From Finley’s house I drive home to shower and change before my appointment. While I am a contractor, I doubt showing up filthy and soaked with sweat will inspire anyone to hire us.

More than once, after leaving her, Finley drifts into my thoughts. We worked well together. She’s strong and didn’t expect me to do all of the work even though I offered to help. She also made a point to bring up paying me back for the plywood.

I’ve known women who have no problem being taken care of. I appreciate the fact that Finley isn’t like that. Hell, she’s sick and is still working her ass off.

My phone rings while I drive. Since I show up early to my appointment I have time to check my message.

It’s Eli, being his usual overbearing and bossy self. Someone, probably Abby, told him about Finley and the work I’m doing on her house given the fact that in his message he asks if I’ve lost my mind doing free work for a woman I’ve just met.

I decide against calling him back. If I do, we’ll probably argue and I’ll say things I’ll regret. With everything he has going on with Brooke, I’m not surprised he’s calling me. He’s got to be pretty pissed at life and he’s taking it out on me. I didn’t ask for, nor do I need his opinion.

The only opinion that truly matters is Jon’s since I was at her house during work hours. As long as he’s cool with what I’m doing, that’s all I need. He’s a romantic and he’s got Emily involved so I could spend every day for the next month there and he wouldn’t care.

Now, all I have to do is have a word with Abby to encourage her to keep her mouth shut in the future, not that she’ll listen to me. I send her a text anyway.

Then I get to work. This appointment is more successful than the one yesterday. They hire us to take down an interior wall and redo the flooring in that room.

It’s a solid job for clients we’ve worked with before. We also have other previous clients that live on their street. Our trucks have our logo on them and we normally pick up repeat business when other homeowners see us in the area.

I can make sure Jon has some extra business cards on him. He can have one of the guys stick them behind the metal flags on the mailboxes of the street they’re working on.

I head back to the office and am surprised to find Abby waiting for me. I expected a response of some sort to my text. She meets me at the door of my truck.

“Don’t you have a job?” I joke.

“I got a new listing earlier and had a client make an offer on a condo today. Don’t worry about my job, I’m kicking serious Realtor ass at the moment. Now, what’d Eli say to you?” She asks.

“He alluded to me being an idiot who thinks with his dick for the work I’m doing at Fin’s house,” I reply, holding open the door for her.

“Typical Eli,” she mutters.

“Hey Justin,” I wave, once we’re inside.

He lifts his chin and replies, “Noah, Abigail.”

After I close the door to my office behind us I ask, “Abigail?”

She laughs. “I think I intimidate him.”

“Don’t mess with his head,” I order. She rolls her eyes. “Now, why were you talking about me with Eli?”

She settles herself into one of the chairs across from my desk and then shifts in it, trying to get comfortable. I have very comfortable chairs so it’s answering my question that must be bothering her.

“Abby,” I grunt.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “It just came out. I’m sorry.”

“How does what I’m doing just come out?” I question.

Her arms fall to either side of the chair. “I was trying to get him to open up about Brooke so I told him you were interested in someone and how you were helping her out.”

Slumping into my chair I groan. “Why?”

“I know,” she replies. “I’m sorry. I never would have told him if I thought he would lay into you about it.”

“Can you please keep my personal shit to yourself going forward?” I ask.

She nods. “I will. I promise but, Gideon knows, too, and that wasn’t my fault.”

“I told him,” I explain.

She folds her arms across her chest as she cocks her head to the side. “If you’re telling people, why can’t I tell people?”

I love my sister. I want to strangle her every once and a while, like right now, but I do love her.

“Maybe because it’s my information to share,” I counter.

That derails her and she nods. “Did you go over there today?”

I nod.

“Well,” she presses when I don’t give her any more information. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I reply, deciding against telling her I’m going back over there tonight.

“That’s all?” She asks. “You didn’t start working on it or anything?”

“We pulled up the flooring in the kitchen and den and got new subflooring down in the den.”

She blinks. “You did all of that today?”

I shrug. She grins.

