“It’s not. Pops was a carpenter by trade, but his vision has made it impossible to do the work himself. I’m really not sure why he bought all this sheetrock and stuff. He knows we can’t afford it, but he’s probably in denial about not being able to do the work anymore.”
I think about that for a moment and then reflect on our outing today. From the hardware store to the diner, he introduced me to everyone as though I was a friend helping out—as though I were someone who would be here for a long time. Maybe he thinks I can do something with this place.
Why does that idea excite me? I’ve never built or painted anything, or even so much as swung a hammer in my life, but the concept of actually fixing something instead of what my father has done for the last ten years excites me as nothing else ever has.
“Maybe I can help,” I say.
Madison stares at me curiously, then reaches onto her tiptoes to put a dish on a top shelf she has no way of reaching.
Stepping behind her to take the dish from her hand is an immediate mistake. She smells like summer—light, fresh, with a hint of citrus that reminds me of sunny days at the ocean.
The second my hand touches hers, she steps back into my body, and it’s as though we’re the chemical bond of two atoms. We just fit.
She gasps at the connection, and I take the large bowl from her hand before it slips even as my pulse gallops in my chest. “I’ve got it.” My words are quiet and low, but they convey an attraction I shouldn’t be feeling after only a day.
Madison tilts her head back then up, her baby-blue irises glowing in the dim overhead lighting as she stares at me. For the first time I can remember, I have the urge to kiss a complete stranger.
“Thank you.” Her voice is throaty and so damn sexy I can’t look away from her as she turns to face me.
“Happy to help.” My body inches closer, needing the sizzle of her skin to jolt me back to life.
Time slows as our bodies press together, eyes locked. Even our breathing syncs.
She licks her lips and I lean in, attracted to the shimmering moisture her tongue leaves behind. A kiss from her might ruin me for all others. The pull between us is inescapable, irrefutable, and terrifying as fucking hell.
“It, um, goes on the top shelf,” she says, barely above a whisper.
I slip the bowl onto the shelf without looking. “All set.”
Madison nods, and so do I.
I’m going to kiss her. She opens her mouth to say something, but we’re interrupted by a loud whoosh and then a crash.
We jump apart with electricity still zinging between us and turn toward the sound.
She holds a hand to her heart. “Oh my God. It’s the dang sheetrock.”
I peer around her. Two of the three sheets I had leaned against the door are on the floor, cracked in half.
“They’re broken,” she chokes out. “No matter what Pops says to you tomorrow, you cannot let him buy more. We can’t afford it. I know I shouldn’t admit that to you, but it’s the truth, and I know how pushy that old man can be.”
“I promise. I won’t let him buy anything else.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “Thank you for your help. I, ah, have an early morning so I should get to bed. Do you need anything before I go?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you for letting me help. I’ve never felt…useful before. It’s a new experience for me, and I don’t hate it.” My lips pull into a smile that she reciprocates. “That is truly embarrassing to admit.”
“Not embarrassing, it’s honest. I appreciate that. And I’m very happy to be at your service. So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow,” I say as I follow her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. It isn’t until she opens a door that I realize we share a wall.
Madison stands at her door while I walk past her to mine. Our gazes collide with that magnetic pulse that thrives when we’re close.
“Goodnight, Braxton.” Her words are soft and gentle. They make me want to hold her tight.
“Goodnight, Madison.”
She opens her mouth, probably to tell me to call her Madi again, but I open my door and walk through it before I do something monumentally stupid and drag her into my room.
