Maggie grinned, ready for Cash to verbally knock this guy out.
“If you send another false inspection my way, I’ll sue you for harassment. And if that doesn’t scare you, then try to remember that the mayor recruited me for his charity softball team. I don’t need a reason to call and shoot the bull, but I’d be happy to tell him how city funds are being used. Am I clear?”
The line died.
Cash grunted and shoved his phone in his pocket. “I’m sorry, Mags.”
“It’s not your fault.” She rubbed his arm while taking in the carnage. “But Cash, where are we going to live?”
“We?” The word was a strangled mess.
She paused before answering, feeling like this minute was larger than the house and living arrangements. This big, strong man who knocked out walls and cherished antique rolling desks stood with his shoulders pulled in and a void of hope in his eyes.
“Did you think I would leave?” she asked, dumbfounded that the thought had even crossed his mind. They weremarried. Sure, it wasn’t a traditional marriage and they slept in different bedrooms, but that didn’t make their vows any less binding. Especially after the kisses they’d shared and the promise they’d made to give this—to givethem—a chance.
It was binding for her. He seemed to have doubts.
“Why wouldn’t you?” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “The deal was my kitchen for your hand. I don’t have a kitchen anymore.”
“Nor a bathroom, but lucky you I grew up camping.” She shoved his shoulder. The brief contact was enough to send a shot of warmth up her arm, and suddenly she needed to be closer to him. Sliding her hand along his back, she leaned into him, hip to hip. “Hold me, you big dork. I’m homeless again, and I want a hug.”
A soft chuckle reverberated in his chest, and his body relaxed. He pulled his hands from his pockets and held her to him, going the extra mile and dropping a kiss in her hair. “I’ll fix this.”
She nodded, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt rub her cheek. “I know. I trust you.” The words were out before she thought about them, and she instantly questioned their sincerity. For the last few weeks, she’d done everything she could to avoid these types of feelings for Cash. Today was a huge step in taking down her walls and allowing herself to feel that trust. It was real—though fragile. Which in turn made her feel fragile.
“You pack. I’ll be back.” He released her, and the loss of his body was like being ripped out of a warm bed on a winter morning.
“But … Where are we going to live?” she pressed. They hadn’t actually solved that problem, and it wasn’t something they could put off—not unless she wanted to sleep in his truck, which she wasn’t a big fan of. It was summer and hot and sticky, and they were on the edge of town surrounded by woods.
Cash half-turned, giving her a grin that said he had this all figured out. “You’ll see.”
She grinned, a shot of happiness racing through her veins at the sight of his smile back on his face.
He left, and she hugged herself. “Shoot! I shouldn’t have told him I can camp.” Her arms fell to her sides. He’d probably come back with a tent and sleeping bags. While the idea was … cozy … and made her cheeks warm, she had no desire to spend the next three months cooking over a fire. Perhaps she should have been a little more specific about what she considered a home.
Chapter 14
When Cash pulled into the homestead—new home in tow—he grinned. Maggie’s name for the house was growing on him. His crew was out front, drinking sodas and keeping Maggie entertained. Her suitcase was on the front porch, the handle extended like she was ready to grab it at a moment’s notice and hightail it out of town.
He ran his hand down his face. The fear that she would leave had been incapacitating. He’d shaken deep inside and had only kept his boots in place because he’d promised her that she could be the one to leave him. That was their deal, even though it almost killed him to keep it.
How had she ever survived what he’d done to her? He hadn’t even walked a mile in her shoes as the one left behind, not a step, and he’d almost been broken. A whole new appreciation for her willingness to marry him after what he’d done grew deep inside. She was definitely the better person.
Pastor Powell would like her. He grinned at the thought of introducing her to Seth and Evie. Although going to church hadn’t been on his priority list lately, he felt the loss of quiet time to take in God’s word and feel His holiness.
He pulled the truck and camper trailer close to the house and the waiting crew. Maggie’s eyes were all over the trailer, her interest evident. He chuckled to himself. When she’d mentioned camping, he’d thought of the camper he’d bought to live in when he worked on jobs out of town. Staying on-site was a great way to save on gas and scare off vandals.
He’d had it in storage for a few months. Parking next to the house, he got out and took a look. It was small, older. He’d bought it used and put in a new mattress. Maggie could have that. He’d take the fold-out couch. They’d be closer than they’d been in the homestead, but he couldn’t help that.
“What do you think?” he asked as she approached. “It’s not the Hilton, but it has a stove.” He rushed to open the door and jumped inside. Removing a panel below the fridge, he felt the trailer tip slightly as she climbed in. “I just have to turn on the gas and you’ll have propane in no time.” He kept his eyes on the lever, waiting to hear the soft hiss that told him things were working. There. That’d do it.
Maggie stood just inside the doorway, her shoulders thrown back like she’d been handed a new challenge. His stomach went queasy. Darn it all, marriage wasn’t supposed to be this hard. They’d had a plan, and it would have worked and everything would be fine if that darn Mark Murdock wasn’t trying to steal his house.
He turned to the two-burner stove, flipped on the switch, and used a match from the cupboard above to light the flame. It sputtered and burned and was completely pathetic compared to the stove inside the house. The house he couldn’t repair until after the mold remediation company completed their work in two weeks.
“It’s pathetic.” He dug his fingers in his hair.
Maggie placed a hand on his upper arm, stilling the turmoil and self-doubt inside of him. “Did you know there’s a whole movement on RV living? It’s hugely popular on YouTube, and tapping into it could be open a new market for my blog.”
