This Monday is not like other Mondays.

Well, it is, but only sort of.

I got up at the ass crack of dawn, went to my parents’ house, and got the week’s schedule. I said hi to my dad and sat down to have a cup of coffee with him. His slurred speech wasn’t as prominent this morning as it sometimes is, but I’ve learned not to get my hopes up. Some days are better than others, a result of the medicine doing what it can for him.

I can’t stay for much longer, not if I want to make it to Brynn’s on time. At twenty minutes to eight, I stand up to leave. My mom pulls biscuits from the oven at that same moment, using one hand to hold them and another to wave their buttery scent my way.

“I know you’re not starting the first job until nine.” She turns around, sets the sheet pan on the stove, and takes three plates from a cabinet.

“I have to be somewhere at eight, Mom. I hired someone and need to go over some stuff before we start work.”

“Good.” She smiles and takes out two Tupperware containers. “Where did you find him?”

“Her,” I correct.

Her eyes widen. “Her?”

Dad chuckles, but it’s a stilted sound.

“I met her…” in the street… in front of my bumper… after she caused a minor accident that left my car in need of bodywork… “downtown.”

Mom finishes wrapping up two portions of biscuits and ladles her sausage gravy into a stainless steel container.

“Breakfast,” she says, pushing the food into my arms. “For you and your new employee.” She lifts her eyebrows a few times to make sure I get her drift.

“She is just an employee, Mom.”

I know what she’s getting at. My mom is as transparent as a glass door, and she can’t keep a secret to save her life. Maybe I should tell her Brynn might be as crazy as Walt, just to get her off my back. If I did that, she would insist I fire Brynn, and I don’t want that to happen. I’m curious about her. I want to know why she’s in Brighton.

It must be her vibe that has me interested. She’s kind of mean. She puts out these ‘stay away’ signals, the kind I’m sure most people listen to. Unless she causes an accident that dents their car and actually looks like she feels really bad about it. For three seconds, anyway. Then something happened, and she froze over.

Probably a good thing. A girl like Brynn needs to be left alone. And a guy like me? She’s the last thing I need.

“Bring your new employee by sometime soon, Connor. We’ll need to at least meet her.” Mom places a hand on my arm. “Not that I don’t trust your judgment, but I would like to know who’s representing the Vale name.”

“Will do. Gotta go, Mom.” I nod at my dad and back out of the kitchen, trying not to run to my truck.

I’m late. I send Brynn a quick text at the number she called me from yesterday, letting her know I’m on my way, and drive off.

Nerves eat at me on the way, and that annoys me.

Okay, yeah, Brynn is gorgeous, but she also has an attitude bigger than Alaska. And as hard as I tried not to appreciate those cut-off jean shorts, I liked them a little too much. Her lips were sumptuous, and I don’t think I’ve ever used that word to describe someone’s lips. They are full, pink, and I’m certain kissing them would be like enjoying a lavish feast. Until she opens her mouth and slices me with her sharp tongue, anyway. Honestly, it might not be too high a price to pay.

I don’t know why I’m doing this.

So, so stupid.

I am definitely smarter than this.

My truck rolls to a stop in front of her house.

Apparently I’m not that smart.

With breakfast in tow, I hop out and walk to the front door. Two knocks. Wait thirty seconds. Two more knocks.

Ummm…

Finally I hear the sound of locks clicking and sliding out of the way. The door opens a few inches and an ear-piercing sound fills the air.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry,” she says from the other side of the door.

Something gets pushed aside and the sound stops. The door opens all the way and Brynn’s standing there, sleepy-eyed. Her hair falls to her shoulders and it’s a mess.

“Not a great way to start your first day,” I tell her, stepping inside.

“Come on in, you’re invited.” Her tone is acerbic. Didn’t she just wake up? How can she be ready to spar sixty seconds after she has opened her eyes?

She crosses her arms and stares at me. Sleep is crusted in the corners of her eyes, and it reminds me that she’s human. In my head, I’ve built her up to be some kind of ridiculously attractive, hostile robot.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing.” I hold out the food. “My mom sent me with breakfast.”

Her lip curls. “Do you live with your parents?”

My chest warms instantly. Not in a good way. This girl knows just what to say to get a reaction from me. And I give in. Every. Fucking. Time. “No, I do not live with my parents. Obviously you think I’m a hick loser with no ambition.”

She rises on her toes, ready with her response. “You think I’m a bimbo who wants to blow kisses at the camera and post them online.”

Okay. She has me there.

“Correction, that’s what I used to think.” I sigh, setting the containers on the ground between us and extending a hand. “Truce?”

She eyes my hand first, then lifts her gaze to my face. Her features soften, her eyes swim with something I have no name for. My chest warms again, but in a way that’s opposite from before.

