Page 6 of Forever with the Mountain Man
"The room should be ready first thing tomorrow," he says, his voice carefully neutral again.
"Perfect." I busy myself repacking the cooler, not trusting myself to look at him. "That's perfect."
But, I can't shake the feeling that something important just slipped through my fingers.
four
Finn
Iworkeduntilwellpast sunset, pushing myself harder than necessary. Anything to stop thinking about the way Caroline looked at me during lunch, the way her eyes went soft when I almost touched her face. The way she cared enough to bring me food in the middle of a heat wave.
She's getting under my skin, and that's dangerous for both of us.
By the time I locked up the building, my hands are steady again and my head is clear. Tomorrow I'll finish her classroom, hand over the keys, and put some professional distance between us. She deserves better than a forty-year-old construction worker with nothing to offer but calloused hands and a modest bank account.
When I arrive at the school Friday morning, Caroline is already there, sitting on the front steps with two cups of coffee and a box of pastries from the bakery in town.
"Thought you might want breakfast," she says, standing as I approach. She's wearing a yellow sundress that makes her look like sunshine, and her smile is shy but determined.
"Caroline..." I start, but she cuts me off.
"Before you say anything, let me just apologize for yesterday. I overstepped. You're here to do a job, and I shouldn't have—"
"Stop." The word comes out rougher than I intended. "You didn't overstep. You were being kind."
"Oh." She blinks up at me, and I can see the relief in her brown eyes. "Good. I was worried I'd made things awkward."
Everything about this woman makes things awkward. The way she cares about everyone around her. The way she brought me lunch without expecting anything in return. The way she looks at me like I'm someone worth looking at.
"Coffee smells good," I say, accepting the cup she offers. It's perfectly prepared—strong and black, exactly how I like it.
We sit on the steps together, sharing the quiet morning before the heat becomes unbearable. Caroline tells me about her lesson plans, her excitement about the new classroom, her hopes for the school year. I find myself relaxing despite my better judgment, drawn in by her enthusiasm.
"What made you want to teach kindergarten?" I ask.
"I love that age," she says immediately. "Five-year-olds still believe in magic, you know? They think anything is possible. They haven't learned to be afraid of trying new things or worried about what other people think." She pauses, her smile turning wistful. "I guess I want to protect that wonder for as long as I can."
There's something pure about her dedication that makes me want to be a better man. The kind of man who deserves someone like her.
"Your parents must be proud," I say.
"Dad is. Mom died when I was twelve, so it's just been me and him." She's quiet for a moment. "He worries about me sometimes. I think he thinks I'm too sheltered, too trusting."
"Are you?"
She considers this seriously. "Maybe. But I'd rather be too trusting than too cynical. The world has enough people who expect the worst from each other."
This woman is going to be the death of me.
I finish my coffee and stand, needing to put some distance between us before I do something we'll both regret. "Should have your room finished by noon."
"Really?" She jumps up, nearly bouncing with excitement. "That's wonderful! I can't wait to see it completed."
Three hours later, I'm installing the last switch plate when she appears in the doorway with her arms full of boxes and bags.
"Is it okay if I start bringing things in?" she asks.
I nod, stepping back to survey the finished space. New flooring, fresh paint, updated electrical, built-in storage cubbies that will hold backpacks and art supplies. It's some of my best work, and I find myself hoping she'll be happy here.
