“Sorry, Mom. Can you repeat that?”
“I was just wondering what’s left to do, then? It sounds like you should be done soon. Your dad is getting worried about you two, up there all alone, with nothing to do but work on the cabin.”
“Yeah… I’m not entirely sure what’s left. Want to talk to Mason about it?”
“Oh, is he there right now? I would’ve thought he’d be off working on something or other. I’d love to talk to him.”
I handed the phone over, and Mason cleared his throat before answering.
“Hey, Mrs. Wilson. Yeah, things are going great here.” He paused a moment while she said something I couldn’t make out. I assumed she was asking about the progress on the cabin until Mason responded. “Oh, no. He’s not bored at all. We’re finding plenty to keep him occupied.”
He waggled his eyebrows at me as he spoke and I covered my face with my hands, mortified. I knew Mom wouldn’t pick up what he was implying, but still, it was embarrassing to think of my mom knowing anything about that part of my life.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m working on the roof today. It should be a few days on the roof before it’s done. Once that’s finished, we’ll still have drywall and painting left to do, to repair the interior water damage. No, the floors came out fine. We’re lucky they’re wood. No carpet to replace, thankfully. The floorboards are a little warped in places, but it’s nothing a good refinish couldn’t take care of. That’s not something I have the equipment for right now though.” He paused again, listening and nodding as my mom spoke to him. “Sure thing. I’ll give you back to Emery now.” He held the phone out to me.
Mom spoke before I could say a word. “I’m going to let you go, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, okay?”
“Mom, I’m not fourteen. We’re good here. We have a car. We have groceries. We’ll be fine.”
A moment later, we said our goodbyes, me promising I’d give her a call if something came up or I thought of anything she could bring. I put the phone on the counter, the music playingimmediately. For a fraction of a second, I thought Mason was going to say something about the dancing, but the moment had passed.
“I’m headed back up, okay?”
I nodded. “Be careful up there. We all know I’d be useless if you got hurt and I had to finish the repairs without you.”
Mason laughed. “Whatever you say, Boss.”
After that, I was alone in the big open room, wondering what the hell I was going to do with myself for the rest of the day.
Chapter Ten
Mason
Hourslater,myheadached as I used the nail gun to secure shingles into place, most likely from the loud pop of the gun. As I made my way across the damaged section of roof I was repairing, I realized I was low on nails. The idea of climbing back down to grab a fresh box made me a little nauseous. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and groaned as I sat down. “Hey, Em?” I waited a moment, not sure if he heard me, before calling louder. “Em?”
Emery stuck his head out of the front door. “Yeah? Wait, where are you?” For a moment, he peered up at the roof, a look of confusion on his face.
“I’m over here.” When he spotted me, his features relaxed into a smile that made my heart pick up pace, thudding in my chest. I took a deep breath to center myself. “Can you grab that box of nails and bring it up?”
As he looked around his brow furrowed. When he spotted his target, his eyes lit up and he glanced up at me. “This one?”
“Yes, please.”
“Sure thing.” A moment later, Emery was climbing the ladder, box of nails in hand. “You doing okay?” He sank down to sit next to me, placing the nails between us.
“I’m great.” I closed my eyes for a moment, my head spinning a little. “Delightful.” I grabbed the nail gun and the box Emery had brought me so I could reload. Once that was done, I rose to my feet. As I did, my head spun harder, the ache getting worse. I groaned and closed my eyes.
Emery put a hand on the back of my calf. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Peachy,” I muttered. “It’s just my head. The noise is giving me a splitting headache.”
He hummed and released my calf. A moment later, he was standing next to me, his hand on my back. “Why don’t you sit back down?”
I bent, putting my hands on my knees, a groan escaping my throat. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a sec.”
“Come on. Sit down. You’re not helping anyone by working on a roof if you feel like you’re going to pass out.”
“I’m not going to—” I started to protest, but a wave of nausea hit me and I had to clench my jaw to keep my breakfast down. Once it passed, I exhaled slowly through my nose. “Fine.”
