“Jesus fuck,” he growls before the sound of the nail gun goes off, the loud noise making me jump each and every time. Only once I know it’s safe to do so, I lower my arms and start down the steps with the gun still sounding. When quiet fills the room, I look up, and my eyes collide with Tide’s. He’s pissed. Even not really knowing him, I can see the anger in his eyes and the set of his jaw. “What the fuck were you thinking?” The tone of his question vibrates though the room and me.
I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. “I was helping.”
“I see you think that, babe, but what would you have done if the ladder gave out from our combined weight?”
Crap, I didn’t think about that happening.
“Right... now, what do you think would’ve happened if one of the nails ricocheted and hit you?”
Damn, I didn’t think about that either. “Is something like that even possible?”
“Ask my friend Tiny, who recently had to have a nail removed from his shoulder.”
Ouch.
“I was just trying to help,” I say softy.
“You can help me out by not trying to help me out.”
I feel my nose scrunch up. He’s been working by himself, and obviously, even with his strength and experience, it’s not easy installing drywall on a ceiling alone. “Why aren’t there guys here helping you?” I question as he gets off the ladder.
“I don’t need help with this stuff,” he responds, moving the ladder across the room before going to where the sheetrock is stacked at an angle against the wall. I watch his muscular arms flex as he grabs a sheet and once more lifts it up over his head.
When he reaches the steps of the ladder and goes up, I instinctively move forward without a thought and help him move it into place, going up the opposite side.
“Seriously?”
I don’t apologize again. I just wait, not meeting his gaze. I listen as he lets out an annoyed breath, and I jump when the sound of the nail gun startles me. When the loud banging comes to an end, I let my arms drop and start back down the ladder. When a warm, strong hand wraps around my fingers, I stop with one foot firmly on the ground, the other floating in the air.
“What did I say?”
Oh, Lord. I thought he was pissed before, but I was wrong. I realize how wrong I was when I peek at him through my lashes.
“I’m just trying to help.”
“And again, I don’t need help, and if I did, I’d call one of my guys here and have them help me.”
“Fine.” I toss my arms in the air. “But don’t come crying to me if one of these pieces of drywall crashes into your head and knocks you out.”
“Not gonna happen,” he mutters, stepping down off the ladder and walking across the room to get another piece. Once more, I watch him heft it over his head, and when he gets to the ladder, he looks at me to make sure I haven’t moved.
“I’m not moving.”
“Yeah, I bet it’s killing you,” he grumbles, and I narrow my eyes on his. He’s right; my feet are itching to move and help him, but if he wants to be a chauvinistic alpha male who refuses help, then so be it.
“Carry on, sir.” I sweep my hand out and lift my chin, watching his lips twitch as he goes up the steps. Then I watch in awe, because he doesn’t seem to need any help as he lifts the piece in place and nails it in before taking a screw gun and adding screws along the seam.
“The peanut gallery is silent all of a sudden.” He smiles at me, resting his elbows on the top of the ladder looking far to hot for his own good.
“Being a showoff is not a good quality.”
“So you’d rather me be unconscious on your living room floor with no help in sight because you refused to help me?” He raises a brow.
“Don’t be annoying.” I turn on my heel, listening to him laugh as I go into the kitchen. I open the fridge and get out the stuff to make one of my favorite dishes, a simple stir-fry with rice noodles, chicken, and pad Thai sauce.
With the chicken cooked, the noodles boiled, and the veggies done, I mix them all together and then add in the sauce, using a spatula to turn it over and make sure everything is evenly coated. Once it’s done, I grab a paper plate then look to the living room. I know I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do, but that doesn’t stop me from walking around the wall and doing it anyway.
“Umm.” I run my hands that are suddenly sweaty down the front of my shorts when Tide looks at me. “I don’t know if you ate, but if you haven’t, I cooked, and there’s enough if you want some.”
“I thought I’d have to go in there and steal a plate after you disappear upstairs,” he says, walking toward me. “It smells good.”
“Thanks.” I fiddle with the bottom of my shirt then turn for the kitchen with him on my heels. “Do you like Thai food?”
“I haven’t had it,” he tells me as I grab another paper plate from the cabinet and hand him one.
“Sorry, this is all I have, since my stuff isn’t supposed to be here for a couple of days.”
“Are you trying to make me feel bad?” he asks, and I pause with a spatula full of noodles, veggies, and chicken above the plate in my hand then watch him shrug. “I’ve been living in my place for a couple of years and still use paper plates. Then again, I hate washing dishes.”
“You’re a man. I’m pretty sure it’s ingrained in your DNA to do anything and everything to avoid cleaning of any sort.”
“Touché.” He grins, and I laugh then take his plate and pile it high with food, because judging by his size, he eats a lot. Once I hand it to him, I give him a plastic fork then grab two bottles of water from the fridge, giving him one.
“So we have two options for where we can eat—either the steps of the porch or on the floor anywhere in the house.”
“The porch works for me,” he says, and I move toward the front door, shove my bottle of water under my arm, and open the door. When we get outside, I take a seat on the top step of the porch and rest my plate against my knees, setting my water next to my hip.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Tide says, taking a seat next to me.
“It is,” I agree, wondering if I will ever get used to living someplace as beautiful as this. With the setting sun sparkling through the leaves of the trees, casting shadows on the ground below, it makes it look like the set of a fantasy novel described by an author. Like at any moment a knight on a white horse could ride up the lane, kicking up dust as fairies drop out of the trees, warning of impending doom. Shaking my head, I wipe away those fantastical thoughts. “I knew when I saw this property that I had to have it. Then I saw inside the house and had second thoughts.”
“Your house is solid. It just needs to be updated a little, but you chose well.”
“Thanks.” I swirl some noodles around my fork and take a bite. Even though it’s a dish I’ve made pretty often over the years, I haven’t had it in a while, so I groan in approval when my taste buds light up.
“Damn, this is good,” Tide says, and I turn to smile at him. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while.”
“Except this isn’t a home-cooked meal. This is a bag of stir-fry veggies, a box of rice noodles, chicken, and a bottle of Thai sauce.”