She was wearing old jeans and the flannel shirt I’d let her borrow on her first night at my place, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Sawdust clung to her sleeves, and there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek.
She stole my shirt.
For some reason that filled my heart so much it started overflowing.
Thiswoman hadn’t just stolen my shirt, she’d stolen my heart. This stubborn woman who’d lost everything and was stillfighting to rebuild it again. Who’d chosen to stay in this broken-down farmhouse instead of running back to the life she’d left behind in Abeline.
She was the light in my darkness. The only woman I wanted to share my Kit-Kat bars with. The only person who’d ever made my cabin feel like a home instead of a hiding place.
And I’d almost let her slip away because I was too scared to reach for what I wanted.
“You’re holding it upside down,” I rumbled.
She jumped, the manual flying from her hands. “Hall! What are you—how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see you’re in over your head.”
I crouched down, picking up the scattered pieces of the saw. My hands knew what to do even if my mouth didn’t. I started assembling it, fitting the parts together with the ease of long practice.
“You came,” she whispered. “You got my message?”
“Naw. My phone was dead.” I didn’t look at her. Couldn’t. If I looked at her, I’d lose my nerve. “But I had to come see how you’re doing.”
She sniffled and wiped away a tiny tear. “I called earlier today but never heard back. I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
A shy smile landed on my lips. “And I thought you didn’t need me. Aren’t we a pair?”
We were both quiet for a moment. The only sound was the click of metal as I finished assembling the saw.
“There.” I stood, brushing sawdust from my knees. “What are you trying to cut?”
“These trim boards for the kitchen doorframe.”
I measured, marked, and cut them while she held the pieces steady. Then I set down the saw and turned to face her.
She was watching me with those big brown eyes, sawdust in her hair, hope and fear warring in her expression.
We were both broken.
We had wounded, tender hearts that only fit with each other.
I struggled to find the right words to express myself to her.
Finally, I managed to say, “I can install these tomorrow after work. You don’t have to do this alone.” The words came out rough, too raw.
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”
"I can gather up some of my buddies to help finish the work. Zane and Davis will come out for me."
"Th-that's nice. Don't feel obligated though."
"I don't," I kicked at the ground, shuffling the dirt around under my feet. Why were words so hard for me?
Then I finally managed to tell her what Ireallymeant. “Stay. With me.”
Her breath caught. “Hall…”
The floodgates opened, and everything I felt finally poured out of me. “I know it’s fast. But I’ve spent my whole life watching from a distance, telling myself I don’t deserve the things I want.”
