Page 7 of Knot in Bloom
But it’s his forearms that catch my attention. Strong and defined. With a small scar near his wrist that speaks of hands that have built things. Fixed things. When he shifts the tool belt, the movement draws my gaze to his narrow hips.
I have to force myself to look away.
There’s something different about how he carries himself now, too. More settled. Like someone who’s finally figured out where he belongs.
“Sadie Quinn.” His voice carries warmth but there’s an edge there too. A rough concern that makes my pulse stutter. “Aunt Maeve told me what happened. Why didn’t you call?”
I set the notebook down carefully on my counter, my hands suddenly unsteady. “Caleb. How’s civilian life treating you?”
“Don’t change the subject.” He steps into the shop, and I can see the tension in his shoulders. I breathe in his scent immediately. Warm, masculine. Woodsy and rich with hints of leather. Even through my worry about the water situation, my omega instincts respond with gentle recognition. Then interest. “You’ve had no water since yesterday morning. That’s over twenty-four hours, Sadie.”
Heat flushes through my cheeks. “I’ve been managing.”
“Managing?” His voice gets sharper. “You can’t shower. Can’t make coffee. Can’t even use your bathroom properly.” He examines my ceiling with focused attention, but there’s frustration in every line of his body. “Dean told me about your roof situation, but Aunt Maeve had to tell me you’ve been living without water because you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”
I’m suddenly aware I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes. Jeans with a hole near the knee. Sweater that’s seen better days. And yes, I probably smell like someone who’s been washing with bottled water and floral preservative.
“That’s really nice of you to offer, but I’m sure you have other things?—”
“I don’t have other plans.” He moves closer, and I can see genuine concern mixed with exasperation in his dark eyes. “I’m staying at the old Miller place while I figure out what comes next. Just finished processing out of the service yesterday afternoon.”
“That’s a big change. Sixteen years, right?”
“Sixteen years was enough.” He’s already pulling tools from his belt. “First things first, let’s get your water back on. Then we’ll talk about the roof.”
My bank account wins the argument with my pride. “Okay. Yes. I’d appreciate that.”
He moves toward the area where water had been pouring through the ceiling. I try not to notice how he fills my small shop space. How his shoulders look broad under the work shirt. When he crouches down to examine the warped floorboards, then looks up at the ceiling damage, I find myself staring at the flex of muscle in his arms.
“Where exactly was the leak coming from?” All business now, but his voice has gone rougher.
I point to the spot above my display area. He examines it with a flashlight from his tool belt, testing the ceiling tiles and probing the soft spots. His movements are careful. Competent.
When he turns to face me in the small space, we’re suddenly much closer than either of us expected.
“This needs new joists. New insulation. Everything.” His eyes hold mine. I can see the exact moment his gaze drops to my mouth before snapping back up. “It won’t be cheap, Sadie.”
The number he gives me makes my knees wobble. Actually wobble.
“That’s if you hire a contractor.”
“Caleb, I can’t afford?—”
“I know where to get most of these materials. Salvage yard has good lumber, and I’ve got connections from working on houses around town before I enlisted. Materials cost would be maybe a third of retail. Labor’s free.”
“Let me help an old friend?” He turns to face me directly. Too close. Close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “You used to follow Dean and me around every summer. Figure I can help you out now.”
The memory hits hard. Me at ten. Stubborn and determined. Trailing after the coolest teenagers in town like a lost puppy.
“You remember that?”
“I remember you tagging along everywhere. Always trying to keep up.” His voice gets quieter. “Didn’t expect to come back and find you all grown up.”
That moment of shock and recognition. Sudden awareness that the boy I used to follow around had become a man who could make my knees forget how to work.
Heat races through my system.Again.
My heart pounds faster. My scent changes without permission. Honeysuckle blooming sweeter, vanilla turning warm and rich. He breathes deeper, catching the shift. His own warm, woodsy smell grows richer in response.
