Page 25 of What it Takes
“I always thought people used those koozies to hide the fact they’re beer cans, not sodas.”
“Some probably do. I use them because they keep my soda cold longer and I hate when it’s hot and the cans sweat and I get condensation on my hand and in the bottom of the cup holder.”
She bit back the apology that sprang to her lips. She’d already said she was sorry and Ben didn’t seem all that perturbed by it.
“Ready for the big day tomorrow?” he asked, and she appreciated the subject change.
“As ready as we can be, I guess. Although, every time I turn around, Rosie thinks of one more thing. Maybe that’s why I walked so far.” She chuckled. “Earlier today, she remembered the inflatable pool she’d bought online for the babies. She put the box in the barn, but forgot to put blowing it up and filling it with water on any of her lists.”
He was wearing shorts tonight, she realized. And the sun might be on its way down, but there was still plenty of light for her to appreciate the well-toned curve of his calf muscle. She’d seen him in jeans and in navy cargo pants, but this was the first time she’d seen his legs. Her fingers practically itched to skim over the light sprinkle of hair, so she turned her gaze back to the windshield.
“You haven’t been around much,” she said, and then she wanted to slap herself in the forehead. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“I’ve been busy, I guess. And I’ve been helping my dad with some yard projects my mom’s been after him to get done.”
“Do you live close to them? I mean, I know Whitford’s a small town, but it seems to have a lot of land area and the houses are spread out.”
“I live in the apartment over my parents’ garage.”
She smiled, but didn’t tease him about living with his parents. She wasn’t sure her teasing would come across as that, and she’d already stumbled with the drinking and driving thing.
“I guess that makes you a handy yard work assistant,” she said. “Being so close.”
“Too handy sometimes.”
When he turned on his blinker and started braking, she realized they were already back at the lodge. The realization they’d be parting ways in a few moments made her wish she could think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. Instead, they drove in silence until he pulled up to the side of the barn and killed the engine. Then, as she got out, he took the envelope from the visor and did the same.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said. “I’d still be out on the trail in the woods if you hadn’t come along.”
“You would have been fine.” He turned and smiled at her. “But it was nice to have company for a few minutes.”
She thought that would be the end of it, but when she started walking, he fell in beside her. “You don’t have to walk me to my camper. I promise it’s safe, and it looks like you have business in the house.” She waved a hand at the envelope.
“Oh, I know you’re safe. I was thinking, though, that I should check the bolts in your chairs. Sometimes they loosen up during initial use and it’s a good idea to give them each an extra tightening just to be sure.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t even thought of that. “They’ll just loosen up on their own?”
He shrugged. “They don’t necessarily loosen up, but sometimes they seem fully seated until you use the chairs and the boards shift. It’ll only take a minute.”
When they reached her camper, she went inside to grab her tool kit, and when she went back outside, she found him sitting in one of the chairs. He had his head tilted back and smiled up at her.
“They’re surprisingly comfortable,” he said.
“Yes, they are.” She wondered how long he would stay and talk if she sat in the other chair. But he’d tossed the manila envelope in that seat and, when he saw the tools in her hand, he pushed himself to his feet.
It only took him a couple of minutes to check the nuts on both chairs. There were a couple he tightened, and then he held the socket and crescent wrenches out to her.
“They look good,” he said. “Now I don’t have to worry about the chair collapsing under you because I didn’t tighten them enough the first time. It’s been bugging me, so I’m glad it’s taken care of now.”
The visual of landing on her butt in a pile of pink wood made her smile, even though a small part of her was recognizing that Ben didn’t just take care of people who were having medical crises. He was just the kind of guy who took care of things—and people.
Don’t you worry about it, Laney. I have everything taken care of.
The last voice she wanted in her head right now was her ex-husband’s. Yes, he’d taken care of everything. He’d handled everything to the point it took Laney a lot of years to realize he wasn’t taking care of things out of love and concern for her. He either didn’t believe her capable of taking responsibility or he’d wanted to ensure he had total control over all aspects of their lives. Either way, once Laney recognized she’d become a shell of the woman she’d once been, she’d tried to take back control over her life. Patrick had resisted and so she’d divorced him.
On the surface, Ben and her ex-husband appeared to have nothing in common. But the idea of being taken care of again scared her. Especially since she was enjoying taking care of herself so much.
Then she took the tools from him and their hands touched, and she forgot about that voice inside of her who was leery of Ben Rivers.
