“Easton Hargrove. Look, Bailee—”
“Let me properly introduce myself. I’m Bailee Maxwell. You already know that Darby Anne is my grandmother and undeniably one of my favorite people on the planet. She has toldme about you, how you look out for her, mow her yard, take care of things around the house, drive her places if she doesn’t want to drive herself. I appreciate all of that, and knowing you do that tells me you’re probably a very nice guy. But—”
“I’m not sure I want you to finish that sentence,” he admitted sourly, and he thought he saw her lips twitch as if she was fighting a smile.
“But the whole charming, flirtatious, sexy vibe you’ve got going on is lost on me. I come with baggage so heavy you and your brothers combined couldn’t carry it. I don’t know how long I’ll be here. It could be a couple of days. It could be a while. So while I’m here, I prefer to avoid any complications or problems or drama. I have enough of that in my life already. I don’t need to add to it, especially when it could make things awkward for Gran.”
Just like that, a switch flipped for Easton. He had a knack for being able to shift his personality to be whatever people needed him to be. No one taught him the skill. He’d cultivated it out of necessity, and he was grateful for it in this moment.
His attraction was still there because Bailee was hot as hell, but now his respect for her overshadowed that. He sensed she could use a friend, and he suddenly felt a need to be that friend.
He caught and held her gaze. Her eyes were the same dark brown that reminded him of hot chocolate — warm, tempting, and comforting. This time, his smile was more friendly and less flirty, showing his even white teeth and crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Welcome back to Fire Creek. While you’re staying with Darby Anne, I consider you as much my neighbor as she is. Andaround here, we don’t look to make things awkward or difficult for our neighbors. We look to help out where we can and support each other. So I guess that’s why I’m here. I’m offering my help for a few hours while you’re working on the house. If you don’t need my help, I’m offering my company. If you don’t want that, then I’ll say goodbye and look forward to the next time we can talk. But to put your worries at ease, that’s all I’m offering. Just friendship.”
Bailee seemed to consider him for a moment, and he forced himself not to squirm under her intense scrutiny. He wasn’t sure why he cared if she accepted him or not. He gave up craving acceptance from other people after his father abandoned him to make it on his own. But here he was, holding his breath, waiting for her to decide to accept or reject him.
“There’s another paintbrush in the bag on the porch. I’m waiting to do the railings around the front steps until last, so Roxy doesn’t brush against them when she goes up and down from the porch. She’s found a home on the swing for now, but she lives to roam, and I don’t want to have to get paint out of her fur later.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Easton tried not to wince at his lame response.
He took two steps at a time to reach the porch. He walked over to scratch behind Roxy’s ears, earning an enthusiastic tail wag for his trouble, and then he grabbed the paintbrush.
He took a position opposite her and went to work. “How’s the ankle, by the way?”
“It’s fine.”
When she didn’t elaborate, he took the cue and concentrated on the task at hand instead of conversation. They worked quietly for several minutes. The morning sun beat warm rays against his back, and sweat beaded on his skin. He stopped once to chug some water before resuming work.
He hated painting. The monotonous motion was too tedious to hold his interest, and he wished he’d changed clothes before coming over. The old, worn T-shirt would probably look better with a little paint spatter, but his joggers were his favorite pair, offering the highest comfort level.
If his brothers could see him now, the teasing he’d have to endure would rival some of the most effective torture techniques.
When Darby Anne stepped out the door, he smiled to have a reprieve. The older woman stopped and blinked in his direction, and he grinned at her obvious surprise.
“Good morning, Easton. I didn’t expect to see you up and about so early. I hope Bailee Anne didn’t wake you with her home improvements.”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
Her arresting eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she withdrew her keys from the patterned purse slung across her body to hang at her hip. “You fell asleep reading again. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good book?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Darby Anne nodded. “Well, then I expect to borrow it once you’re finished.”
His grin widened. “Yes, ma’am.”
She returned his smile before swinging her gaze to her granddaughter. “I’m going to meet my friend, Becky, in town, and I’ll probably be gone most of the day. You’re sure you’ll be fine on your own?”
“You do realize I live on my own, right?” Bailee’s teasing smile removed any bite from her words.
“How’s your ankle?” Darby Anne asked as if her granddaughter hadn’t spoken.
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Go and have fun with your friend. Bring her back by the time you guys finish. I’d love to meet her.”
