Page 12 of Take My Heart
‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s broken. I’ll have to shovel a path to get us in.’ I get out of the truck and stand at the door. ‘You sure you don’t want to go inside?’
‘I can wait. The blanket’s keeping me warm.’
I shut the door and reach into the bed of the truck and grab the shovel. I have a snowblower but it’s being repaired. It was supposed to be ready to pick up this week, but the part didn’t come in.
How did this happen? I just did a thorough check of my equipment. Maybe it’s something minor like a loose wire. Right now, the plow is too covered in snow to see anything. I’ll park it in the garage, let the snow melt, then come out later and see if it works. If it doesn’t, I’ll call Nick and see if he can figure out what’s wrong with it.
The plow has to work. It’s my only source of income and today is the first big snowfall of the year. I’ve gone months without making money because the stupid weather hasn’t cooperated. This blizzard is my chance to finally bring in some income and now my freaking plow won’t work.
And if that isn’t bad enough, I suddenly have a roommate. A girl who ditched her own wedding. She’s trying to keep it together, but I can tell she’s about to break down. She’s just got that look. It’s understandable. I’m sure running out on your wedding messes with your head. But the last thing I need right now is some girl on the verge of an emotional breakdown living in my house. I have enough drama in my life. I don’t need this girl giving me more.
Chapter 3
Kate
As I sit in the truck watching Brody shovel the snow, I replay the day in my head. I woke up this morning thinking I’d be Cam’s wife and now we’re not even dating. He’ll probably never speak to me again, especially when he finds out what I did to his car.
It was the right decision, I tell myself. Sure, we had some good times, but Cam just wasn’t the guy for me. I could feel it in my heart, in my soul. But for months I ignored those feelings, choosing instead to believe what everyone told me—that Cam was a great guy who would make a wonderful husband.
Brody opens my door, snow flying off his hat and coat, his face red from the cold. ‘I made a path for you to walk.’ He nods toward the open garage door. ‘Go ahead and go in.’
‘That’s okay. I can wait.’
‘You sure? It’s warmer in the house.’
‘I’m good.’ I smile at him. ‘But thanks.’
He closes the door and gets back to shoveling. He’s a good-looking guy, in a rugged, outdoorsy type of way. He’s wearing a black coat with a flannel shirt underneath and faded jeans that are torn on the bottom. Cam wouldn’t be caught dead wearing flannel, and if his jeans were torn, he’d throw them out. He believes how you dress affects how people see you, and since he strives to appear successful, his clothes reflect that. He buys the most expensive brands and if something doesn’t fit him perfectly, he gets it tailored. His polished look is what originally drew me to him, but then I started dating him and became annoyed at how long it took him to get ready. He took longer than me.
Brody’s in front of the truck now, clearing a path wide enough to pull the truck into the garage. There must be at least a foot of snow piled up, and it’s the heavy, wet kind. Brody pushes the shovel through it like it’s no effort at all, then scoops it up and tosses it in a pile at the edge of the driveway. As he returns to the front of the truck, he glances up at me and smiles.
I smile back, feeling a little guilty I’m sitting here in the warm truck while he’s out there freezing to death. But he’s probably used to the cold if his job is cleaning up snow.
As he continues to shovel, I look at his house. It’s a small, one-story house with light gray siding and black shutters. The colors are kind of drab. It’d look better painted a grayish blue with the door painted black to match the shutters, or red for a punch of color. I feel a surge of excitement imagining it. I always get this way when I think about how I’d make something over. I’m obsessed with those home design shows. I like to imagine what I would do if I were the designer transforming someone’s house.
I wanted to study design in college, but my parents neverwould’ve allowed it. They demanded I pick a major that would lead to a good-paying career. So I majored in business and got a job doing financial planning for small businesses. The pay is great, but I don’t like the job. I used to tell myself it was only temporary, just until I married Cam and we had our first child. Now that’s not happening and I’m already dreading having to return to work in three weeks, the time I took off for the honeymoon I’m not going on.
Brody opens the truck door. ‘Okay, we should be good now.’ He tosses the shovel in the back, gets in the driver’s seat, and pulls the truck into the garage.
As the garage door closes, I get out and meet Brody at the door that goes to the house.
‘Remember a guy lives here,’ he says.
‘Meaning what?’
‘Meaning it’s not clean. And I don’t decorate.’
‘I’m sure it’s fine.’ I follow him inside to the laundry room, which is just inside the door. A coat and some shoes are on the floor, like Brody just tossed them there. He takes off his coat and hat and sets them on top of the washing machine.
‘You can leave your shoes here to dry off,’ he tells me.
Holding onto the washing machine for balance, I reach down and take off my shoes.
Brody laughs when he sees my sneakers. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘I wore them to the church this morning,’ I explain as I look for a place to put them. ‘I didn’t want to walk through the snow in heels.’
