Home > My Way To You (Canyon Creek #1)(55)

My Way To You (Canyon Creek #1)(55)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“M’kay.” She closed her eyes to the feel of him stroking her hair.

 

She felt bad. Here it was on a Sunday, and she was working Colin’s butt off. Another set of storms was due to roll in that week, and the guesthouse roof was showing signs of problems.

Matt had just gotten off of a twenty-four-hour shift, and he was up on the roof with Colin assessing the damage and securing a tarp.

The only joy in having the men on the roof was watching Matt trying to gain Erin’s attention.

Parker and Erin were back at shoveling mud off walkways and talking in hushed tones. “It’s so obvious he’s into you.”

“Not going to happen, Parker.”

“I can tell you’re attracted.” The universe could see it from a galaxy away.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it. I’m not ready.”

A shovelful of mud made its way into a wheelbarrow. “The ex?”

“Yeah.”

Parker wasn’t going to push it.

Colin and Matt secured a tarp over the composite roof and worked their way off.

“That is a main priority by spring,” Colin told her.

“The undercoat took on a lot of fire damage. Something you couldn’t really see by looking at it. It’s why the shingles are flying off in the wind.” Matt smiled at the two of them, happy in his knowledge about fire damage and roofs.

“How much is that going to cost?” It all came down to money for Parker.

“They’d have to tear this down to the plywood since the paper underneath is what’s shot. You’re looking at six thousand, minimum, hired done.”

Less than Parker initially thought. “I’d have to hire someone. I don’t know the first thing about putting on a new roof.”

“I can get a couple guys from the station, and Colin knows his way around a roof. We could knock this out in a weekend for what the materials will cost. Which is what, Colin . . . couple grand?” Matt asked his brother.

“About that.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

Colin looked at his brother. “I didn’t hear her ask, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Guys, please . . .”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Colin said.

“No. That’s not what I meant. Please . . . as in sarcasm.”

“The answer is still yes. We just need to wait for the rain to stop.” Colin turned to Erin. “I’d like to see what happened on the inside, if you don’t mind.”

Erin balanced the shovel against the outside wall and walked them to the front door. Parker followed behind them through the open-concept living room and small kitchen to the bedroom. Very few personal belongings had joined what was already in the space when she’d rented it to Erin. No pictures, which struck her as a little strange. Everything was immaculate. Almost stale. There was water damage on an exterior wall in the corner where several shingles had blown off over the Christmas storm and then took on water over New Year’s.

“Do you have a pencil?” Matt asked.

Erin smiled and nodded before walking out of the room and returning with said pencil.

Matt marked on the wall the outline of the water spot. “Chances are you’re going to see this line since it’s nearly dry now. But if the damage grows the next time it rains, then the tarp isn’t working, and we’ll have to get in here before spring or risk more interior damage.”

Colin moved over to the switch on the wall. “Keep this fan going to dry it out. If you see any mold—”

“I’ll tell Parker.”

Matt handed her back the pencil when he was done writing on the wall. “We don’t want you getting sick.”

Erin was blushing.

“I’m going to need a drywall guy for this,” Parker mused out loud.

“I can help demo,” Colin told her. “But I’ll let the professionals handle the new stuff, mud, tape, texture, and paint. And before you ask, I don’t know exactly what that’s going to cost. The damage we see on this side is usually twice as bad once you open the wall up.”

“If it ends up being too much, have your insurance company come out and make another claim.”

She’d already thought about that. Parker wasn’t quite ready to make those calls yet, but it was coming.

Colin turned to walk out of the room.

Matt moved too quickly, and his foot caught the side of the dresser. He must have hit it hard because he jumped back and brought his fist up to his side to shake off what looked like pain.

At the same time, Erin took a giant step back and sucked in a breath. Her knees hit the back of the bed and she caught herself right before falling. Terror was written all over Erin’s face.

Parker saw her start to tremble.

Matt froze.

Colin stood perfectly still.

Erin stood there paralyzed.

“When was the last time you ate?” Parker jumped to the first thing she could think of to take the attention off her friend and the fear in her eyes. She took a step and reached Erin’s side and helped her sit on the bed. “She gets hypoglycemic,” Parker lied. “Isn’t that right, Erin?”

A numb nod was her reply.

“Colin, can you see if there’s some juice or something in Erin’s fridge?”

“Sure.” Colin took off.

Matt lowered his hand slowly and stepped back. “Are you diabetic?”

Erin shook her head. “No.” She looked at Parker. “Just dizzy sometimes when I don’t eat.”

Parker kept the lie going. “It was worse in the summer.”

Colin returned with a glass of orange juice. “Here.”

Erin’s hands shook. Parker helped her bring the glass to her lips. A couple of deep breaths and some of the color returned to her face. “I’m better now. Thanks.”

“You guys go on outside. I’m going to make sure she’s okay.” Parker directed traffic.

“You sure you’re all right?” Matt asked.

“I’m fine.”

Parker waited until after the sound of the door closing before taking the glass out of Erin’s hands.

A rush of breath left her lungs. “Thank you, Parker.”

She placed a hand over Erin’s. “Anytime.”

 

Colin walked with Matt up the side of the jobsite while Parker and Erin sat in the guesthouse.

“You saw that, right?” Matt asked him.

“Yeah.”

“She thought I was going to hit her.”

That was the exact feeling he’d gotten.

His brother was tensing up. “That fucking pisses me off. Who would hit her? Who hits a woman?”

“I don’t know, little brother, but I’m pretty sure if you ask her, she’d deny it.”

Matt stomped around the jobsite, the energy his anger created fueled him. Violence wasn’t something the Hudsons understood. The only time their parents yelled at each other was right after their father’s motorcycle accident when their mother tossed the keys to his bike in the neighbor’s backyard.

The neighbor had a territorial pit bull at the time, and there was no way any of them were hopping that fence to retrieve the keys.

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