“Truce,” she murmurs, placing her hand in mine.

Palm to palm, her grip in mine, she swallows hard and her lower lip trembles. She recovers quickly, taking her hand back and swiping the food from the floor.

“Come on,” she says, turning and walking away.

I watch her make her retreat and think of what I just saw.

How long has it been since she has been touched?

This is weird.

I’m tasting familiar flavors, in a house I’ve been in before—those handles on the kitchen cabinets and drawers were done by yours truly—but I’m with someone I know nothing about.

And Brynn doesn’t give anything away. I’ve asked her about her family.

I’m an only child.

I asked why she’s here.

Just needed a break.

Okay. Sure. I understand that. Her evasiveness doesn’t bother me at all.

Nope.

So we eat in silence. It’s unpleasant. I’m not usually a talkative guy, but eating in total silence is annoying, and it’s killing me. In a last-ditch effort to make conversation, I ask her if she’s upset. Her eyes look worried, like she’s holding more than someone her age should carry.

She sighs and points to her shirt. I noticed it the second she opened the door, but I didn’t say anything.

“Fine, I get it.” I hold up my hands and read her shirt. “You don’t wanna taco ‘bout it. Because it’s nacho business.”

She points one bright blue fingernail at me. “It’s nacho business.”

“Yes, yes, I understand.” Irritation creeps into me. This girl is not like anyone I’ve ever met before.

She stands, pushing aside more than half her food. “I’m ready to start.”

I pause, my fork suspended inches from my mouth. It’s loaded with flaky biscuit and lukewarm gravy and it’s going to be as delicious as my previous ten bites. “I’m not done.”

“You eat like a horse,” Brynn whines, flopping back down into her chair.

I take my bite and point the now-empty tines at her plate. “You eat like a bird.”

“I don’t have much of an appetite this morning.” Her words are soft, an admittance. She looks down, to the hands folded in her lap.

“Everything okay?” It’s an automatic question.

Her gaze flies up to my face, eyes bulging.

“Forgot. Sorry. Taco, nacho, funny shirt, blah blah blah.”

We stand, and I rinse the containers in her sink after she knocks the food into the garbage. She leans an elbow on the counter and watches me. “Please tell your mother I said thank you. It was delicious.”

Using a kitchen towel to dry my hands, I inform Brynn she can compliment my mother herself. “She wants to meet Vale Handyman Services newest employee.”

“When?”

“Sometime soon.”

“Right. Um, okay.” She clasps her hands in front of herself, twisting them. “I need to brush my teeth. I’ll be right back.” She turns from the room. In a moment I hear water running, then the faint sounds of bristles scrubbing teeth. I walk to the living room and look around. There are no decorations, no pictures, nothing to show that a person with a personality like Brynn’s lives here.

Weird.

Brynn’s silent on the drive to work. She stares out the window, but her muscles are tense. Normally I’m fine with quiet drives, but it’s hard with a near-stranger sitting in my truck. Especially one who confounds me as she does.

“Brynn?”

“Hmmm?” She looks at me.

I had no question, really. No reason to say her name.

“What’s your last name again?” Lame. I already know it, but I seized.

“Montgomery.” She continues to look out the window as she answers.

“Thanks. That will help me when I Google you later.” I smile because it’s a joke, but to Brynn, it’s obviously not a joke. Her head whips toward me, her face pale.

“Hey,” I say softly. Without thinking, I reach over and find her, my fingers brushing along the outside of her forearm. “I was just kidding.”

She nods, a quick, almost manic motion. “Sure,” she says, her voice shaking. “No big deal.”

The hand that was touching her goes back to the steering wheel, even though I really don’t want it to. I want to keep touching Brynn. I want to sink into her obvious agony and shoulder some of the burden. I don’t even know why.

The next four hours are spent changing locks. The house we’re working on is a new-build, and the homeowner wants new locks now that they are moved in.

Brynn is smart, strong, and a quick learner. Teaching her what to do isn’t as hard as I thought it might be. Her eyebrows furrow as she listens to me, and she purses her lips. When she concentrates, the tip of her tongue darts out and rests against her upper lip.

By the time we’re done it’s later than I thought, and my stomach is rumbling. I find her finishing the last lock. “Lunch?” I ask her.

She tucks her hair behind her ear and steps back. “Can you check this, please? I want to make sure it’s done right.”

I reach out, testing the lock, and nod. “Good work. It’ll keep the bad guys out.” I wink at her, but somehow I’ve misstepped again. Her eyes cloud with fear. Dammit. Every time I open my mouth, I’m saying the wrong thing to her.

She clears her throat. “Lunch would be good.”

