He heads over to the broken wood and rips off a piece. Just like that. His big hands breaking planks of wood like they’re made of styrofoam.
“I think we should clear the debris,” he says. “Throw it in the back of my truck and we can bring it to the disposal center.”
My lustful eyes are locked on him as he carries the wood to his truck and tosses it in. I love how every muscle in his torso tightens and flexes with every movement. It’s hypnotizing. I’ll never be able to focus with him around.
“We can stop by the lumber yard on the way home,” he says as he walks back. “I know the owner and can get you a deal. We can patch that hole in the ceiling and fix the wall until the construction crew starts. I don’t want any raccoons or rain getting in.”
“And what am I going to owe you for all this?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Dinner,” he says, stopping and standing still. “Let me take you out to dinner, June. My treat.”
I should negotiate. I should ask for more favourable terms. Some that I can think of… He must work shirtless. I get to massage those big broad shoulders at the end of the day. He has to let me touch his beard whenever I want. No questions asked.
But I don’t. I can’t stop myself from agreeing immediately.
“You got yourself a deal, Mr. April.”
He grins and my heart soars.
“Tonight,” he clarifies.
“You got it,” I say with a laugh. “But just so you know, all of my clothes reek of smoke.”
CHAPTER SIX
Ethan
“How long were you there?” I ask June as my truck rolls down the road—music playing through the speakers, the open windows filling the cab with fresh mountain air, the bed full of freshly cut wood.
“Three long years,” she says with a carefree laugh.
I glance over at her and my heart clenches. Her elbow is resting on the door, her leg propped up on the seat, amber hair loose and whipping in the wind. It feels so natural and right with her beside me. It feels like I’ve known her my whole life. I’ve never clicked with a woman like this before. I’ve never clicked withanyonelike this before.
Her hands move as she talks. She’s so expressive and animated, like her whole body is involved in telling the story along with her. I could listen to her stories for the rest of my life.
“If you made a mistake, he’d smack you with a bamboo stick,” she says, shaking her head. “He did that to me onceand I told him I’d shove it into his pee-hole if he ever did that again.”
I get a little twinge of fury at picturing another man smacking her, but then I laugh, brushing it away. This fierce woman can handle herself.
“He didn’t understand me,” she says with a grin, “but heunderstoodme, you know? Anyway, he never touched me again. He smacked my spinning wheel instead. The other apprentices weren’t so lucky though.”
She tells me all about buying and renovating the barn into a pottery studio and all of the big plans she’s working toward of owning her own shop in town. I just know she’s going to do it all. She’s the most determined woman I’ve ever met. It’s such a turn on.
I tell her about my family back home and how I wasn’t compelled to become a doctor. “I don’t know why. It just wasn’t me.”
“It kind of is though,” she says, watching me with her head tilted like she’s breaking me apart and trying to figure me out.
“How so?”
She shrugs that sexy shoulder that’s peeking out of her large shirt. It’s been driving me crazy all day. “The way you were with me last night. So gentle and caring. I think you would have been a great doctor if you wanted to be. But either way you’re helping people and I can tell that’s what’s most important to you.”
“Hmm,” I say as I turn to the road, her words swirling in my head. “I never thought of it like that.”
“I don’t think you’re so different from them at the core,” she says like she’s got it all figured out. And maybe she does. “You’re wearing different uniforms, but in the end you’re both helping people when they’re at their most vulnerable, keeping them safe, and protecting them.”
Her words flip a switch in me. Maybe I’m not the oddduck out after all. Maybe I wasn’t switched at birth and am more like my family than I ever thought before.
“So, the gardening,” she says, resting her head on the seat as she turns to watch me drive. “Was that just a calendar thing or is that for real?”
