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Beau lived in a cabin behind his mom’s place so he could help her out with maintenance at the B and B and just generally be around if she needed him, while Becca was living at her mom and dad’s until she could afford a down payment on a place of her own.
She’d only been home for a little over three months, so the torture of living next door to her was going to probably go on for a few more months.
“I’m gonna open this trunk, Bec,” he warned. “You ready?”
“No.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Gotta do it.”
“You’re going to lose at least one finger.”
“I sincerely doubt it.” He paused. “You wanna go downstairs?”
She looked up at the spider hanging above the steps. “Yes.”
“Okay.” He straightened and looked around.
He spotted what he needed on the shelves by the window that overlooked the front yard. His mother’s canning supplies. She didn’t can much anymore, since the bed and breakfast stayed full so much of the time, but she still had boxes of glass jars and lids. He crossed the space and grabbed a jar and a long piece of plastic tubing from another shelf. He wasn’t sure what that was for, but it would work perfectly.
He moved to stand under where Emmaline hung. “Sorry about this,” he apologized to the spider. “I know you’re not doing anything wrong and you’re just minding your own business and not bothering anyone, but this one needs you to be somewhere else.” He inclined his head toward Becca.
“What are you doing?” Becca asked.
“Fixing this for you.” Beau reached up with the plastic tubing and twirled it in the spiderweb. Emmaline was obviously concerned and started wriggling right away, but he quickly dropped her into the jar and covered the top with the lid.
Now up close with her, he could see that she wasn’t a black widow. That was very good.
He turned to face Becca. “Problem solved.”
Her eyes were wide. “That was… awesome.”
It wasn’t. He’d put a spider into a jar. He’d been putting creatures into jars since he’d been a kid. From tadpoles to lightning bugs. But if she thought it was amazing, he’d take it.
“Now you can go downstairs.”
Becca glanced toward the stairs, then toward the trunk, then focused on him. “I feel bad leaving you up here alone.”
He huffed out a laugh. “I’ll be fine. I’m not worried about Remy or Damon.”
“Okay. But scream if you need me.”
There was no way in hell he was going to scream.
She started for the stairs, the tablecloth still clutched around her head.
He set the jar with the spider on the floor by the top of the steps. He’d release her outside. He supposed that removing her from the attic wasn’t a terrible idea. While she hadn’t really been bothering anyone, his mother would appreciate having one less spider up here as well.
He moved toward the trunk, then realized he didn’t know what the tablecloth he was searching for looked like.
“Becca?” he called.
“Yeah?”
Her voice came from right behind him. He turned. “What are you doing?”
“The door’s locked.”
He frowned. “What door?”
