Page 67 of Ripped & Shipped
@Fab-U-lous_EllaMae:Thanks! Kisses! Looks like it’s only the porch, thankfully.
@youdoyouboooo:Candles and yoga – that’s a no-go for me. But glad you’re safe.
@ImSOBeefy:How can you still be so beautiful after enduring such an ordeal. Well, easy. It’s you. But babe, that guy again? I sure hope he’s your brother. I don’t like sharing. I know you understand me. Let’s meet up. I’ll kiss your boo-boos.
@KeepingItFabu:Totally did this … not this, but yeah. Set my house on fire using a wok once. Grabbed the extinguisher and sprayed like a madman. That white stuff was everywhere. End of the day, I ruined my beef and broccoli and our stove top. But everything else survived.
CHAPTER23
Ella Mae
For the next week,it’s like I have a shadow named Chris St. James. I get it. The fire was scary, even though it was small. In hindsight, I really was stupid. I probably could have stomped it out, or turned on the garden hose and sprayed it. But I freaked out, and my brain locked up. It all happened so fast: Skittering critters. Tipping candles. Flames in more than one location.
These daily appearances of Chris’ aren’t even stealth. He will “just happen” to show up in front of the house, or at the coffee shop, or around town wherever I am to check up on me. He always asks,How are you, Ella Mae?with this sincere look that cuts through all my layers and wraps around my heart. I tell him I’m fine. Then I make a joke, or ask him if he has nothing better to do than follow me around like a stray dog. He either lingers or leaves. I’m not sure if I’m annoyed, flattered, or just confused.
And now, my big, burly shadow is just beyond our front porch doing whatever he has to do to replace the burnt floorboards. I guess he’s a handyman? I don’t know. I’ve seen him doing odd jobs around town. I get the feeling he does something else too, but it’s obvious the details of his life are kept intentionally hidden, at least from me they are.
The owners of the house said their insurance covers the repair. They informed me they hired someone to come this week. And, there he is. Right outside my front room window, bright and early this morning, his shirt stretching over his muscles as he saws wood he has placed over two sawhorses in the front yard.
I’m doing yoga. Not filming. I’m still a little rattled. Not that I’d tell anyone besides Meg. I’ve apologized to her at least a hundred times. She finally put an apology jar on the counter, saying,If you apologize again, you have to drop a dollar in the jar for every ‘I’m sorry’out of your mouth.
Meg walks into the front room and looks out the window. “I’ve seen worse views first thing in the morning.”
“Are you ogling Chris?”
“Not exactly. Joe has my heart. But admit it, Chris is someone you can’t easily ignore. I’m just appreciating his hard work.”
“What hard work is that?”
“All the effort he obviously puts in to stay in peak condition.”
“That’s so objectifying.” I chuckle.
“Okay. And, he seems to be doing a very good job measuring and cutting boards.”
“As if you’d know.”
Meg yawns and places the back of her hand over her mouth. “I have to get ready for work. Make sure Chris has what he needs.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“You know. Like if he needs food or something to drink, or has to use the restroom while he’s here.”
I stare at Meg. “His house is only a few blocks away.”
“Be neighborly. That’s all I’m saying.”
“The man has practically shown up everywhere I’ve been all week.”
“That’s sweet, right?”
“In a way, I guess. But it’s also a bit much.”
“You don’t even know when a guy’s into you.”
“He’s so not into me—at all. He’s just a hero on a mission. And I guess I’m grateful he’s looking out for me, but it’s also …”
“Also?”
