Chapter Eight
Nick dreamed he was lying next to Eve on soft white sheets. She was staring at him while she touched herself. Her hands stroked along her slim waist, over her belly, and between her legs. He was hard and aching and reaching for her, wanting to replace her fingers with his own, to slide inside of her, but there was a vibrator in her hand, and it began to buzz, pulsing, taking his place—
Bzzzt. His eyes opened. What the hell? No one texted him, and not this early.
Eve.
Are you awake? Can I come help with the barn demolition? What time are you leaving your house?
He closed his eyes again, wanting to get back to his dream, to see if he could get her to trade her toy for him, but he needed to answer her text, too. His first inclination was Hell yes! because he had fun when she was around. In spite of her compulsive organizing—she’d practically planned a company picnic on the way home from the bar last night—he liked her. What the hell? He was Mr. One Day at a Time, he reminded himself, and she was…not.
He needed space, because things were getting intense, really fast. At least on his part. Because the idea of a picnic with Eve and his redneck friends actually appealed to him, and that was crazy. The whole thing was crazy. He should give it some space.
Aaand, before he could muster the willpower to text her back with No, it’s too dangerous and dirty and you’d be a distraction, his phone rang.
“Hey, Nick. I didn’t wake you, did I? I wanted to catch you before you took off this morning. I don’t know if you saw my text, so I thought I’d call—”
“Slow down, Ace,” he told her. “I haven’t had any coffee yet. My brain can’t keep up.”
Franklin snorted at the foot of the bed and raised an ear in his direction.
“Sorry”—she breathed at the other end of the connection—“I wonder if I can tag along today and help.”
“Why?” It was the first thing that came to his mind. “Why would you want to muck around in the weeds and risk splinters and pulled muscles when you don’t have to?”
“Why are you doing it?”
“Well…” He pondered, his brain slowly coming online. “It’s my job, for one thing. I have to get this wood ready to build your tasting center, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, “but why is this your job?”
Jesus. He needed a few donuts before this conversation, but he answered anyway. “Because I like it, and I’m good at it.”
“What do you like about it?”
It was what he knew how to do, for one thing. But why did he like it? “I dunno. I guess I like taking things that are falling and useless apart and figuring out what they can become. Bringing a little order into the world.”
“Well, there you go,” she said. “Order. I’m good at that. And I want to learn things. I may never be good at everything I learn, but at least I’ll know stuff. That’s what I like.” He thought of her with her fix-it manual. She wanted to be ready for anything. Like a zombie apocalypse, in which she needed to tear down old barns to make forts to protect herself and her family.
“So it’s not just office supplies you collect, it’s job experience?”
Her laugh was husky, and he felt it low down.
“Kind of.”
He sighed. “Okay. Wear jeans and good boots. I don’t suppose you have steel toes, do you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she told him.
“Which job did you get those for?”
“Warehousing. I spent a couple of weeks in a distribution center.”
“Of course you did.”
After agreeing to pick her up on his way to the barn site, he hung up and let Franklin out to do his morning thing and went to do his own. He turned on the shower and waited for it to warm up. Normally he wouldn’t shower before going to spend the day sweating in the summer heat, he’d save the water until later, but he was man enough to admit to himself that he wanted Eve to see him at his cleanest, if not his best.
He was just drying off when his phone rang again. Maybe she’d changed her mind. The thought gave him a pang, but he got a bigger jolt when he saw it was the hospital.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Mr. Baker, this is Ruth Perry. I’m part of the team taking care of your dad, and I’m afraid something’s come up with his care. We need you to come by the hospital as soon as possible.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Well…it seems your father’s decided that it’s time to go home. He was supposed to be transported to the physical rehabilitation floor this afternoon, but he doesn’t want to go.”
“Oh no.” Nick groaned. “He can’t come here.”
“We agree. That’s why we need you to come to the hospital to talk with him. We need you to convince him to go to therapy.”
Nick hung up and dragged on a pair of jeans. He slid his feet into his boots and grabbed the phone again.
After he called Mason and assured him that he’d only be an hour late and that he’d buy lunch, he called Eve.
“So,” he said. “How do you feel about adding ‘geriatric psych nurse’ to your resume? I need you to come and convince Raleigh to stay in the hospital so my head doesn’t explode.”
“I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I brought all the fixings.” Nick handed Eve a paper bag from McDonald’s when she climbed in his truck a little while later. “And I got you one of those pancake sandwich things.” He handed her another bag.
“Wow, thanks.” She’d been too nervous to eat before they left, which was dumb, except that there had been that kissing yesterday, which made her think more kissing might be possible. And she pretty much hoped there would be. She wasn’t at all hungry now, because, being right next to him, she was really thinking about getting his mouth—and other parts—right next to hers, but she ate to keep her own mouth busy.
Nick wasn’t dressed any differently today than he had been yesterday. He wore another pair of jeans with a splotch of stain along the right leg and a tear in the knee, another T-shirt that had seen better days. His hair was still a little damp from a recent shower, and he’d shaved. And he was even more irresistible than he’d been the day before.
The memory of the kisses they’d shared had kept her tossing and turning all night. She woke half a dozen times, always with the feeling of wanting just a little bit more of his lips on hers, his body against hers, his soft laugh in her ear, sending shivers along her spine.
She’d been nervous about calling to ask if she could come along for the barn demolition, which was nuts. She never hesitated to ask someone if she could go with them while they worked. She’d done ride alongs with the county sheriff, helped the old veterinarian from Frog’s Hollow deliver horses, worked a few days in the cafeteria of the local high school, all in the name of learning stuff.
This was just more stuff, right?