I find the homeowner and say goodbye, letting them know my mom will send them an invoice.

We head for my truck and climb in. “Where to?” she asks. “I haven’t explored much past my house.”

“Route 66 diner. They make my favorite sandwich. My mom’s best friend works there, and so does your neighbor, Cassidy.”

I slow to a stop at a red light and look at Brynn. She’s drumming a beat on her thigh with her fingertips and gazing out the windshield. It’s not hard to see what Cassidy saw the day she met Brynn, but I see what Cassidy missed. The hollows in her eyes, and the fear that slips through the cracks of her tough exterior. There is far more to her, and I don’t think she will ever give it away.

From our handful of interactions I’ve learned not to ask her personal questions, so if I want to learn about her, I’m going to have to get creative.

“What did you think of today?”

I’m shooting for a casual tone as we get out of my truck and walk to the diner. She’s one step ahead of me and gets to the door first. She reaches for the handle, but I’m faster, reaching around her and pulling open the door. She stiffens, looking up at me before stepping in.

“This isn’t a date. I can open a door.” Her voice is quiet, matching the volume of the diner. It’s late for lunch, and there are only a few people in here eating.

Irritation surges. “It’s called basic manners, Brynn. It doesn’t mean I think this is a date.”

“Sorry,” she mutters.

Her apology takes me by surprise. I was expecting a scathing reply.

Snagging one menu off the small hostess stand, I lead her to a nearby open booth. “Let’s get you fed. I think you might be hangry,” I say, sliding in.

Brynn laughs, and then covers her mouth with her hand. She slides in across from me, dragging the menu with her as she goes.

“You’re slipping,” I tell her, sitting back and resting my arm across the top of the booth.

She looks up. “What are you talking about?”

“Your tough girl act. It’s slipping a little. You just laughed,” I point out. “Next you might smile, and then a pig will fly by the window, and who knows what else might start happening.”

“Hell might freeze over?”

I shrug. “Anything is possible.”

She looks back down to the menu. “I’ve been known to smile a time or two.”

“I’ll be on the lookout for that,” I tell her, waving at Mary as she comes out from the kitchen. Mary’s hands are full, but her eyes grow wide as she takes in the beautiful girl sitting across from me.

I usually eat here alone, or with my mom, sometimes with Anthony, but definitely never with a girl. Not since Desiree. After she left town, Mary informed me she never liked her anyway, and promised next time she’d tell me what she thought about someone. There hasn’t been a next time, but the way Mary is hurrying over it looks like she’s remembering her promise. This ought to be interesting.

“Well, hello there,” Mary says when she arrives. She sets down two glasses of ice water and Brynn looks up. Mary grins and Brynn actually has a normal response. She smiles.

“Is it cold in here?” I ask, teasing her. Her foot swiftly connects with my ankle.

Mary gives me a curious glance and refocuses on Brynn. “I haven’t seen you in here before.” She sticks out a hand. “I’m Mary.”

“Brynn Montgomery,” she answers, shaking Mary’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Brynn and Mary make small talk, and I try not to fall out of my seat. Since when is this girl nice? I don’t know what to do with nice Brynn. Mean Brynn is better. Mean Brynn can be kept at arm’s length. Mean Brynn—

“Connor?”

“Huh? Sorry, I—” I shake my head. “Never mind. I was somewhere else. What did you say?”

Mary scrunches up her eyes, like she’s trying to figure me out. It’s the same face she makes when she’s looking at her iPhone.

“I asked if you wanted your usual.”

I shake my head. “Monte Cristo this time. Thank you, Mary.”

“Umm hmm.” She gives me an extra long look before she turns to Brynn.

Brynn holds the menu out to Mary. “I’m not sure where he went just now,” she says to her, but she smirks at me. She’s enjoying this far too much.

“I think I know where he went,” Mary says as she turns to go.

Brynn either didn’t hear Mary, or she’s acting like she didn’t. “Today was fun,” she says, reaching for her straw and pushing the ice around her cup.

“Fun?”

“Yeah. It’s useful knowledge.”

“I suppose so. You really only need to change locks after you’ve moved in somewhere.”

“Sure,” Brynn agrees quickly. I think maybe she’s placating me.

“Or you could buy some of those floor alarms like you have,” I say as casually as I can, trying not to make eye contact with her. Pushing my straw aside with one finger, I drink from the cup and keep my gaze down. I’m trying not to look interested in her answer. Nope, I haven’t been dying to know why you have that floor alarm ever since it blared in my face this morning.

When she says nothing, I try again. “Those are pretty cool.” Those are pretty cool? That might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever said.

