Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Oh, right. The neighbor boy. I set down the photos I was holding and walked over to the door.
I don’t know what I was expecting, possibly a skinny teenager with acne and a shaggy haircut, but definitely not six-feet-four inches of solid muscle and a stubbled jaw. Boy? This was a man in every sense of the word. I could practically smell the testosterone coming off him. And he was gorgeous. Short dark hair, light brown eyes, and wide shoulders. His chest seemed massive. His hands huge.
“Hello,” I managed, my heart knocking hard inside my chest. The words fuck fling reverberated through my brain.
He nodded shortly but didn’t smile. “Hi.”
“Stella’s here visiting me from Detroit. I think I told you about her, didn’t I?” Grams asked.
“Yeah.” He glanced behind him, where I saw some tools on the porch. “Okay if I get started?”
“Of course, dear. Do you need anything?”
“No. I borrowed a few things from Cloverleigh.”
“Wonderful.” She turned to me. “Mr. Woods works for the Sawyer family over at Cloverleigh.”
“At the farm?” I asked, pleased that my voice sounded normal. His appearance had caught me off guard. “Or the inn?”
“Mostly outdoor stuff.” He looked at me, and I thought he was going to go on, but he didn’t.
“Stella runs marathons,” Grams said out of nowhere. “Did I tell you that?”
“Uh, yeah.” Ryan looked at the tools again, and I could tell he just wanted to get to work.
Grams was having none of it. “Ryan enjoys running too,” she told me. “I see him all the time hotfooting it down the road. And he’s so quick! It’s no wonder he’s so fit. Don’t you think he’s fit, Stella?”
Oh, Jesus.
It was totally obvious what Grams was doing, and I was embarrassed for the guy and for myself. “Uh, yes. But let’s let him work, Grams. Nice meeting you, Ryan.”
He nodded, meeting my eyes one last time. My breath caught.
Grams let the screen door close and we went back to our spots on the couch. We finished our drinks and looked at some more pictures, but I found myself distracted by the sound of the saw on the porch. Once or twice I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of his shape through the sheers. When Grams’s timer buzzed and she went into the kitchen to take the chicken out of the oven, I parted the curtains slightly and peered out.
He was doing something on the floor out there, maybe putting in some new boards? I’m not too handy, so I wasn’t sure. But I liked watching his arms as he worked, prying up the old ones. His green Cloverleigh work shirt was tight around his biceps, and his forearms and wrists were thick. He had something tattooed on the inside of his left arm below the elbow, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
I watched for several minutes. The way his muscles flexed as he hammered was mesmerizing. And his butt looked fantastic in his jeans. To get a better view, I got up on my knees and leaned closer to the window, pressing both my palms against the glass. Right as I did, he looked up and saw me.
Embarrassed, I hopped off the couch, moving away from the window. Jesus, what a creeper I was! Could I blame the gin? I took my empty glass into the kitchen, where Grams was pouring iced tea into a glass.
“Stella, darling, would you please take this out to Ryan on the porch?” She handed the glass to me with a smile. “It’s a warm evening and he’s working so hard.”
I didn’t want to, since he’d just caught me staring at his ass through the window, but I nodded. “Okay.”
On my way to the front door, I stopped in the living room and set down the glass so I could slip off my blazer. After rolling up the sleeves of my blouse and tightening my ponytail, I made my way onto the porch.
He looked up when the door creaked open, then quickly dropped his eyes to his work again.
Okay, then.
“Repairing the porch?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Are you … a carpenter?”
“Not really.”
“Just good with a hammer?”
His eyes flicked up briefly. “Something like that.”
My cheeks grew warmer. “Ah, Grams asked me to bring you some iced tea. You must be thirsty.”
“Thanks.” But he didn’t stop what he was doing to take it from me.
“I’ll just set it here,” I said, placing the glass on the porch railing. I wondered if he was offended that I’d been looking at him through the window or if he was just unfriendly. It seemed odd to me that a guy who was so sweet to a little old lady was so standoffish with someone his age.
“Well, thanks for helping my grandmother out,” I said, feeling mildly disappointed. So much for a fuck fling with the handyman. “I know she appreciates it.”