9

Struggling out of the twisted sheets Cali carefully extracted herself from the air mattress’s clutches. She shuffled for the door and yelped as she stumbled over the paint can booby-trap she’d set the night before. The toes she’d skinned on the walk to the bus stop throbbed in protest as did her bladder. Setting the landmines aside, she opened the door and limped to the bathroom. A yawn stole her breath. As comfortable as the new bed was, she’d been unable to relax. She’d tensed at every little noise in a new place. Logically she knew that if Jarek had wanted to try anything he would’ve by now, but that wasn’t enough to shut off her suspicious side. She’d only slept after he’d left for work.

Half a pot of coffee and a frozen breakfast burrito revitalized her enough to get moving. She wanted Jarek to be able to see progress when he got home. The fact that they’d finished sanding and prepping the night before would make that easier. The entry hall, living and dining room were ready for primer. Screwing the roller onto the telescoping pole she turned on the radio and got to work.

Arms aching and stomach growling, Cali turned in a slow circle to survey her work. She smiled in pride. The quality primer had done a good job of covering the seams with just one coat. Another example that Jarek knew what he was doing. Opening a cold bottle of water, she downed half before coming up for air with a sigh of pleasure. The neon numbers on the microwave display caught her attention and she frowned in surprise. It was already a quarter past five. No wonder she was hungry.

Opening the refrigerator again, she looked at the pork chops and asparagus he’d said they’d have for dinner. The plastic bottle crumpled slightly as she turned it in her hand. What time did he get home from work? Did he expect her to have dinner ready? How in the hell did you even fix asparagus? She grimaced. Snagging a piece of string cheese out of the crisper drawer, she turned to lean her back against the door.

There was a whole lot about her current situation that was a question mark. A big one that made her stomach churn was, what did Jarek get out of this arrangement? Was a little manual labor worth moving a stranger in with you? He didn’t seem in a rush to get the house finished. If he was wouldn’t he have bribed his construction friends to help him out? He’d scoffed at the orangutan’s feeble cover-up but still made it clear to her last night that he didn’t expect her to clean up after him around here. He’d even gone as far as to tell her to let him know if the renovation mess got to her. That had been cool of him, but open and smelling of clean lumber and primer, his house seemed like an oasis after the Johnson’s.

She absently scratched at her forearm, then looked down at the paint spatter that dotted her hands and arms like light colored freckles. A shower sounded good right now. She yawned. A nap would be better, but she didn’t want to mess up her new bedding. The shower first. Worst case scenario she took another before bed, depending on what Jarek wanted to do tonight. She grinned. Not exactly a hardship in the Bond shower.

The throaty rumble of Jarek’s truck pulled her from her catnap. Stretching aching muscles, she forced herself to sit up and rub the sleep from her eyes. She glanced out the window wondering what time it was and how long until she could go back to sleep. Hopefully, the house’s sounds would be a little more familiar on the second night. She yawned. The back door slammed and she heard the heavy tread of his boots. She silently prayed it hadn’t been a shit day for him. Levering herself off the bed, she hurried to the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said with a nod and a weary smile. He set a couple of bags on the island along with the small cooler he carried his lunch in.

“Hey.”

“The grill is warming up. Have you eaten?”

She shook her head. “I was waiting for you.”

“I’m not usually this late. One of the places we just finished, lost part of its roof and there was damage at the new site.”

He emptied one of the bags, tucking paper wrapped packages away in the freezer and refrigerator. She’d teased him when he’d wrinkled his nose at Walmart meat the night before. It seemed the superstore was an okay place to buy everything else, but meat came from a butcher.

Noticing it was almost seven, she nodded and moved around the island. “No big deal. Tell me how to make the asparagus and I’ll help.”

“I drizzle it with olive oil, season it with garlic salt and pepper and then either bake or grill it depending on what else I’m fixing. Tonight, I can throw it on the grill with the chops,” he said wiping out the inside of his lunch box and washing his hands.

Turning the lazy Susan in the corner cabinet she found the olive oil and spices he’d mentioned.