But it was stuff with Nick. Tall, handsome Nick with the big, easy smile and the dark shadows in his eyes. She’d realized last night that, in spite of his laid-back attitude and easy come, easy go life philosophy, there were things he kept locked away. Something that made the shadows clear away a little when she told him how excited she was to go with him. Was it because she was interested in his work, or was it because it was him?
“So what’s going on with your dad?”
“He’s trying to escape from the hospital, apparently.”
“Escape?”
“Well. He wants to come home.”
“Can he come home?”
Nick’s expression made Eve laugh out loud. “God, no. He still can’t get to the bathroom and back on his own, but I know he won’t ask for help with anything—not that I want to help with that. If he comes home, he’ll want to come to work with me and tell me what to do since he can’t, which will drive me crazy, and you’ll have a murder-suicide on your hands.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He shot her a pleading look. “You’ve got to help me convince him to stay for rehab. Please.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
…
Mr. Baker was finishing his breakfast when they arrived. Or, rather, he was at the tail end of complaining about his food.
They could just hear him in the hallway, over the voices of an old western movie blaring from the television mounted on the wall across from his bed.
“If you can’t bring me some God damned salt, darlin’ don’t bother with lunch. It’s bad enough these eggs have never seen the ass end of a chicken. If you can’t disguise the fact that this food came from a plastics factory by drowning it in salt, I’ll just wait until I get home to eat. I bet my damned dog’s eating better than this.”
Nick stopped at the doorway to let Eve enter the room before him, so she was the first one Mr. Baker saw. His face lit up.
“Evie! You came to rescue me, didn’t you? Thank the Lord!”
“Uh, well, gee, Mr. Baker. Really I’m here—”
Nick stepped forward and Mr. Baker caught sight of his son.
“Well it’s about God damned time you showed up here, Nicholas.” The old man shoved the tray table out of the way and groped through the bed sheets until he found the remote.
He hit the mute button, then started stabbing at another button.
“Yes, Mr. Baker?” came a tired voice over the remote.
“Is this the nurses’ station?”
“Yes, it is.”
“You can send somebody to get these wires offa me. My boy’s here to take me home.”
“No, I’m not,” Nick said, taking the remote from his father’s hand. “Never mind, ma’am,” he said into it. “We’re fine for now.”
“What the hell?” Raleigh protested, trying to snatch the remote back from Nick, who held it out of reach.
“Are you giving the staff here a hard time?” Nick asked. “What’s going on?”
“I’m done. They want to move me to some stupid geriatric floor. I’m not gonna get locked up there with the droolers and get stuck in an adult diaper.” He crossed his arms and stuck his bottom lip out. “Besides. Miss Evie needs me over to the distillery.”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a nursing home, Dad, it’s a rehab floor. For physical therapy.”
“You can put mascara on a cow, but it’s still gonna shit in the living room. I ain’t going.”
Nick looked about ready to blow, so Eve decided to offer her two cents.
“Mr. Baker, I hate to say it, but I think Nick’s right. They need to keep you for a few more days so they can help you get your strength back.”
“But what about your project?” he asked. “You need that job done, or all hell’s gonna break loose, isn’t it? One of these days your mama’s gonna show up down there and open up a can of Whoop Ass on everyone.”
Nick’s neck appeared to really be itching right now, because he had his head down and his hand back there tearing off a sheet of skin. And not looking at Eve or his father.
“Actually, Nick’s doing a pretty good job of keeping the show rolling.”
Raleigh snorted. “If he’s gonna be my employee, he’s gonna have to do things my way. You leave it up to him, you’ll have Louie the Ninety-ninth fancy-ass shit with sequins in your lobby.”
“Oh, I think he’s got a good idea of what it is I’m looking for.”
After a deep breath, Nick said, “Dad, I’m not your employee. We are not in business together. I’m just filling in. But everything’s under control. Really.” His hands were hanging open at his sides, but Eve had the impression of white knuckles nonetheless.
“I doubt it. You don’t know a damned thing about the project, for one thing,” Raleigh said.
“I’m pretty much up to speed. Eve’s very thorough with the notes she’s got.” He shot her a sideways grin.
“I can’t argue with that. She’s probably got every damned screw labeled with colored stickers right about now, don’t she?”
Nick’s grin grew.
“Hey! I’m just organized, is all.”
“That’s true,” both men said in synchrony.
“So anyway, Mr. Baker, you need to stay here and get your strength back.”
“I don’t know what the hell I need strength for,” the old man griped. “I’m just going home to die. Alone. With no one but Franklin, and he’ll probably just hang around to gnaw on my bones once I’m done breathing.”
“Oh, for crying out loud. You’re not dying.” Nick blew out a breath.
“I might as well. Since you’re here, ready to take over everything I’ve achieved. What does anyone need me for?”
“I’m not taking over your business! Just this job for a few more days.”
“Oh, we still need you, Mr. Baker!” Eve couldn’t let him think he wasn’t important. “We need you to consult on the construction of the bar until you’re in shape to take back over.”
Nick looked like he wanted to protest, but only opened and closed his mouth a few times.
She opened her eyes wide at him, and without uttering a sound, tried to send a telepathic message, “Go along with me or I leave you to deal with him alone.” He apparently heard her, because he turned around and went to look out of the window.
“So it’s settled then, Mr. Baker. You’ll go to the rehab floor, and as soon as the therapists agree that you’re ready to get around on your own, you can come to work with Nick and help finish the building. Even if they want you to stay here at night, I’ll see if we can spring you for a couple of hours on Monday, okay?”
Raleigh’s smile totally trumped Nick’s scowl.