Capri nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah. It’s a good spot.”
The silence stretched just long enough to make her feel a little flustered. “I’ll show you what I packed up from the kitchen,” she said quickly, motioning for him to follow her downstairs. She heard his footsteps behind her, measured and unhurried, and that odd awareness of him hadn’t quite faded by the time they reached the bottom.
Jake rolled up his sleeves, surveying the downstairs space with a practical eye. “Before we get to rebuilding, we’ve got to tear some things down. Old wood’s gotta come out, especially in the kitchen. Apologies in advance for the mess—it’ll look worse before it looks better, but it won’t last long.”
Capri shrugged, hands on her hips. “I’ll survive.”
Jake chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “That’s the spirit.”
With that, he got to work, and Capri headed out the back door into her mother’s garden. It was overgrown, in need of weeding, but she could still spot the bright green heads of lettuce peeking through the soil. She figured she’d busy herself with pulling weeds and cleaning the bedding areas.
She crouched down, pulling at clumps of crabgrass and dandelions with focused determination. The earthy smell of the garden was comforting. A little too comforting, perhaps, because she didn’t notice the soft rustle in the bushes behind her.
Until it was too late.
The sharp, unmistakable scent hit her before she even turned around. A skunk—stark black and white—stood just a few feet away, its tail raised high like a warning flag. Capri froze, eyes wide. “No, no, no?—”
But it was too late. The spray hit her with precision, an acrid stench that immediately made her gag.
“Are you kidding me?!” she groaned, stumbling backward, trying to cover her nose as the smell sank into her clothes, her hair—everything. She heard the sound of the back door creaking open and turned to see Jake standing there, his sleeves rolled up and wearing an expression that was a mix of amusement and concern.
“Capri… you, uh… okay over there?”
She threw up her hands in defeat. “Does it look like I’m okay?!”
Jake bit back a laugh, plugging his nose with his fingers. “Just checking. You might want to… take care of that.”
Capri glared at him, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “You think?”
He crossed his arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I’d offer to help, but I’m pretty sure my nose can’t take it.”
She continued to stare at him, incredulous, as the smell worsened with each passing second. “Jake Carrington, if you don’t quit laughing?—”
But before she could finish, a laugh escaped him, deep and unrestrained. And despite herself, Capri joined in, the absurdity of the situation too much to resist.
“You’re lucky I don’t make you take a tomato bath too,” she grumbled, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
Jake just grinned, his eyes still twinkling. “I think you’ve got this one covered. I’ll just… stay upwind.”
Capri stepped out of the shower, her skin still tingling from scrubbing what felt like every inch of herself. She’d used every trick in the book—tomato juice, baking soda, even vinegar—but no matter how much she tried, the faint scent of skunk still clung to her like a persistent shadow she couldn’t shake.
Wrapping a towel around herself, she glanced in the mirror and sighed. Plans for lunch with Jake were clearly off the table now. No way was she going to sit through a meal smelling like this, no matter how faint.
Still, she dressed and headed downstairs, only to find Jake wiping down the countertops where he had started clearing debris.
“You good?” he asked with an easy smile, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at her.
Capri shrugged, wrinkling her nose. “As good as I’m gonna be. I still smell like a skunk.”
Jake leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I’ve been around worse. You up for lunch?”
Capri blinked, surprised. “You… want to have lunch with me? I smell.”
He chuckled. “Capri, I’ve been through muddy construction sites, knee-deep in goodness-knows-what. A little leftover skunk smell doesn’t scare me. I bet you have some food in that refrigerator. How about we whip something up together? I’m starving.”
She hesitated, but the idea of making lunch together was too tempting to pass up, especially when the alternative was sulking alone in her room over her lingering odor. “Alright,” she said, grabbing a hair tie to pull her damp hair back. “But you’re in charge of chopping. I can’t be trusted with sharp objects right now.”
Jake laughed again, and they moved around the kitchen, getting out the ingredients. Capri rummaged through the fridge, pulling out the lettuce, tomatoes, some cheese, and deli meat.