“I’m still pissed at you.”

Her smile falls. “I deserve that.”

Seeing her upset is harder than being angry at her. “Alright. You’re forgiven.” I point at her. “As long as you don’t do it again.”

She holds up her hands. “I won’t. I promise. My lips are sealed when it comes to you and Finley. Side note, when did you start calling her Fin?”

Damn it.

“She told me her friends called her that,” I explain, hoping I’m not giving too much away.

“When are you seeing her again?” She asks.

“Don’t worry about it,” I grunt. “Did Eli tell you anymore about what’s going on with him and Brooke?”

She frowns. “You’re seriously not telling me?”

I shake my head and she huffs.

“I told him I’m taking the kids to a movie this week. He wanted to meet me but I don’t want them telling Brooke and her thinking I was trying to play her. That pissed him off, but whatever. I don’t want his bullshit to keep me from seeing my niece and nephews if they end up getting a divorce.”

“How did he take that?” I ask.

Eli has never taken hearing the word no well.

“He was pissed but he doesn’t scare me.”

She’s lucky he’s never unleashed the full power of his wrath on her. If he had, she’d be more concerned about him being pissed.

“Good for you.”

She smirks. It couldn’t have been easy growing up with four brothers. There are plenty of times we drove her crazy. She learned early on how to hold her own.

“We done here?” I ask.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” She argues.

“And have you tell everyone?” I counter.

She stands, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll just find out from Finley.”

“Go for it,” I reply.

Her brows furrow. “You’re so annoying.”

I grin. “I love you too.”

She stomps out of my office. It’s crazy how that never gets old.

“Your sister offered me a hundred bucks to key your truck,” Justin calls out a minute after she’s gone.

“Hold out for two hundred!”

When he doesn’t say anything I assume he took my advice.

A few hours later, once I’m ready to leave, I text Finley to let her know I’m on the way. I pick up food near her house so it’ll still be hot by the time I get there.

She’s waiting for me in her driveway. The outside light above her kitchen door is on and she’s set up a bistro table and two chairs.

“Fancy,” I tease.

She rests her chin on her palm. “Thanks. It was a moving present from my parents.”

I set the takeout bag onto the table. “I hope Chinese is okay.”

“I love Chinese,” she replies and then stands. “What would you like to drink? I have wine, or bottled water.”

I’m typically more of a beer guy but enjoy a glass of wine every now and then, and it might take the edge off a bit if we both have one. “Wine, thanks.”

She walks into her house and returns quickly with two glasses. I lean back in my chair and take a drink. There’s nothing like a New England summer evening. It’s perfect now, but if we stay out once the sun goes down we’ll get eaten alive by mosquitos. Since there’s work to do, we’ll be inside long before they’ll be able to make a feast of us.

While we eat, I try to get to know her better.

“What made you decide to move here?”

Her eyes shift away. “It’s a long story.”

“We have plenty of time,” I counter.

“Parts of it will sound silly,” she argues.

She moved cross-country, to renovate a house in a state she’s never lived in all by herself. Silly isn’t the word I would think of. “You can tell me anything.”

She nods. “I needed a change. I love my family but I needed to get away so I could have a fresh start. The silly part is I could have ended up anywhere. I was waiting to find a house that spoke to me.”

My gaze moves to the kitchen door. “And this one did.”

She nods her head. “When I saw the listing online I knew this was the place I was meant to live.”

“Why?”

She gulps. “It’s going to sound crazy.”

I shrug. “Try me.”

“Well, not all of it is crazy,” she amends, and explains. “The price and location were both right. I looked at hundreds of houses but this one was different. With this house,” her face softens as her eyes move from mine to her house, “it stopped being all about getting away. When I looked at the pictures online I could already imagine what it would look like when it was finished.”

“Abby says that happens all the time with the houses she shows. That when a house speaks to a client they know it’s the one to make an offer on.”

“Yes, this house spoke to me.” Her eyes are bright. “Thanks for not thinking I’m crazy for wanting to fix up this place.”

