes.”
Mav ran his free hand over the back of his neck, and I could tell he was feeling old. Bridget was friends with a guy whose dad was about the same age as him.
“Bridget suggested the company and I gave them a call. They–along with probably everyone else in town–heard all about it,” Mav said. “Decided to put your project to the top of their list.”
I wasn’t sure how that had been accomplished, if the Pearson Tree Service didn’t have many customers, which seemed unlikely in July, or if they felt ridiculously sorry for us and considered our project an emergency. Like triaging patients in a major pileup. The Becketts were the worst of the worst when it came to tree problems and got taken care of first.
I hadn’t heard of any other tree destroying a house, so that was probably accurate.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Bridget asked, setting one of the filled reusable grocery bags at her feet. She must have finished filling it. “Daniel’s dad–” the man who ran Pearson’s Tree Service “–said all we have to do is give him the insurance guy’s info and he’ll send him the bill directly.”
God, that made it simple and one less conversation with the sleazy adjuster.
“Mad? That you did this?” I asked. “Of course not. One thing off my list. Thank you.”
Dex pulled up and parked across the street. When he climbed out, I couldn’t help but stare.
“I know how you like your lists and all, doing things a certain way.”
Mav’s words startled me from checking out the way Dex’s leg muscles flexed as he walked. Or the way his hair glinted in the morning sun. Or–
Shit. I was looking at him like he was James Bond coming out of the sea in sexy little swim trunks. He was in nylon gym shorts instead, but those things should be illegal. They were the summertime version of winter’s gray sweatpants, where while everything was covered, nothing was hidden because… bulging.
I licked my lips, worried I had drooled. Who knew a hint of a bulging dick would be mesmerizing.
“Earth to Lind.” Dex winked.
“Sorry. What? Lists… right.” My face was flaming with embarrassment. “Perishable food first. We then need to move things out of the rooms with the tree in it so they can chop it all up without anything else breaking. The adjuster said we can either move it to the undamaged part of the house or we have to get a pod.”
“The tree guys will start with the part in Mr. VanMeyer’s backyard. We’ll do the rest of the food from the fridge, and you can start on your bedroom,” Bridget offered, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I think it took the worst of it, besides the kitchen. When Mav and I get back, we can start in there on emptying the cabinets.” She glanced from me to Dex. “Don’t you have that date tonight?”
I closed my eyes and took a breath. Let the soft morning air try to calm me along with a few deep yoga breaths. A date. Fuck. Yes, I wanted to meet Mr. Right, but God. On top of everything else I had to go meet a stranger and hope for the best. Then there was Dex, whose hand had been on my bare ass this morning and now knew the idea of me being bent over his knee was a turn on.
I flicked my gaze toward him. He said nothing, but I couldn’t miss the clenched jaw or the way his broad shoulders tensed.
“Yup. Alan, a dentist who lives by the ski resort.” I tried to sound upbeat because the guy had a job. One that wasn’t ever going to go run out of clients. He was solid. Sturdy.
Then there was Dex, who was only physically solid and sturdy. He was temporary. A roamer.
Neither man said anything. Mav traded Dex the coffees for the empty reusable shopping bags and headed for the kitchen, Scout sticking close. Bridget twisted her lips into something like a fucked-up smile and followed.
“I’ll help you with your room,” Dex offered, then stomped inside.
