Chapter 2
Delilah’s feet hurt. The trek to her grandmother’s house was harder than she remembered, or maybe it was because she was older. She’d stopped at the Happy Hollow store to grab a drink and rest briefly. It was nice to see Mr. Bullock, or Mr. B as she called him when she was a child, still owned the shop. His grandson, Matt, was building a boat dock with pumps and a small open-air bar on the back, but the rest was how she remembered it. He had been kind, reminiscing about her grandmother as they sat while she rested. As she started her walk again, her phone vibrated relentlessly in her back pocket. Slipping it from the denim, she scowled when she saw it was John… again. She wasn’t ready to hear his sob story so she ignored the call and shoved it back into her pocket. As she rounded the corner, nostalgia hit her. The driveway was just as she remembered. A heavy metal gate blocked the gravel entry. Delilah gripped the iron gate, slipped it across the rocky path, and pulled it shut behind her. Dusting her hands off across her knees, she took in the scenery. The driveway was half a mile long, shielding the house from the roadway. As she got closer to her childhood home, she could hear the sound of banging echoing off the massive pines surrounding the land. She remembered that Don had mentioned a contractor was doing work for her grandmother, but she hadn’t thought he’d be here so soon after her funeral. She took the aged steps to the wrap around porch and tossed her bag near the door.
“Hello?” she called out, not wanting to startle anyone, as she made her way around the side of the house. The porch was massive, wrapping the entire house and connecting into a large rear deck that overlooked the water. Skidding to a stop, she sucked in a breath at the sight before her. Standing, clad only in a pair of blue jeans that hung loosely off his hips, was a man. The sheen glint of his sweat covered his body – and oh my God what a body it was. His muscles were chiseled to perfection and his skin was kissed with the sun. He grabbed a towel from his back pocket and wiped the sweat that was dangerously close to dripping into his eyes. And holy crap his eyes. They were as blue as the Caribbean Sea. Delilah sucked in a breath, startling the stranger.
“Shit,” he stumbled, knocking off the hammer he’d set down on the railing, as he glared up at Delilah, his eyes froze on hers.
“Oh – god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me calling out.”
He wiped his hands down his pants before running one of his palms through his shaggy brown hair. “Um, no… I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you over the banging. I’m Parker. Isabell hired me to do some work around here.”
“Yeah, Don told me, I just didn’t expect to see you here so soon after…” her voice trailed off, her eyes clouding with tears. Delilah stepped toward him, her foot stumbling over the fallen tool.
“Shit,” Parker moved fast, grabbing her hand, “You alright?” he steadied her on her feet as she wiped at her face.
“Yeah – sorry.” She half laughed.
“Delilah, I miss her too, don’t apologize for your tears. Isabelle kind of took me in after I moved here. She was like my grandmother.” He smiled, and man what a smile. Delilah couldn’t help but stare.
She swiped at her eyes, fingering the wetness that was gathering, “Sorry – I just wished I could have talked to her, before… you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” He fingered the tear that fell free despite her efforts to wipe them away. Realizing he was in her personal space, he let her hand fall and stepped back. “Anyway. I hope me being around won’t be a bother. But I intend to finish this job. Like I said, she was like a grandmother to me, too.”
“Sure – yeah. That’s fine.” Her phone rang in her pocket, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Parker. Pulling it free, she grunted in disgust and hit ignore.
“Everything ok?” Parker asked as he watched a myriad of emotions cross her face.
“Yes… no… ugh, I don’t know. My fiancé, no ex-fiancé, won’t leave me alone. He thinks I should buy his bullshit that his dick being in someone else was a mistake. Shit,” she looked up at Parker, whose face was filled with shock and something she couldn’t place – anger? Sorrow? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that to you. You don’t know me and you sure as shit don’t want to hear my problems. Anyway, I need to get my stuff inside and then figure out what needs to be done around here. I’m sure the animals need tending to.”
“Animal.” Parker smirked.
“What?”
“You said animals. But your grandmother only has one. That demon of a horse, Ed.” He chuckled as he bent down and picked up the fallen hammer.
“What? She got rid of the others?”
“Yeah – said they were too much work. But she couldn’t let that mean ass horse go.”
“He was mine… and he’s not mean – just ornery.”
“Ornery my ass.” Parker shook his head as he walked away, “Ornery in not what crossed my mind when he bit me. A horse that bites… seriously. Delilah, if you need anything you let me know. Here’s my card,” he reached into his back pocket and handed her a card, “Your grandmother talked about you so much, I feel like I know you. And Delilah,” he called out as he bounded down the steps into the yard.
“Yeah?” She called out behind him.
“John’s an idiot.” Parker disappeared around the house, leaving Delilah with her mouth agape in shock. She couldn’t help but feel warmth in her cheeks as she smiled at his words. Parker was right, John didn’t deserve her. Her phone vibrated again, reminding her that he wasn’t just going to disappear. She’d have to face him eventually – but not today. Today, she was just going to worry about the house.
She walked back around the front and grabbed her backpack before heading inside. The inside was just as she remembered, minus the gaping hole in the ceiling above the living room.
“What the hell?” She threw her bag down and pushed the screen door open, “PARKER!” She hollered, hoping he could shed some light on the new open-air ceiling.
He came running around the side of the house, “What’s wrong?”
“Why is there a giant hole in the ceiling?”
“Uh, a tree fell on the house a couple of weeks ago.”
Delilah paused, her grandmothers death hitting her square in the chest. She’d died when a tree fell and struck her, killing her instantly. Don’s words flooded her memory, he’d said her contractor was there with her when it happened.
Parker.
The tree.
The hole in the ceiling.
Delilah dropped to her knees on the porch, sucking air into her lungs. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe even though air rushed into her chest with each breath she took.
“Whoa,” Parker was at her side immediately, “Slow down. Breathe slowly. That’s it, nice easy breaths.” His hand pressed into her back.
“I can’t stay here…” She stood abruptly, Parker’s hand falling from her back.
“What? Delilah… the hole is covered at night. The bedrooms are fine, as is the rest of the house. I’ll have the roof repaired in a couple of days.”