“It’s not crazy to want to fix something.”

She passes me a fortune cookie and then starts to open the other one. I watch as she breaks it in half and tugs the paper fortune free. Her lips tip up as she reads it.

“What does it say?”

She tilts her head to my unopened cookie. “You first.”

Shaking my head, I don’t argue that her fortune is already out. Once I have it open, my eyes move across the text. There is no fear for the one whose thought is not confused.

“Well.” Impatience coats her words. “Read it.”

I press the paper to my chest. “Why should I?”

She reaches across the table, her hand wrapping around my wrist. “I want to see.”

Her skin is soft and smooth, not yet marred with calluses from work.

Her fortune sits face up in front of her. She lets go of my wrist to grab it when she notices my eyes on it. Instantly, I miss the feel of her touch.

Slowly rising from my chair, I take a step towards her. She twists out of her chair and moves to stand behind it, a wild grin on her face. Who knew fighting over fortune cookie fortunes could be this fun?

“If you run, I’ll catch you,” I taunt.

She laughs. “Maybe it will be me chasing you.”

That’s something I’d like to see.

“You’d never be able to catch me.”

She wets her lips. “I had the school record for the mile in elementary school.”

Dropping back into my seat I laugh and then hand her my fortune. “Okay Flash. Here you go.”

She punches the air to celebrate her victory before taking my fortune, her fingertips brushing against mine as she does. Her sensuous lips move as she reads it.

When she’s done reading she says, “That’s a good one.”

“Are you going to tell me yours?”

She’s still holding hers and keeps mine, putting it behind her fortune. “Be patient. The Great Wall of China wasn’t built in a day.” She holds my gaze as she slips both scraps of paper into her pocket. “Does that mean we should stop for the night?”

Turning my gaze, I look at our empty food containers. “Not a chance. Break’s over. Time to get back to work.”

We quickly clean up, tossing our trash right into her dumpster. Then I follow her into the house, liking the fact that she carried my fortune with her.

“I got my cable set up today,” she brags, showing me her set up.

“That’s good.” I give her a website address to look up. “If you pick floors from here I can get them at cost. This site will show you everything we have in stock.”

“You have in stock? Do you sell flooring?” Her brows knit together in confusion as she studies my face.

I scratch the back of my head. “I don’t sell it, but my family does.”

Her mouth falls open. “Your family sells flooring?”

I nod, “And plywood, and drywall, and shingles, and well, you get the idea. My family owns a hardware store. If it’s home related, they sell it.”

“It’s like you’re my fairy home building Godmother,” she teases.

My face twists. “Godmother?”

She covers her mouth to muffle a laugh. “Sorry. Godfather.”

I give her my best Brando, stroking my chin. “I can handle Godfather.” She smiles at me in return, causing me to stare at her mouth. I clear my throat. “So, you see any floors you like?”

She turns back to her computer and starts to excitedly scroll and click through the pictures. “I like this one. Oh and this one! And what do you think about this one?”

I move to stand behind her. Instead of a desk, she has both her TV and laptop sitting on a folding card table. She points out her three top choices to me.

“The thing to remember about a dark wood floor is that it shows everything, including every speck of dust.”

Her nose wrinkles. “I’m not a fan of dusting everyday.”

I point to her next choice. “This flooring is sturdy and will hold up well over time.”

“I like the sound of that.” She nods, still looking at the screen.

Then I point to her last choice. “This one is my favorite of the three. I have it installed in my house if you’d like to check it out in person.”

She gulps. “Go to your house?”

I shrug, taking a step back. “I did say you could stay in my spare room if you’d like.”

She’s shaking her head before I even finish speaking. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Unable to stop myself, I ask, “Why not?”

“I don’t know what to think of you. This all seems crazy, everything that you’ve done already and are still doing for me.”

“I don’t mind.”

She doesn’t seem convinced. “Have you ever done this before? Is rescuing damsels in renovation distress your thing?”

“My thing? No, I’ve never done anything like this.”

