Carrie almost ran at his words. But she instead, she pulled herself up straighter, determined to face the truth. She was so sick of running. “I’m fine.” A lift of her chin reinforced her assertion.
“I can see that you’re very fine, Jolene. But I can help.”
Carrie crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m fine,” she told him again.
He sighed, looked over at her porch. “Right. You’re fine. So,” he paused, rubbing the back of his neck, “When you decide that you’re tired of being fine, let me know. I’m good at resolving problems.”
And with that, he walked back to his house.
Carrie watched him walk away, half of her admiring his tall, strong body. The other half craving the safety he offered.
Chapter 5
Carrie stared out the window, sipping her coffee and thinking about what Derick had said yesterday. “I’m good at resolving problems.” What did that mean? And didn’t he know that she was perfectly capable of solving her own problems? She was fine at it!
There was that word again. “Fine.”
Looking around, she saw the power tools she hadn’t put away last night after working on the staircase. Fine. She was fine, that was true. But did she really want to be just fine for the rest of her life? Did she really want to lose all of her power? Her dreams?
Carrie looked out the window again. The sun hadn’t come up yet, but there was a grey sky in the distance, indicating that the sun was close to starting the day. Carrie sipped again, but she didn’t taste the coffee. She didn’t feel the joyous burst of energy that she normally anticipated when she sipped her coffee.
Sighing, she closed her eyes. “I’m fine!” she whispered out loud.
And yet, she was sitting in a dark, mostly empty room with just a fabric bucket chair, sipping coffee out of her one mug and wearing a boring tee shirt to sleep in instead of something nicer. Sexier. She had dyed her hair black, hiding her normal strawberry blonde coloring and she wore nondescript, baggy clothes, no makeup and a baseball cap, just in case someone might notice and remember her.
Growing up, she’d dreamed about having a family and doing something with her life. Okay, so flipping houses was a lucrative job. But that’s all it was. It was a job, not a career. She liked the work, but she didn’t love it. Granted, she truly loved bringing a house back to life and…perhaps she loved what she did. It might have been something she’d stumbled into, but she loved it.
So if her work wasn’t the problem, what was the problem?
Sex. Carrie chuckled as she snuggled into the chair a bit more. Yeah, she missed sex. A lot! It had been too long since she’d felt a man’s caress. Not that she’d loved sex all that much, but she really craved the human touch, the connection with a man. In her experience, sex was the only time that a man really touched. Other times, he was just too busy.
Granted, sex had become a bit…scary…towards the end of her marriage.
Carrie sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. “Stop it!” she muttered. Just because she’d finally found a man that she was interested in, that was no reason to put herself back in danger.
Standing up, she poured the rest of her coffee down the drain and looked around. “What to do now,” she whispered, resting her hands on her hips. “Probably getting dressed would be the best idea,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
Walking up the stairs, she padded barefoot to the room where she’d set up the air mattress and sleeping bag. No dresser. Instead, Carrie simply stacked her clothes against the wall. It was a bit desolate of an existence, she thought. “But I’m safe,” she said as she pulled on a pair of jeans and another baggy tee shirt, then pulled her hair back. Looking in the bathroom mirror, she cringed. “Time to dye again.” The strawberry blond roots were coming through.
Instead of worrying about that, she plopped a baseball cap onto her head and went in search of her work boots.
That’s when she saw her neighbor. Derick. His name echoed in her mind.
He was dressed this morning, she noticed with disappointment. And he had a determined look to his handsome, rough features. His black hair was a bit mussed, but that only made him look sexier. More rugged.
Parts of her body that Carrie had thought were long dead suddenly perked up again. “Down girl,” she muttered to herself. “Not for you.”
Why not?
Carrie was so startled by that question that her mind whirled. Shaking her head, she turned away from the image of her handsome, sexy neighbor taking a shovel from his shed, then disappearing into the garden to do…something. Carrie had never really grown anything other than grass, so she wasn’t sure what one needed to do to a garden. Weed it? But why would a shovel be required? Weren’t weeds small? Wouldn’t a shovel dig up more than just weeds?
Fascinated by all of the possibilities, she inched towards the window. He seemed to be touching each of the plants as he walked by, almost caressing them.
Would he touch her with the same gentleness? Would he caress her with…!
“Stop it!” she groaned, pressing her forehead against the wood window frame, her fingers clenching the wood to stop herself from…what? What would she do?
She peeked out the window again, her mouth watering when Derick reached down to touch a tomato that was ripening on the vine, holding the small fruit in his hands, examining it. His touch was gentle and tender. Careful not to hurt the ripening fruit.
“Stop it!” she whispered vehemently, wrapping her arms around her body as if she could somehow ward off the temptation of his gentle touch.
Instead of stopping, Derick stood up and took the shovel, disappearing behind the tall corn stalks. For a moment, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then a sharp stab of disappointment hit her and she groaned. “You’re being ridiculous!” Stomping into the bathroom, she grabbed her toothbrush.
“I should help him.” Carrie heard the words, felt them hanging in the air, anticipation thick. But she didn’t move, terrified suddenly of…? She grabbed the toothpaste and brushed her teeth, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of her thoughts.
And yet, she couldn’t seem to get it out of her mind. What was she afraid of? That he’d beat her? That he’d reject her offer of help?
“Damn it!” she whispered, and made a decision. She turned on her booted foot and headed out the door. “It’s the right thing to do!”
She yanked open the back door and forced herself down the steps, moving across her brown lawn to his green one.
“Good morning,” Carrie called out.
Derick appeared from behind the corn stalks, as if he’d been waiting for her. For a long moment, he didn’t say a word. They stood on opposite sides of his garden, staring at each other. Sizing each other up? She wasn’t sure, but for some reason, it felt…nice to have a male look at her.
“You helped me yesterday,” she announced, feeling a little off balance with the weight of his dark eyes on her. “I came to repay the favor.”
He continued to watch her and she felt a bit silly. Her baggy jeans and huge tee shirt hung on her narrow frame. He probably thought she was a vagabond. She wore cast-off clothes, drove a clunker of a pickup truck, and had bought a beat-up old house.