The hint of longing in her voice surprises me. Is she just making conversation? Or does she want me to stick around? There’s a spark between us I can’t deny—despite how little I actually know about her. Does she feel it too?
I don’t have an answer. Not an honest one, anyway. “I’ve thought about it. I loved living here when I was a kid. But Seattle is too damn expensive for me to stay long term. Picking up odd jobs here and there is good enough to pay my grocery bill, but not to afford rent in this town. If it weren’t for Adam letting me live above the shop for free, I’d have left weeks ago.”
Raelynn frowns, and damn if I don’t want to take it all back and find a way to stay.
She rubs her shoulder, and I wonder if it’s still hurting her. “I’ve lived in this house for six months. Rehung those French doors, painted the kitchen and dining room, and replaced the bathroom sink. But every day, I find something else that’s broken or worn out. If you have some extra time on your hands…I can fill it. And pad your bank account a little.”
My mouth goes dry, shock staling my words until she says my name. “Nash? Does fifty bucks an hour sound like a fair rate?”
A fair rate. To fix things. Damn if I didn’t think for just a minute that she was referring to…other activities.
“I’m not licensed,” I sputter. “If I fuck things up—”
“You won’t.” She scoops up the bowls and pushes to her feet. “After you finish with the heater, we’ll talk about what’s next.”
A little after four, I give up for the day. The entire electrical panel needs to be replaced, and I don’t have the tools or the equipment to do it.
“Raelynn?” I call, finding the living room empty. “You upstairs?”
A shadow moves outside the big picture window. Every muscle in my body tenses until I see a flash of her long, blond hair. She’s crouched next to a set of chairs making some high-pitched noises I can’t understand.
I open the front door, and she jerks to her feet. “Christ on a cracker, Nash. You scared me.”
“Is everything okay?” I shove my hands into my pockets as her cheeks turn bright red.
Shoulders heaving, she drops into one of the chairs. “I don’t know. The cat’s missin’.”
“You have a cat?”
She huffs and shakes her head. “No. He ain’t mine.”
“Then…how is he missing?” I ask.
Raelynn tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Were you in town at Christmas?”
For a beat, I don’t answer. I spent the twenty-fifth at the hostel trying to ignore the ache in my heart from yet another holiday alone.
“I got here in early December. Wanted somewhere warmer than South Dakota.”
“Remember that snowstorm? Six inches on Christmas mornin’. The next day, I went out to shovel the sidewalk, and I spooked this scrawny cat hidin’ under the laurel bushes. I gave him some leftover chicken, and he’s been comin’ around ever since. Until last night.”
As if the cat knows she’s talking about him, he leaps up onto the porch with a scratchy yowl.
“About damn time,” she says, nothing but relief in her tone.
“Hey there, little guy.” I drop to one knee and hold out my hand. He’s all black except for a small patch on his chest of pure white, and he looks up at Raelynn and meows loudly.
“Keep an eye on him? I’ll go get some fresh food.”
Easing myself down onto my ass, I stretch my legs out slowly while Raelynn disappears back into the house. “You got a home?” I ask the cat, who eyes the door like he knows exactly where it leads. “Looks like you want one. Can’t say I blame you.”
He inches closer until his little wet nose presses against my fingers. In under a minute, he’s rolling on the ground while I scratch him behind the ears.
“Here you go.” Raelynn slips through the door and sets a small plate under one of the chairs. The cat attacks the chicken, purring the entire time. “I was worried about you, kiki.”
“Kiki?”
She shrugs. “Growin’ up, my mama called all the ranch cats ‘kikis.’ Since this guy doesn’t have a name…”
