Chapter 5

Saturday 2.35pm

Brooke

It’s been hours since Carter went up for a shower. And if it weren’t for the occasional sounds of hammering, I’d be more worried.

But if he doesn’t want to talk about his family or his private life, I’m not going to push him to.

I busy myself by scrubbing the kitchen floor, frowning at the generator as it hums noisily.

I alternate between cleaning, checking the weather, and loading the fire so we stay warm.

I dust the old radiators and screw my face up at the dead insects clinging to the cobwebs.

When my stomach is grumbling at me, I pick up all my cleaning supplies and go back towards the kitchen.

I pause at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the banister as I look up in the hopes Carter might be visible.

My stomach prods me to move when I don’t seem to want to shift. I detour to the laundry room and ditch all my cleaning supplies.

I’m washing my hands at the sink when he finally walks into the room.

He doesn’t appear to have showered. If anything, he looks dirtier. Soot is on his clothing, paint splatters on his fingers, and what looks like glue or putty smeared on his t-shirt.

I should be more pleased he’s keeping to our arrangement. But I’m not used to relying on someone.

I learned the hard way; it’s a bad idea to think people will do what they say they will.

When he opens the refrigerator to grab a beer, I frown at how easily he’s assimilated into my space and into my life.

He slumps into the chair, his eyes on me as he downs half his beer then wipes the sweat off his brow.

When his eyes meet mine, my mouth runs dry, heart suddenly jumping about in my chest.

A tiny smile flickers at his lips, but his fierce gaze remains on me until I have to tear my gaze away.

I take a few things for lunch out of the refrigerator while I try not to think about Nate’s loan.

My hands are trembling as I assemble a pile of ham and cheese sandwiches for us.

I turn around to give him a late lunch, but he’s busy fiddling with the generator. The noise dulls as he flicks a switch. He looks at me, still leaning down as he speaks in a low voice. “So we can talk,” he explains.

I nod and take a seat at the table, trying to appear calmer than I feel. His presence is both comforting and disconcerting.

That I barely know him but slept with him in a heartbeat is either a testament to him or to my emotional instability.

Despite the generator being off, neither of us say a word as we eat. Thick tension fills the silence as I force down my food.

Carter demolishes four sandwiches and reaches for a muffin I left on the table.

He finally speaks, but what he says isn’t what I expected him to say. “I had a call from Andy. He’s got hold of a snowplow and since the weather’s clearing, he’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

Carter drains the last of his beer while my mind spins wildly as I try to formulate a response. “Oh,” is all I can come up with.

His face shifts into a frown as he leans a little closer. “You going to be alright?”

I return his frown with one of my own and shrug. “Of course.”

Though it’s nice of him to ask, I can’t help wonder why he is. What did he think I’d say? No? Please stay and look after me?

Even if I wanted him to. I’m not about to risk the rejection after he made it perfectly clear this was just for the weekend.

I cock my head at him as he slowly chews another muffin. But what if it’s not? What if I wanted him for longer?

Would he even consider it? Or flat out turn me down?

My already battered heart wouldn’t take another beating.

Carter raises his chin a little and licks some chocolate off his lip. A shudder of lust trickles down to my core.

Judging by the heat washing through my body and the way he’s looking hungrily at me, like two incredible times isn’t enough to satisfy his appetite, not asking him for more than sex is going to be way harder than I thought.

***

Carter

I’m a prick. A total and utter prick. But knowing this might be the last night I stay, is making my fingers twitch.

Brooke’s cheeks are warming, and I’m pretty certain it has everything to do with the way I’m looking at her.

She blows out a long breath and places her hands on the table. “You didn’t get to have a shower?”

I shake my head. “Decided to fix a few things while the water heated.”

Her lips purse, uncertainty written on her flushed face. “Oh. What sort of things?”

Even though I know where it’ll lead, I say it anyway. “Why don’t we go take a look?”

She scrunches up her face but gets up from her chair. “Okay.”

Brooke’s hot on my heels as we walk down the hallway. She pauses at the newly fixed hole, and her eyes nearly pop out of her head.

She sucks in a breath as she squints at me. “Um, thank you. I didn’t know you noticed that...”

I lean against the wall and brush my lips against hers. “I notice everything about you.”

I grin at the shocked expression she’s wearing. If she’s happy about the wall, I can only imagine how pleased she’ll be when she sees what else I’ve done.

We take the stairs, side by side, her eyes flicking about like she’s either nervous or worried.

When we get to the landing, she stands wide-eyed and a little out of breath as she takes in the amount of work I put in over the last few hours.

