Page 24 of Flirting With Forever
He knocked and called her name, but she didn’t hear him, seemingly lost doing her thing and making nice, neat stacks. A chuckle left him when he spotted the label maker lying by her hip. He remembered buying one years ago but hadn’t seen it for a long while.
He called her name again but then entered the space and walked closer when she still didn’t hear him. He’d just opened his mouth to say her name again when she apparently sensed him and her reflexes kicked in. Gasping, she reared back and threw the box she held at him.
“Crap! Gage.”
She yanked out her earbuds as she sucked in a breath, glaring at him before apparently realizing her response was an overreaction.
Her face heated up with a bright pink flush.
“I’m sorry. You— You startled me, and I just… Didn’t your mother teach you how to knock?”
The box she’d thrown had glanced off his knee and fallen to the floor, the cardboard lid opening to scatter finishing nails everywhere. He stayed motionless as seconds ticked by and only then lifted the mug he’d brought for her. “I did. And I said your name twice, too, but you didn’t hear me. I’m thinking you don’t need this now considering your throwing arm. I might bruise,” he teased.
She scrubbed a hand over her face and shoved her curly hair back, grimacing.
“I’m sorry. And I’ll clean it up, of course.”
Gage squatted down, making a show out of holding out the mug as a peace offering. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
She accepted the gift and grimaced again before taking a fortifying sip.
“You’ve been busy.” One glance revealed just how much she’d accomplished in her hours after working at the rentals building that week and this morning. The containers on one wall of the room were now labeled with color coordinated sticky notes, and small boxes like the one she’d thrown at him were individually labeled with small white strips. “Is that a spreadsheet?”
A huff of incredulous laughter left him at the sight of her computer sitting off to the side.
“Yeah, why? I like spreadsheets. What’s wrong with spreadsheets? Don’t you want to know what you have, how much you have, and where it’s located?”
He’d love to be that organized, but with his crazy schedule, that had never been possible. At least not without working twenty-four hours a day. “This is fantastic, Merida.”
He straightened and turned, taking in her handiwork before moving closer to get a better look of the organized row along the wall. She’d gathered and labeled the AC filters and random home maintenance items, like batteries, light bulbs, door locks and keys, into bins. And that was just the start. There was a container for paint brushes and rollers and pans and others for Christmas lights sorted by color and size.
“Once I get everything labeled and counted, I can cross reference the items with your regular clients so that a quick search gives you everything you’ve used at their property in the past. It doesn’t mean you won’t have to think on your feet or need other things to do a job, but at least you’ll be able to see filters and things you’ve needed at that residence before you go, which might help.”
A grin tugged at his lips, and he turned to face her. “This is great.” Part of him wondered if it would remain organized once it was done, but he’d enjoy it for as long as it lasted.
“Good. Glad you like it.”
Their gazes locked and held, and he found himself lost in the depths of her green eyes. Seconds passed, but he didn’t look away. Couldn’t. But the moment didn’t feel awkward as tension grew between them.
Finally, she blinked and glanced down as she took a breath, swiftly grabbing the label maker off the floor. He wondered if she considered it a weapon, like the box she’d thrown at him.
“I should… I should get back to it. Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll start making room in the garage for this stuff,” he said, waving a hand at the containers she’d marked. “That way we can free up more room in here.”
“No need,” she said with a shake of her head. “I mean, you can if you want, of course. It would make for a good income stream if you rented it out. But don’t do it because of me. Won’t be here long, remember?”
Yeah, he remembered. Just until after the hurricane hit—or didn’t.
But for the first time since he’d found himself with a houseguest, he realized he really didn’t mind the company.
The weekend passed in a blur of organizing and salacious thoughts about her boss.
Because that look? That moment when Gage had held her gaze for so long, she’d found herself barely breathing? Yeah, that was…off-putting but not in a bad way. It wasn’t the only time it had happened, either.
They’d spent the weekend working side by side. Gage had taken a few breaks to respond to phone calls and prescheduled jobs, but for the most part, they spent the time moving stuff to the garage once she’d sorted and logged it.
He’d teased her by calling her Merida repeatedly. And saved her from being bonked on the head when the box she tried to stack slid in the wrong direction. The move had left them standing back to front, Gage’s arms and body wrapped around hers for precious seconds that sent her pulse galloping and goose bumps sliding along her skin.
