Page 9 of Solid Foundation
I snorted. “Hardly. I was more thinking about whether you could handle whatever’s lurking in there.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from whatever’s inside.” He winked and placed the box on the ancient mattress, riddled with holes, that rested on the rusting bed frame. “I’m going to open it anyway. If you’re afraid, stand back.”
I didn’t appreciate his words, even if he was trying to be friendly. “Afraid?” I snorted. “No chance.”
He fiddled with the latch to open the box, but it wouldn’t give. “Do you have, like, a tool or something on you?”
“A tool,” I muttered, rolling my own eyes. “Of course I have a tool or something.” I pulled out my pocketknife.
“What’s that going to do?” His voice was thick with skepticism.
I gripped the folded-up knife firmly and tapped the latch a few times with one end. I had faith that it would give if I did it just right. Without warning Max, I lifted the knife a few inches and smashed it down on the latch. Wood splintered and gave. Afew more strikes, and the wood gave entirely, the latch and lock tumbling onto the mattress.
“Ready?” His grin was infectious, his giddiness contagious.
When our eyes met, heat flooded my cheeks. To deflect, I rolled my eyes again at the theatrics, but I was more amused than annoyed. “Just open the damn thing so we can move on.” I had things to do and I was ready to get back to work.Thisisyour work now, a voice reminded me.
He sighed, shoulders dipping a little, and a pang of guilt hit me square in the chest. “Fine. Spoilsport.”
Chapter Six
Max
Iglanced again at Jake before I opened the box. He was about my height, butbuilt, presumably from the years of swinging a hammer or whatever it was he did to fix things. Either way, I wouldn’t mind if he came by the rental house and fixed mine. I was getting definite vibes from him. I’d caught his eye a few times that day and he’d blushed and looked away. Heseemedinterested, but who knew? Construction workers weren’t exactly famous for being out and proud.
Fine, whatever, I thought. It didn’t change the fact that I was almost certain I’d caught him checking me out when I’d arrived. His short dark hair was pushed back, away from his eyes, and tattoos covered his forearms. What looked like two-day-old stubble covered his face. I wondered what that stubble would feel like between my—no. Nope. I couldnotlet myself fantasize about the hot, irritable construction foreman I’d have to work side-by-side with for the next two-ish months. No way.
“Well, are you going to open it?” Jake barked.
“Fine, Jesus, quit rushing me.” I attempted to lift the lid, but the hinges protested as I did. The latch was gone, but the hinges held the box mostly closed anyway.
“Need help?” When I looked at Jake, he was smirking at me, one eyebrow raised.
“I can get it,” I muttered, hooking my fingers between the lid and the bottom of the box. After a little more tugging, the screws holding the hinges in place splintered the wood and the box was open.
Side-by-side, we peered into the box. It was full of papers, faded and yellowed with age. I picked up the top one and unfolded it, my gaze scanning the note it contained.
December 10, 1921
Dearest Nathan,
I received your letter yesterday. I could scarcely wait to hear how you have thought of me, and I read it immediately, but Father has kept me so busy that I’m just finding time to reply. He must know that something is amiss, as he is continually trying to find new chores for me to complete. For now, I have escaped to the quiet of my room, finally able to put pen to paper and speak my mind to you.
I miss you terribly. I’ve been so lonely without your laughter to keep my spirits up, without your strong arms to hold me, and without your tender kisses to, well, I’m sure you can imagine what I’d like your kisses to do. Life is not easy on the farm, less so without you. I can only pray that one day, we will be together again.
Of course I remember your last visit. It feels so long ago that we stole away to that smoky room and sipped on whiskey and held hands in the open. It was so thrilling and so terrifying at the same time. I wonder if people like us will ever be allowed to love openly. I can only hope.
I had a dream about you last night. You were here with me, and we took a blanket and spread it under the stars. We watched and made wishes and then made love, much the way we did all those months ago when you were here last. I woke in a sweat, barely able to breathe when I realized it was all in my imagination.
Tomorrow is the winter social I told you about. Mother and Father expect me to take your cousin Dot. I’d rather have you instead, but I know that’s not possible. Perhaps one day.
Yours,
Freddie
“It’s a letter,” I said in a daze. My heart was pounding and my stomach twisted. A love letter. It made me ache with longing and sorrow. Sorrow for the man who’d written the letter, and longing for a love of my own.Do not look at the hot construction worker, I told myself.You have to work together, there will be no fraternizing, no matter how much you want to.
“I can see that. Can we move on now?”
