Page 28 of Hand Picked
The answer was that I hadn’t been thinking. Not even a little.
I’d been hungover and hurt and desperate to get something done—tofixsomething, even if it was just putting a tarp on the roof—to make myself feel better.
Clearly, I had been wildly successful.
“Nothing says empowerment like being stranded on your own roof,” I muttered, thinking of the phone I’d left safely in the camper to charge.
I peered over the edge of the roof at the giant snowbank where the ladder had landed and pondered whether the snow would break my fall… or just break me.
It was tempting to jump because I really did not want anyone to find me up there—no, seriously, parents, other than the missing child, the drunken bugle blowing… oh, and that one hilarious time I threw a hissy fit and got stranded on my own portico, I’m the best role model ever!—but if one of my students heard Mr. Williams had jumped off a roof and decided to try it, I’d never forgive myself.
So, instead, I resigned myself to being stuck until Murray came on sheep duty and decided I’d try to enjoy it.
Positive thinking for the win.
I leaned back against the roof, looked up at the sky, and started humming a tune when a deep, conversational voice from way too close below me yelled up.
“‘Sweet Caroline’? You know, I’m beginning to associate that song with terrible decisions.”
I startled so badly I nearly lost my perch.
“Holy shoot. Webb?” I peered over the edge of the roof again, and sure enough, there were the world’s thickest forearms, folded in judgment over the world’s broadest chest. My heart gave a little squeeze that had nothing to do with my situation and everything to do with the memory of Webb’s stony face back at Panini Jack’s. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” He snorted. “You’re on your roof without a ladder, Luke.” There was a tremble of something in his voice, and I couldn’t decide if it was anger or amusement.
God, why did all of my worst and most embarrassing moments happen around this guy?
“Am I?” I said airily. “I hadn’t noticed. I’m enjoying the lovely view. So much… snow.”
“And how are you planning to get down?”
I sniffed. “I’ll figure something out. Eventually. Probably.”
“Fair enough. And when you don’t, I’ll have them inscribe that on your tombstone.Here lies Luke Williams, who would have figured something out… probably, eventually,” he said dryly. “Now, move back from the edge so I can prop the ladder back up there.”
“You know, I’m not certain I’m ready to get down, but thanks anyway.” I stuck my chin in the air stubbornly, though I was pretty sure he couldn’t see me. “I might stay up here a while longer. Doing yoga. Meditating. Expanding my consciousness.”
“If you don’t come down, you won’t get to see what I brought you.”
“You brought me something?” I peeped over the edge again, reluctantly curious. “Is it arsenic?”
He snorted. “No. Jeez.”
“Another Rusty Spike?”
“Definitely not,” he said with feeling. He shaded his eyes as he looked up at me. “I wouldn’t do that to anyone ever again.”
“Even though I’mnothingto you?” I shot back.
Dang it.I hadn’t intended to bring up the scene at breakfast, but apparently I was spending all my shame pennies that afternoon.
Webb hesitated. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded earlier. I was blindsided by the scroll thing. I told you last night that I want to be friends, and I mean it. I just… wasn’t a very good one to you earlier.”
Hmph. “I was blindsided, too. And it’s not like Iwantto be handfasted to you, you know. I barely knew what handfasting was before this morning. Heck, I’m still not sure I know. But if I were going to inadvertently betroth myself to a guy, my baseline minimum standard would be to pick a guy who could have the slightest inkling of attraction for me.”
Webb opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then shut it again. “Can you come down? I’m getting a crick in my neck talking to you.”
I pondered how much I cared about his neck—sadly, a lot—and whether I was ready to face the further embarrassment of being on ground level with him—nope.