I fold my arms, eyes on her as she takes cautious steps, checking everything out.

The paint is still wet where I’ve patched holes, drop cloths covering the old floors as she turns and swallows hard. “This is, this is incredible. I had no idea you’d done so much.”

I shrug like it’s no consequence even though my back and shoulders are aching. “I’m not good at sitting on my hands. I needed to keep busy.”

Her eyes travel upward to where I scrubbed the water stains off the ceiling and repainted. “You painted the ceiling?”

I nod though she’s not looking at me, just slowly shaking her head and staring at the floor. “This is more than I can…”

She doesn’t look at me, just keeps her eyes on the floor. But there’s a wobble to her voice. “I didn’t expect you, sorry…I’m not used to this. Nate didn’t know how to, or want to, sorry, I just need a minute.”

Before I can tell her I enjoy fixing things up, she’s spinning on her heel and retreating into her bedroom.

I wait for a couple seconds, listening to the decreasing wind signaling the blizzard is coming to an end before I give her some space and head towards the bathroom.

I run the water and wait till it’s lukewarm before grabbing a fluffy towel off the hanger.

I strip everything off, pull my cell out of my jeans pocket, leave it on the sink, and dump my dirty clothes on the bathroom floor.

I step under the water, thinking about what else I can get done before Andy arrives when cold air blasts me.

I sneak a look out the curtain and find Brooke gathering up my clothes. She catches me looking and gives me a shy smile. “I got an extension cord so I could plug in the washing machine downstairs. I’m doing a load of laundry.”

I tilt my head, water running down my chest as I frown. “I don’t have anything else to wear.”

The tiniest of smirks appears before her cheeks pink. “I’ll get you a robe.”

I don’t have any time to protest before she disappears and closes the door.

I stand under the water, shaking my head, bewildered at her willingness to do my laundry.

Maybe she’s like this with everyone? She is going into the hospitality industry. Maybe it’s just in her nature?

Whatever her reasoning, I smile as I scrub the paint from my hands and use her girly smelling shower gel to wash.

I wash it off as best as I can, but when I start to dry myself, I still stink of something way too floral.

With nothing else to put on, I wrap the towel around my waist and step through the steam to go find her.

I open the door and nearly smack into her. She backs away, hands holding out a blue toweling robe as she looks me up and down.

If she was planning on saying anything, she seems to lose interest as her eyes travel downwards.

I bite back a curse as her eyes linger on my tattoos. One of which I’d rather she not read the wording of.

When she shifts to take a closer look, I do the only thing I can to stop the inevitable questions; I pull her against me and wrap my hand around the back of her neck.

Her eyes go round, but when I kiss her, sliding my tongue in her mouth, she presses her body harder against mine.

She moans softly, but it’s obvious she’s flustered when she leans back to hand me the robe. “I need to go wash your clothes. Otherwise, you’ll be still wearing that robe when Andy gets here.”

I release her, relieved she’s distracted, I shrug into it and find it just as soft and fluffy as the towels were. “Thanks.”

Brooke pushes up on her toes and twists her fingers into my hair as she kisses me. “No problem. You’re my guest. I want to take care of you.”

I slide my hands down her body so I’m holding her by the waist and looking into her eyes. She wants to take care of me? Damn it. The feeling is mutual.

She shifts to move, but I stop her from leaving with a question I shouldn’t ask. “How much trouble are you in?”

Her smile disintegrates. She frowns at me and pulls out of my arms. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“How much trouble, Brooke?”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine.”

I step closer to her. “Stop pretending everything is okay when it’s obviously not.”

She exhales slowly and won’t look at me. “My name is on an illegal loan my ex took out. If Nate doesn’t make this next payment in three weeks, they’ll come looking for him.”

My gut twists into knots. Why’d her loser ex have to stoop that low? “Where’d he get the loan from?”

She looks up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, irritation etched on her face. “What difference does that make? I don’t have that kind of money. I’ll have to sell my car, borrow more money from my parents if that doesn’t work, I’ll have to sell the house…but even then…”

I grab hold of her shoulders, inwardly wincing at the way they are starting to shake. “Do you know who he took the loan out with? How much he borrowed?”

Her bottom lip starts to wobble. “Someone called Quinn. I don’t know how much the loan is, just the repayment amount.”

Ice spreads through my body as I pull her closer. My thoughts are spinning painfully as I hold her tight and stroke her hair.

“It’s going to be okay,” I say.

When she cries and my chest squeezes, I know that this is more than it should be.

I know that I’ll do anything I can to fix this.

Even if it means going back to confront the person I’m hiding from.