Page 10 of Hollow Forest

“Go Dogs,” I said lamely and disappeared to his playful scowl.

The sooner I was able to thrift some different clothes the better. I didn’t need gossip placing me as a southerner.

After washing my face and putting on a minimal layer of makeup, I slapped on some deodorant and descended to the kitchen to grab a bite of breakfast. My ponytail swung back and forth. It would have been smart to chop off the length, but maybe I would settle for bangs. I couldn’t part with my hair, even if it was yellow-white and not brown.

Already a small team was ripping up the ancient kitchen flooring.

The handyman from yesterday was on his knees, prying up planks. He lifted his gaze from the task, gave me a curt nod, and then tore up a long piece of the floorboard with his bare hands.

I tried not to stare at the way his shoulders flexed under the orange and black flannel.

Ghosting to the fridge, I snagged a bagel from the plastic sleeve. At the rate they were working, I wouldn’t be able to sit and enjoy it.

In fact, the kitchen table was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s the furniture?” I asked.

The handyman sat back on his haunches, but it was one of the other guys who answered.

“Oh, that’s on the lawn, ma’am,” he answered.

There was nothing for it but to go outside. I curled up on a chair, enjoying the sun’s warmth as the cool breeze flowed through the clearing. There were still leaves on the trees, which gave the illusion of the forest being on fire. Flicking a glance to the roof, I noticed the sparkle of frost.

It was going to get cold very soon.

I shivered and tucked my knees up on the edge of the chair.

The screen door swung without a creak, banging as it slapped open on ancient hinges. The sexy, god-like handyman marched down the steps. Before I could figure out what he was carrying, he dropped several items on the table next to me.

“You could have toasted that,” he grumped.

I stared at the cream cheese and butter knife. “Um, thanks?”

He nodded but didn’t make to move. He seemed to be waiting. I rested the bagel on my knee, took off the plastic lid, and peeled back the foil. I should have told him it was weird that he’d been in my fridge, but I was grateful for the spread. I’d been too flustered inside to grab it.

“So…are you in charge?” I asked, because the silence felt like it needed to be filled.

The handyman slid his hands in his pockets. “Blake is.”

Tearing a piece of bagel, I swiped it through the cream cheese. “Which one is he?”

“You were talking to him out front.”

I stilled. The tightness in his voice was unmistakable. I wasn’t sure what prompted that.

Without another word, the giant of a man turned and headed to one of the vehicles back here. The same truck he’d driven yesterday.

The desire to call after him, to ask him his name was strong. Instead, I popped the piece of bagel in my mouth and tried not to stare at his profile. There was a day’s worth of scruff on his face. It only sharpened that strong jaw, framing his mouth. Noticing that detail was a mistake. The inside of my thighs sizzled at the thought of it. The idea of feeling the scruff on my skin, while those dark eyes looked up at me, made my cheeks flame.

I dropped my gaze.

But not before catching sight of his ass in those jeans.

The bagel stuck in my throat, and heat burned my cheeks. I stared at my knees, trying not to choke.

Do NOT go there.

Yes, the nameless, rugged man was attractive, but it would be astronomically stupid to get involved with anyone. I needed to lay low. There was too much on my plate already. But that man was exactly the kind of outlet that would give me release from the pent-up energy coursing through my veins. Hunting down some lowlife scum just wouldn’t feel as good as crawling on top of that man in a flannel and blue jeans.