Page 8 of My Favorite Hero

I reminded myself it wasn’t my business.

Then another thought hit me.

Did she have towels if she wanted a shower? Soap?

How would she make coffee in the morning?

Did she drink coffee?

I cursed and sat up, yanking on my hair.

Did she lock the door?

Would the creaks and groans of an older house worry her?

Did she have some pain meds to make her back hurt less?

“Jesus, shut up!” I snarled to myself, once again taking my frustrations out on my pillow and trying to relax. I shut my eyes and sighed. Counted to ten. Then one hundred.

Did she have a pillow? A blanket? The nights were still chilly since summer hadn’t officially begun.

With a low growl, I sat back up, listening. Earlier, I had heard the water running and the muted sounds of her moving around. Now, it was quiet, which meant she was fine.

Right?

“None of my business,” I muttered.

I thought of her indignation about being female and needing help. She would probably laugh if she knew I was at all concerned.

I remembered her teasing, the thought of it making me smile now. How she didn’t take any of my rebuffs to heart. In fact, my gruffness seemed to delight her somehow.

I hadn’t always been this grumpy. But too many hurts and disappointments had made me bitter, and I was no longer the man I had been years ago.

I wondered how old Casey was. I guessed about twenty-eight, which would make her seven years younger than my thirty-five.

Although some days I felt more like sixty-five.

I shook my head as my phone buzzed with a text. I looked at the screen, nodding to myself at the reply to the message I had sent earlier to one of my firefighter buddies, asking if he’d be available in the morning to help hang some cabinets. Mark’s affirmative reply and confirming he’d be here at ten was good. With the two of us, we’d get the few cabinets installed on that wall quickly. The counter was already waiting. I could get the sink plumbed, and Casey would have a working kitchen. Once that job was complete, we wouldn’t have to see each other much. I had already painted the upstairs a neutral color and done the same in the living room and kitchen. I hadn’t gotten around to the front entranceway yet, but I would arrange a time to do so.

I lay back down, rested my head on my bent arm, staring at the ceiling. I had no idea how long she planned on staying. Tomorrow, I would go through the lists of rules and her rent. Give her boundaries. Tell her mine.

She’d simply be the tenant next door, and I could ignore her for the most part.

Satisfied I had it all worked out, I finally fell asleep.

In the morning, I was groggy and in a bad mood. My dreams had been fractured and odd. Blue eyes, dark hair and a teasing voice kept intruding. Lou’s voice would suddenly fill my head.

“Keep an open mind. Be patient.”

Had she been talking about Casey? What did she mean?

Surely to God, she didn’t think we’d be friends. She knew there were few people I allowed to get that close.

I sighed, pouring a coffee and taking a long sip. I had heard noises from next door, so I knew Casey was awake. I was sure I’d heard her SUV leave at one point but hadn’t gone out to check. It was none of my business what she was doing. She knew I’d be there to work on the kitchen, and I had a key.

I finished my coffee and grabbed some tools, looking at the time. It was just past nine, so that gave me an hour to get things organized before Mark arrived.

I used the back door, knocking first and, when there was no answer, used my key to get inside. I set down my tools and looked around. I was surprised to see the old wallpaper torn off the kitchen wall already. I frowned at the paint cans I could see in the living room, and I went to investigate. I stopped, seeing the pillow and blanket folded neatly on the old sofa.