I certainly never dated anyone or gave anyone in town reason to question me. I lived alone, I saw my kids every second weekend, and I spent every waking minute working on the house.
Sure, I’d been with men. I’d had encounters. I knew what I liked and what I didn’t.
And aside from Ren, and assumedly Hamish, no one else in town knew.
Had I put myself back in the closet? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t living a lie anymore, but I also wasn’t exactly living my truth.
Maybe Jayden would be a good test.
Maybe I should see how I handle it, how it feels to tell someone. Maybe I could try telling him, because surely telling some random stranger who would be gone soon would be so much easier than announcing it to the folks in Hartbridge whom I had to see on the regular.
Maybe.
Shaking my head of stupid and wishful thoughts, I turned my attention back to the sign, and after finishing the sanding and priming, I painted the first coat of white paint.
But it was never going to dry out here in the barn. The temperature was supposed to drop tonight, so I carried the sign into the mudroom, careful not to smudge the paint, and went back out to put my truck in the barn and close up for the night.
I brought up some more wood to dry and then I noticed the snow shovel I’d left by the barn door so I had to reopen the barn, and of course, I’d left the paint and the brush on the shelf, so I grabbed that to take inside . . .
And I saw the to-do list Jayden had found. I shoved it in my pocket. Then I remembered the old pot I’d cleaned up so I grabbed it, and finally went inside.
“Boy, it’s getting cold,” I mumbled, shaking the few soft snowflakes from my hair before I pulled my boots off.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing a proper coat?” Jayden asked.
He startled me. I was so used to being alone, I’d forgotten he was here. I’d forgotten about him being naked in the shower . . .
Except now he wore comfy track pants and socks with a hoodie. His brown hair looked freshly washed and almost dry.
I wish I’d seen it wet.
Okay, wow. That came out of nowhere.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He smiled. “I was just walking past, heard you mumbling.”
I had my hand on my chest. I wasn’t entirely sure it was because he startled me or if it was because he looked so good it rendered me speechless.
I cleared my throat. “Ah, yeah, it’s a . . . I lost track of time, I guess. It got real cold, real quick. Are you warm enough?” Then because my brain was still stuck on him being wet, I said, “You showered okay?”
He stared.
My cheeks heated. “I mean, you found everything okay? You found the towels? Water pressure was fine?”
His slow smile became a grin. “Yeah, I found everything okay. Water pressure was great, actually. I wasn’t sure on how long the hot water would last, so I made it pretty quick.”
“There should be endless hot water,” I replied. “The beauty of old houses like this is that they have those old boilers. They never run out.”
His smile lingered until his eyes went to my hands. “What have you got there?”
“Oh.” I’d forgotten I was holding it. “It’s an old copper pot. It was in the barn. I meant to bring it in yesterday to put by the fire. It’s old as hell but it looks good. They’re popular again now, if you can find one. My great-aunt must have had it in the barn.”
He glanced behind me, to the mudroom. “And the sign?”
“Oh yeah, that too. I need to get it dry and maybe put on another coat before I go to bed. Then tomorrow I can write on it and hang it up before the clients try to arrive and can’t find the place.”
“Sounds great.”
“Oh, and we have to go through the menu. Did you want to do that now?”
“Uh.” He glanced at the pot I was still holding, then to the sign behind me. “That can wait. How about I take that”—he took the pot in both hands—“and you bring the sign in? Unless you wanted to paint it in the mudroom.”
“Ah, no.” I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. “Thanks. I’ll bring it in. And I better bring some more firewood in as well. I brought some up from the woodpile. I was going to clean out the fire but thought I’m best leaving it until the day the guests arrive. We don’t really need the wood fires, with the gas and all, but they really add to the feel and history of the house.”
I was nervous-rambling. Like he even cared about the heating.
“I’ll just put this in the kitchen. You bring the sign in and then you can show me where the firewood is in case I need to grab some and you’re busy.”
He didn’t really give me time to argue. He was already walking off, but he reappeared a few seconds later empty-handed. He smiled at me, somewhat baffled. “The sign?”
Shit.
“Yep. Just doing that now.” Instead of standing there staring at him, I went back into the mudroom and carefully lifted the sign. Jayden grabbed the drop cloth and followed me into the sitting room. He laid the sheet down and I gently placed the sign on top of it.
“Where’s the paint?” he asked.
“Um. Still in the barn. I must have left it. I went to go back and get it but saw the pot. I get sidetracked.”
Jayden pressed his lips together so his smile wasn’t too big. “I get the impression that happens a bit, yeah?”
I shrugged, embarrassed. “Yeah. It’s something I’m working on.”
He put his hand on my arm, his smile kind, his eyes warm. “I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re trying to do fifty things at once. Come on, we’ll get the paint and the firewood.”
He led the way back to the mudroom, pulled his boots on, then helped himself to one of my coats hanging by the door. Not that I minded. It looked good on him.
Jayden was out the door while I was still pulling my boots on. I took my coat and slid it on as I followed him out. He was on the back deck, smiling up at the mountain that took up the entire view. A light snow was falling now, sunlight fading fast.
“Wow,” he breathed. “You would never tire of that view, right?”
I looked up at the sheer side of the mountain. The peak was hidden by low clouds, the snow looked blue and grey over the trees, the occasional tree uncovered like a hole in a blanket.
It was beautiful.
It was also cold.
“No, I never tire of it. Some days I forget it’s even there. Then other days it takes my breath away,” I replied. “The colours don’t just change by the season. They change by the hour and with every angle of the sun.”
He pulled his coat a little tighter and pulled the hood over his head, still smiling up at the view. Then he looked at me, and his smile and the way his eyes shone like glittering snow was better than any display the view could put on.
I was beginning to think I was in a lot of trouble.
“I better get that paint,” I mumbled, taking a step backward before bolting down the stairs and trudging through the snow to the barn. I found the paint and the brushes and quickly closed everything back up, heading back across the yard to the back veranda.
Jayden had found the woodpile at the end of the veranda. It was covered with a tarp, which he had lifted up. “This end is the dry stuff, yeah?”