As we get back to work, I think about what would happen if I tried to pursue something with Blair. If I tried harder to find out why the hell I’m so drawn to her as much as I am. Why I want to learn more about her and her life back in the city.
She’s quirky, stubborn, and…real.
Fear creeps in, mixing with these thoughts, because what if I finally decide to open up to her, and she doesn’t stay? What if I let myself fall and she goes back to wherever she came from? What if she decides the bakery isn’t enough for her and she opens one up back in the city just to go home?
These are all the reasons I can’t let it happen.
But, dammit, she makes me want things again.
I need to get out of my own head.
I lose track of how long we’ve been here when the sky morphsinto an orange glow as the sun crests over the mountain. I stand back with Tucker and assess all the work we’ve put in for the whole day.
It’s done, and it’s fucking beautiful if you ask me.
“All that’s left is to stain it,” Tucker says, standing next to me with his hands on his hips.
“I’ll find out what color she wants before we do that.”
“You got it.” He nods. “If you need help with that, call me. Don’t text. I get bad vibes from your messages.”
I scowl in his direction, ready to rebuttal when a white sports car pulls into the driveway behind my truck.
Blair jogs in our direction and her eyes widen before it quickly morphs into a scowl as she crosses her arms over her chest. “What did you do?” she hisses.
“Oh, she seems pissed,” Tucker whispers next to me, before straightening his spine. “It was his idea,” he defends.
“Who are you?” she asks him.
“I’m Tucker,” he says, shuffling in her direction with his hand extended to her. She eyes it before taking it to return the greeting. “Unfortunately, I’m related to this guy.” He hikes a thumb in my direction.
“My condolences,” she says to him, but is now looking at me.
“Whoa.” Tucker beams. “Even pissed off, she’s got jokes. I like this one.”
I keep my gaze locked on her angry eyes and refuse to laugh at this entire interaction. Not until I know she’s not actually mad.
Okay, I mean…she’s mad. Her body language is screaming it right now.
Tucker looks between both of us. “Well, I’m going to head up to your house and make a sandwich. I’m starving again. Those pretzel twists just weren’t enough,” he says, before making his way across the lawn.
Blair and I stand where he left us, still looking at each other. The tension I feel radiating off her, even from a decent distance away, is so thick that I can barely breathe right now.
“What did you do?” she asks again, this time crossing her arms over her chest.
Still mad, I see.
“I wanted to fix your railing,” I say honestly.
Her arms fly out, gesturing to the deck. “This doesn’t look like fixing my railing. The entire thing is new. I can fit an entire ten-piece patio furniture set on here.”
“Didn’t you want it bigger?” I question. “I remember you saying that. I was just helping make your life easier.”
She groans. “I don’t want it to be easier,” she shouts, throwing her arms out before muttering “fuck” under her breath. She turns away from me, kicking the rocks around in the gravel driveway. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“So, make me understand,” I say, my voice louder than I expected.
She turns to face me quickly, shocked that I even care.