She looks at me, her face blank, but the nearly imperceptible twitch of her lips tells me she’s trying not to show emotion. Whether it’s laughing, frowning, or smiling is anybody’s guess.

I switch tactics. “What do you do for fun? When you’re not learning handyman skills from someone as devilishly handsome as me, I mean.”

She rolls her eyes, but they look happy. At least if she won’t crack a smile, I can see her eyes glimmer.

“Back home, I was a nightclub promoter. I taught a barre class, and I went to Mexico to visit my parents.” Her voice gets softer, so I lean in to hear her. Something takes over her whole face as she talks. Wistfulness, I think, and maybe despondence. Fear of her clamming up keeps me from asking why.

“My parents retired to Mexico five years ago. They have a sport fishing tour company, and they take people out and help them fish. They fish themselves, too, and sell it to local restaurants. I loved going, but…” Her eyes lift, meet mine, and it’s like there are steel shutters dropping down over windows. Looking away, she takes a deep breath and asks, “What about you?”

Her voice has changed. She is eager to turn the question to me and relieved that she didn’t keep talking. Like she caught herself from whatever she was about to say. I start slowly, thinking about what just happened, but soon I’m talking at a normal pace as I tell her about my dad.

“It’s hard to see him this way, but there’s nothing anybody can do about it. It might actually be more difficult to watch my mom. She has always been caring and nurturing, but I doubt she ever thought she’d have to care for her husband this way.”

“In sickness and health, Connor.” Brynn tips her head, watching me.

“I know. I just… I don’t know.” I sigh. How can I say what I mean without sounding like a jerk?

“You wish she didn’t have to go through this?”

I nod. “More than anything, I wish he didn’t have to. This might sound awful, but,” I pause, watching her. I’ve never said the words out loud, and I’m afraid to now.

Brynn reaches out, placing her hand on mine, and I don’t even think she knows she’s doing it. “I won’t judge.” She exhales softly. “Believe me, I’m in no position to.”

The warmth of her hand spreads out, circulating through me. Her gaze is kind, her eyes rapt.

“I feel angry at him. His body, I mean. Resentful, too.”

One side of her mouth curls up. She squeezes my hand. “That’s normal.”

“Do you know from experience?”

Her touch disappears, her hand returning to her lap, and she shakes her head. “It’s normal to resent what other people do, and the effects it has on you.”

“How do you know—”

“Are there any other ways it’s affecting you?”

She has barged into my question, and I know what she’s doing, but I allow it.

In my mind, I see my house, the blank canvas in the unfurnished living room, the pristine drop cloth. The place looks like it’s waiting for an artist to arrive, not like one lives there already.

“I used to paint. On canvas. But he got sick, and the family business needed to be run. It’s their sole source of income.”

Mary swoops in quietly, sliding our lunches across the scratched table and refilling our waters, then ducks out. I think it means she likes Brynn. The place is nearly empty now, and there can’t be much for Mary to do. She would stay and chat, but she wants Brynn and I to be alone.

Brynn lifts a French fry to her mouth. “What did you paint?”

“Everything. Anything. Whatever resonated with me.”

“Did you sell them?”

“A few.” I hear the pride in my voice. There’s an incredible feeling that comes with knowing someone wants your work in their home.

“That’s great, Connor.” She bites into her sandwich and sighs contentedly. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

Picking up my sandwich, I take a bite. An idea forms in my head, and I chew on the notion at the same time I’m chewing my food. It might be stupid, and when I say might be I mean it definitely is, but would it really hurt to try?

“You can see my work sometime, if you want.” Using a napkin to wipe breadcrumbs from my lips, I look at her with what I hope is nonchalance. My insides feel the opposite of that.

She takes another bite and chews slowly. Is she aware that across the booth I am dying a slow, painful death brought on by extreme hope?

She swallows and reaches for her water. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she says, wrapping her mouth around the straw. Her gaze drops to the table, avoiding mine.

She says nothing after that, and I fall silent too. The air is thick and filled with awkwardness. We finish lunch without another word. Our second silent and annoying meal of the day. When I’m done, I hop up and go to the cash register where Mary sits reading a paperback book.

“How was everything, hon?” She takes the credit card I’m holding out.

“Great, as always.”

“I like your new employee.” She laughs at my confused look and winks. “I called your mom. I needed to get the scoop on who was with you.”

“Just an employee,” I say, taking back my card and slipping it into my wallet.

“She seems nice. That’s all.” Mary gives me a pointed look.

Brynn arrives beside me and thanks me for lunch. We say goodbye to Mary and head for my truck.

Mary called Brynn nice.

Nice Brynn put her hand on mine and let me tell her all about my dad.

I really like nice Brynn.

I hope she goes back to being mean Brynn soon.