Clayton
Loretta Andretti’s place sat at the end of a winding gravel road.
She owned a modest cabin with a wraparound porch that had seen better days. The roof showed obvious signs of recent repair work,myrepair work, and I felt my shoulders tense as I pulled the truck to a stop.
The old woman was already coming out to greet us before I’d even killed the engine, her silver hair pulled back in a neat braid. She broke into a warm smile when she spotted me through the windshield.
“Clayton Armstrong, you sweet boy,” she called out as I climbed down from the truck. “I was hoping you’d come by today.”
Warmth spread through my chest at the sight of her. Mrs. Andretti had been a fixture in my life since I was a kid, always ready with a plate of cookies or a kind word when I needed one.
After my dad passed, she’d shown up at the house every Sunday for three months with casseroles and quiet company, never asking for anything in return.
It was like she’d known I just needed some silent support during those dark days.
“Loretta,” I bent down to accept her hug, careful not to squeeze too tight. She felt frailer than she had last year. “How’s the roof holding up?”
“Not a single leak since you fixed it. You’re a miracle worker, Clay. Now I just have to deal with the plumbing issues.” She patted my cheek with papery fingers, then turned her attention to Rachel, who was climbing out of the passenger side with her tablet already in hand. “And who’s this pretty thing?”
“Rachel Williams, ma’am,” Rachel’s professional smile was firmly in place, but I caught the flicker of something soft in her eyes. “I’m with HomeGuard Insurance. I’m here to assess the hail damage from the recent storm.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you just look around all you need to, honey. Clay here did everything for me. He gotallthe materials for free. Can you believe that? What an angel he is.”
I cringed as the words came out of her mouth, noticing Rachel’s sharp eyes assessing me. We both knew there were no receipts for the work I’d done. And insurance claims worked onactualcosts, not imaginary figures pulled from thin air.
I pulled the tarp off the back of my truck while Nuts and Bolts ran around in Mrs. Andretti’s yard.
“Got some materials for you,” I said, hefting a bundle of salvaged lumber onto my shoulder. “Should be enough to patch up that back fence once the ground dries out. Plus, I’ve got a used sink for you. I’m still waiting for a shower surround. Davis said he’s pulling out of a job next month. The guys are going to try to be careful with it so we can reuse it here.”
“You’re too good to me,” Loretta crooned as Rachel walked off to start her inspection.
She watched me carry the materials to her shed, her eyes sharp despite her age as she followed along behind me. “That girl seems nice. Pretty, too.”
“That’s not a girl, Loretta. That’s a shark disguised in a grown woman’s body.”
The old woman tittered. “You always have been too dramatic, Clay. Did I notice a little sparkle magic between the two of you?”
Sparkle magic. What the fuck.
“No, ma’am. She’s an insurance adjuster, Loretta. That means she’s the enemy. Remember that and don’t get too close to her. She’ll use anything we say against you.”
“I know what she is. I also know how you were looking at her.” She smiled, that knowing grandmother kind of smile that always made me feel about twelve years old. “Your daddy looked at your mama the same way, you know. Right up until the day he died.”
The mention of my father walloped right into my heart. I set down the lumber and turned away, pretending to organize the shed for a second.
“I’ll just get this put away,” I said roughly. “You go on inside where it’s warm.”
“All right, Clay, forget I mentioned it.” Loretta patted my arm before she went back inside, and I was grateful she didn’t push the topic further.
It was no wonder Mrs. Andretti had picked up on my stupid crush right away. She’d always been able to read me like an open book.
I found Rachel around the back of the house, walking the perimeter with her tablet, making notes and taking photographs. The afternoon light caught the red undertones in her tightly bound hair, and I had to force myself to focus on something else before I did something stupid, like tug her bun loose.
Last night had been the hardest night of my life.
This gorgeous woman had slept in my bed two nights now, and I’d managed to keep my hands to myself through sheer force of will. But it was getting harder.
Last night I’d been so close to getting reckless and pulling her against me, finding out what sounds she’d make if I kissed that soft spot behind her ear.
