Page 13 of Her Rugged Guardian

I had mud on my feet. I was standing in my bathrobe after he’d seen me in my nearly see-through nightgown and I was freezing to death given the chill in the air. And I had a virtual stranger hiding on my roof. Yep. I was in a pissy mood.

He finally appeared, standing like some crazed hero above me, peering down with the same scowl I’d seen the night before.

“Didn’t I make it clear that I never wanted to see you again?” I shouted up at him.

“You don’t have a say in the matter. I have a signed purchase order to fix the roof. Besides, I don’t think you want to continueto allow water inside the place. Do you? If you do, just tell me and by all means, I’ll stop.”

God, the man was infuriating. “Fine. Fix the leak then get down here. I’ll pay you what is owed. Then get off my property. Come on, Moose. I sure hope you did your business because we’re not waiting outside for this big jerk.” Before Mr. Grinch had a chance to retort or I had a chance to be even uglier, I stormed back to the house, forgetting all about the mud until I’d tracked it inside. I slammed the door out of anger and spite, jumping all over again when something fell from one of the walls.

Moose whined and pressed his head against my leg. I knew what he wanted. I’d been a bad Mommy dog the night before, skipping his dinner. “Okay, baby boy. Are you hungry for some frog noogies?” It was the term I’d used since getting him. Actually, it had been the single endearing phrase my ex had used. Otherwise, he’d hated Moose, which had been the first bone of contention between us. After that, everything had irritated me. “Let me get a towel first and clean up my mess. Okay?”

My furry boy barked once in approval.

After snatching a towel from the laundry room, I cursed the entire time I was wiping the mud, blaming Jake for the atrocity as well.

A few minutes later I headed to the kitchen, stopping short as I took in the view. In the dark, things had seemed much more modern. Now they seemed sad, the cabinets tinted in a pale blue accentuating the ugliest wallpaper I’d ever seen in my life.

At least the appliances weren’t ancient, but they certainly weren’t what I was used to. However, the refrigerator was commercial in size, the two wall ovens as well. And the cooktopon the kitchen island was new with eight burners. If the walls weren’t painted a darker blue, gingham curtains on the windows, it would be a decent enough space.

And it would be again.

At least the oversized kitchen table could easily seat twelve and appeared recently refinished, the banquette-style seats comfortable looking.

Thankfully, the sweeping view out the bay window was incredible. The ocean was right there, so close it was as if I could reach out and touch the waves. And the way the morning light highlighted the carved rocks and sharp precipice was breathtaking. It was mesmerizing to look at even though the day had dawned with gray skies and a chilly breeze.

“I’ll get your food, baby.” I drained his water bowl, refilling it almost to the top, careful not to slop it over the edge when I placed it on a wooden floor that had also seen better days. The photographs my mother had sent over the years had certainly been taken from desirable angles. I couldn’t argue about the house. She’d left it to me in her will and even though there was a hefty mortgage, it still wasn’t anywhere close to what I’d been paying in DC.

A series of thumps overhead reminded me that the man I’d prefer to avoid was positioned on my roof. I resisted becoming incensed, choosing to yank Moose’s dogfood away from the wall. I was forced to use my hands to scoop food into his bowl. The entire time I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Jake. What disturbed the hell out of me was that my thoughts had nothing to do with the anger I’d felt the night before after finding him inside my house. No. This girl, the one who’d sworn off menafter everything I’d endured with my ex, remained intrigued, desire still barraging my mind with lurid fantasies.

“There you go, baby. Eat up. I need coffee.” After placing Moose’s food bowl on the floor, I glared at my mother’s old coffeemaker, taking the time to search through the drawers until I found a sharp knife. One of the few boxes I’d brought in held my prized coffee machine, the one that I’d paid way too much money for but offered not only single cups of the perfect brew but also cappuccino when I so desired.

When I noticed the box was damaged, my heart did a little flutter. There were few things that I required in my life. I mean, I didn’t consider myself a prima donna even if my ex-asshole had tossed the ugly word in my face more than once. Okay, so maybe at least two dozen times. The truth was that by the end of our not-so-passionate love affair, I’d enjoyed yanking his chain every chance I got.

Now all I did was chastise my horrific choice of men. I rolled my eyes as I slit the tape on the box, saying a silent prayer my beloved coffeemaker was in perfect condition.

As I heard Moose eagerly munching on his frog noogies, I managed a smile, giving more than one Hail Mary the second I realized there was no damage. With joy in my heart, I replaced my mother’s atrocity with my first real addition of the house, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

Until the hardest thud of all directly overtop me brought debris cascading down across my head and shoulders from the ceiling above. “Goddamn motherfucker!” I glared down at my discolored feet, the white speckles adding to the brown smudges that no amount of wiping my feet could remove.

Moose continued to chow down, not slowing even a tiny bit. Maybe that offered some crazy level of encouragement to ignore the mess, concentrating only on making the perfect cup of coffee.

I managed to follow through with my intentions, yanking my favorite hazelnut coffee pod into my hand. After finding a plastic cup to add water to the reservoir on the side of the machine and finding a coffee mug in my mother’s cabinet, I plugged the Keurig in. My actions way too exaggerated for a sleepless night, I turned it on, enjoying the way the slight hissing sound brought the machine to life. When it stopped rumbling, I pressed my finger on the perfect setting, basking in the first whiffs of the delightful coffee smell.

As with every perfect cup of coffee, in my world there had to be cream to go with it. On a morning like this after the night I’d had, there was only one cream that would make the cut. Irish cream. Fortunately for me, I’d snagged a couple of personal-sized bottles from my ABC store before leaving DC, storing them away in my purse. They would suffice this morning until I found a local liquor store.

“Stay right there and enjoy your breakfast, baby. Mommy dog will be right back.” I bolted from the kitchen, forced to tie the robe more tightly before flying up the stairs. By the time I hit the landing, I heard my phone ringing. I flew into the bedroom, glaring at the nearly full bucket before realizing I’d been too out of it the night before to bother taking my older iPhone from my purse.

My patience level worn thin, I grabbed then dumped my bag on the bed, shoving the small bottles of Bailey’s Irish Cream into the pocket of my robe before yanking the phone into my hand. I did have priorities.

Seeing Jessica’s number flash across the screen, I groaned. My best friend had done everything in her power to prevent me from moving, including trying to bribe me with a free vacation to her parents’ estate in St. Martin.

“Hey, girl,” I answered.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I shoved one finger in my other ear, trying not to curse up a blue streak.

“You’re there safe and sound?” I’d literally run into Jessica the first day of my job at the advertising firm when I’d tried to sneak a Starbucks coffee to take into the skyscraper building. I’d been late, unused to the DC traffic. After my full coffee cup had landed directly in her lap, I’d thought for certain we’d get into an argument. Instead, she’d laughed it off even though I’d accompanied her to the local Doc in a Box for the mild burns. Thank God for wool material.

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