Page 7 of The Summer Dare
Hopping off the deck, I rush to close the distance between us. “Here, let me help you,” I offer, reaching for a bag to lighten her load.
“Thanks,” she mutters, handing over another, then readjusting the load she’s carrying to balance the weight of her purchases.
“Have you ever thought of driving to the store?” I ask, taking another bag from her when I see she’s struggling to open the door.
Blowing out a breath of air, she huffs, “Yes.” Then she quickly continues, “I only went to pick up a few things—and obviously, things got a little out of hand.”
“You could’ve called,” flies out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
What the hell am I doing?
She stops in her tracks and stares at me as if I’ve said the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard.
“Or not…” I mutter. “You go right ahead and heft your groceries over a mile home. Who am I to stop you?”
Eying me suspiciously, she sets a bag on the kitchen counter. “Would you really have done that?”
“Why not?” I shrug. It’s not like I’m a complete ass or anything. Besides who the hell loads themselves down with groceries without bringing their car?
I haven’t seen a car in the driveway, so maybe she doesn’t have one.
“Uh, you don’t know me from Adam and you’re under no obligation to do anything but renovate our house.”
She’s right. I don’t. Yet, I admit another truth. “It doesn’t mean I want you to struggle.”
“Well… thanks… I guess.” Then she shakes her head and mutters, “Next time I’ll remember my car. I doubt I’ll have feeling in my fingers for the rest of the day.” She busies herself by putting away the groceries, and I’m left rocking on my heels.
“Well, I’ll just leave you to it. That siding won’t remove itself.”
Looking up from her bag, she gives me a beautiful smile. “Thanks, Ryan.”
For a moment we just stare at one another.
My mouth dries and I get lost in the moment far longer than I should. But before I can say anything else entirely inappropriate, I simply nod once and high tail it out of there.
Needing to get as far away from her as possible, I beeline it to my truck and grab the water bottle I’d packed this morning. Taking a large swig from my hydro flask, I’m relieved to find the water still as icy as when I’d filled it this morning. It does nothing to quench my sudden thirst. But the coolness manages to clear my head.
Staring at the house before me I nearly spill the contents ofthe bottle when the sudden shrill of my phone fills the cab. Hastily, I grab for my phone without looking at the caller ID. “Murdock.”
“Bad time?” My father’s voice booms through the phone.
“Nope. Just grabbing a drink of water,” I admit, taking a steadying breath.
“Jared’s not gonna be available until tomorrow. You alright for the rest of the day?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a few things I can work on before calling it a day. Will he make it in tomorrow?”
“Not sure. His younger brother was in some sort of trouble and Jared had to take him outside of Portland to get things sorted. I didn’t get the details, but he mentioned he’d be back in a day or two.”
“Welp,” I say, running a hand over my jaw. “I’ve got plenty to do. As you always say, family comes first, so I don’t begrudge him for steppin’ in.”
“Need me to drive out there to give you a hand?”
Dad’s doing a job about an hour away and there’s nothing he can help me with today, so I let him off the hook. “Nah. I’m good. I’ll reach out to Jared when I get home this evening to make a plan for the rest of this week.”
“Alright.” Dad’s deep voice quips. “You know where to find me. I’ll check in with you later.”
Before I can even respond, the line goes dead. Knowing Dad, he’s likely already onto his next call by now. We’ve undertaken a lot of jobs this summer and we’re stretched pretty thin for a small company. But it’s nothing we haven’t handled before.