“Grab me the seasoned salt and Worcestershire sauce too, will you?” he asked shaking water off his hands and looking around for a dishtowel.

He yelped when she snapped him with it. Cali burst into laughter but scurried to put the island between them when he whirled on her. Jarek stalked her around the quartz rectangle. Holding her breath, she kept inching back, watching his body for any sign he was going to lunge. Had she made a mistake? She couldn’t tell by his face. Was the twist of his lips amusement or a predatorial sneer as he closed in on his prey? Jarek leaped forward, snatching the towel from her hand. Darting under his arm, she ran. His boots thudded behind her. She almost made it to the front door when a loud crack heralded a stinging line of fire across her right ass cheek.

Jarek’s laughter restarted her heart. One hand on the door knob she reached back with the other to rub her ass as she shot him a reproachful look. He grinned, wiping his hands on the vicious dishtowel. No menace or aggression rolled off him, just a tinge of smugness. Barely three feet away how could he look so non-threatening? With his cowlicks making his brown hair stand on end and blue eyes twinkling, he looked like a naughty little boy. It contrasted with the wide shoulders and work-roughened hands. He was a mess of contradictions. She shook her head and stuck her tongue out as she dashed back past him, tugging the towel from his fingers.

“Come on, grill master. I’m starving.”

Half an hour later she leaned off her bar stool to bump his shoulder with hers. “I didn’t know pork chops could taste this good,” she mumbled around a mouthful. “Carol pan fried them and they always came out tasting like dried leather.”

Jarek made a face, spearing a piece of asparagus. “Grilling sears in the juices.”

“When I was cooking I put them in the oven with Shake and Bake.”

“Mmm, I’d forgotten about Shake and Bake. That’s going on the grocery list.”

Cali grinned at the look of delight on his face. “How are you so skinny?”  

“I’d blame it on the job, but I have some co-workers that aren’t so svelte,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Good metabolism I guess.”

Forking a spear of asparagus, she nibbled on it. “I’m afraid to cook for you. You’re a bit of a food snob.”

“What?” he asked, his surprise amusing.

She waved her fork. “Asparagus. Steak last night. Wally’s meat department isn’t good enough for you.”

Jarek dropped his attention toward his plate, color darkening his face. “I’m not picky about my food. I’ll eat anything,” he mumbled. “And I prefer the butcher shop because they’ll package things in the quantity that I want and the paper keeps things better in the freezer.”

Cali opened her mouth to apologize and closed it again. It was obvious she’d struck a nerve of some sort. Jarek hunched over his food, shoulders around his ears like he wanted to be invisible or he was expecting a blow. His easy humor was gone. Embarrassment and something deeper hung between them. Taking the last couple of bites, he stood and put his plate in the dishwasher. She watched him grab the other bag off the counter and leave the kitchen. The whine of some sort of power tool broke the stilted silence a couple of minutes later.

Finishing the remainder of her dinner took effort. Her stomach twisted. Putting away her dishes, she puttered in the kitchen, cleaning up before heading for her bedroom. She stopped short. Jarek stood in her doorway, his back to her. Fury rose in her, images of her keepsake box smashed and belongings strewn leaping to mind.

“Did you find what you’re looking for, asshole?” she ground out.

He straightened, turning slightly. His expression was indecipherable. “I wasn’t looking for anything. I thought you might be more comfortable with a sturdier lock on your door.”

Her eyes dropped to the drill in his hand. Bending over he picked up the empty bag and a plastic clamshell. He pulled a set of keys out of the packaging and held them out to her.

“It’s a deadbolt. Turn the knob on the inside or use the key if you want to lock it when you’re leaving. These are the only keys.”

She didn’t realize she’d opened her hand until the keys pressed into her palm. Jarek walked past her without another word. Turning the keys in her hand she looked at the circular lock inches above the door knob. It didn’t look that big, but it was huge to her. She closed her fist around the keys. Metal bit into her flesh as she struggled with guilt and the tears it brought on. He’d invited her into his home, fed her, ferried her around, even put up with her attempts at humor, and she’d thrown insults and accusations at him. How in the hell did she make this right?