I dug them out of my bag and handed themover.
Once he’d driven away, I said, “Sorry aboutthat.”
“’Boutwhat?”
“Jeb’s strangebehavior.”
August smiled as he lugged the sanders past the wisteria vines wrapped around the porch’s beams. “I’m used to people reacting that way. They see us coming and think we’re either going to steal their job or present them with a heftybill.”
We carried the tools into the house that looked larger now that the furniture had been disposed of—Jeb had gotten some Boulders together over the weekend to clear the space. He’d asked me what I wanted to keep, and I said nothing. Not that there had been much left over from Mom and Dad; the previous owners had stripped thehouse.
As August set everything down, he stared around the bare space. “Never thought I’d come backhere.”
“You and meboth.”
He turned his attention to me. “You sure you want to livehere?”
“I’m not really sure of much these days, but I don’t see myself staying in Jeb’s apartment forever. Besides, I want the forest on my doorstep. I want to be able to shift and come home without running into anyhumans.”
I gazed out at the woods cinching the property and at the grayed picnic table buried in overgrown grass. I could still picture the boisterous meals we’d shared, could still hear my mother debating the merits of medicinal plants with Isobel, and my dad discussing inventions that would revolutionize the timber industry with Nelson while I swung on the tire swing August had fashioned forme.
God. . . he really had been such an integral part of mylife.
August touched my arm. “Dimples?”
I swallowed and pushed away the memory before it slicked my eyes. “When are you starting construction onyourhome?”
“When I havetime.”
“Do you have a design inmind?”
He lowered his eyes to a dark knot in a floorboard. “I did. I’m not sure of itanymore.”
“If you need input, I’ll gladly offer my consultingservices.”
He nodded as though filing my offer away in a drawer he was never planning on opening. I supposed he didn’t need the input of a girl with no experience orskill.
“Ready for your Parquet 101 class?” he asked after amoment.
I smiled. “Iam.”
After quickly vacuuming a corner of the living room, he showed me how to work both sanders. Even though there shouldn’t have been anything remotely sexy about sanders, watching him operate the machines wasmesmerizing.
“How old is Sienna?” The question popped out of my mouth before I could think better of bringing up hisex.
He flicked the big drum sander off. “What made you think ofher?”
“Youmade me think ofher.”
“I’d rather if I didn’t make you think of her.” He straightened and rubbed his palms against his jeans. “She turned twenty-one back in January.Why?”
I shrugged. “Justwondering.”
He eyed me. “You’re never just wondering anything.” He came a little closer, still skimming his hands over his jeans. “Age is just a number, Ness. I know some thirty-year-olds who act like teenagers and some teenagers who act like adults. What you’ve lived through, it made you mature faster.” In a voice so low goose bumps flourished on my bare arms, he added, “Not that it matters anymore, considering how you feel aboutme.”
For a moment, he didn’t move, and neither did I, but then his gaze dropped to my mouth, and he inclined his head, and I thought that if he bridged the distance, I’d toss Liam’s ban and Evelyn’s opinion to the wind and confess mylie.
A ringing erupted between us. He shut his eyes and took a stepback.