She pushes away from her computer. “What am I supposed to think? I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth—”

I cut her off. “So what if it isn’t normal. Is moving cross country to a place you’ve never even visited before normal?”

She frowns.

Deciding to stop before I push too far, I shift the conversation back to the floors. “If you like the flooring on the website I can order whichever one you want.”

“Fine,” she says, not looking at me. “I like the last one the best. It’s exactly what I pictured in my head.”

“I’ll find out tomorrow if they have all you need in stock. Do you want the same flooring in the front rooms?”

She nods, standing. Since I already have her measurements, it’ll be easy to put the order in.

“I want it to all match.” Her head turns as her gaze moves across the room.

“What is your vision?” I ask, kicking myself for not asking her sooner.

“What?” She breathes.

I gesture to the room around us. “The other day you said you could picture this place all done. Walk me through it. What’s your dream?”

She smiles shyly, her gaze again moving across the room. “Simple, clean, and comfortable. I want the walls and floors to be neutral so I can change out colors with rugs and throw pillows whenever I want.”

“What about your kitchen?” I ask, my head tilting toward the doorway.

She walks to the kitchen and I follow her as she points to each spot as she explains her vision. “I want a deep farmhouse sink, and an over-sized refrigerator.” She moves around the small area and stands with her hands out next to her. “The gas stove will go here and I want this area for prep with the dishwasher under it.”

As she describes her perfect kitchen, her entire face lights up with excitement. All I can do is stare.

“Do you like to cook?”

She smiles outright. “I love to cook.”

“What color cabinets do you want?” I ask, positive that she not only knows but probably has a picture of her dream kitchen either in her mind or saved on her computer.

“White shaker style lower cabinets and glass front upper cabinets.”

Knew it.

“Backsplash?”

“White subway tiles,” she replies without waiting a beat.

“A classic,” I agree. “It’ll look great once we put it all in.”

Her face softens. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

I decide against giving her a list of my failings and instead tell her, “If I think of something I’ll let you know.”

She stares at me, long enough for me to worry if I have something on my face.

“I told my mother about you,” she says, surprising me.

I swallow hard. “And what did you say?”

“I told her you were helping me with the house.”

Somehow, I know she’s not telling me everything.

“What was her reaction?”

She shrugs. “She was happy I had help but was concerned about your motives.”

“My motives,” I repeat.

She nods.

Truth is, she should be worried about my motives. She wants to relax in front of her fire in her fixed up house and I want her in my bed.

She waits for me to say something more, maybe even to come clean about why I’m really doing this.

I’m smarter than that. “Did you tell her all the progress you’ve made?”

She blinks at my subject change and then nods her head. “I did and I told her I’d never have managed it without you.”

“I disagree. You could and would have done this. It would have taken longer, but that isn’t a surprise if you were working alone. Many hands make light work.”

“You give me too much credit.”

My praise is making her uncomfortable so to change the subject, I say the first thing that I think of. “Tell me about your ex-husband.”

Her mouth falls open and she walks away.

“Fin!” I call, following her.

“We’ve been doing too much talking when we should have been working.”

It’s clearly too soon to ask about her husband.

“I’m sorry I pried.”

She waves me off and straps on her kneepads. “It’s fine. Should I grab a new sheet of plywood while you saw this part?”

Seems the conversation portion of our evening has ended and the manual labor part has begun.

“Sounds good.”

Any communication between us for the next two hours is limited to me giving directions and her accepting them. Each and every attempt I make to steer our conversation back toward anything else, she shuts down.

Her ex must have done a number on her for her to be this tight lipped on the subject. That, or she was the one in the wrong and is dealing with guilt. Could this house and all the work she plans to do to it be some kind of self-imposed penance?

“Can you press down right here?” I ask, pointing to one corner of the subfloor.

She moves, kneeling where I asked and pressing down to help hold the wood in place. My gaze travels over her and I freeze. The way she’s bent, I can see right down her shirt. My eyes drink her in until I manage to tear them away. This may be the most painful renovation of my life.