I carry the bucket up the ladder, set it on the top rung and dip the sponge in. I wipe the window and smudge the eggs. Putting a little more manpower behind it, I rub harder, until I make a bit of progress. Once I get it all wiped up, I head back down the ladder to find Kira standing there.
I jump. “Jesus, you scared me.” I glance around, but we’re the only two standing in the cold. “You should be inside,” I say.
“I just…about what happened…” she begins.
I wanted her, still do, but when she blurted out that she was inexperience she might as well have just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. Jesus, she’s so fucking sweet and innocent, and that’s all the more reason for me to keep my distance. “I shouldn’t have started that, Kira.” That same gut-wrenching hurt look crosses her gorgeous face again. “It’s not you. It’s me,” I say.
Lame, Nate. Real fucking lame.
I glance past her shoulder, and Bridgette is coming our way. I gesture with a nod. “Looks like Bridgette got out again. I’ll take her back, save Ellen the trouble.”
She nods, and if I could I’d kick my ass for starting something I shouldn’t have. A raging, painful hard-on for the next month would hurt less than the wounded look in her eyes.
The back door creaks as she heads inside, and I meet Bridgette on her way to Gram’s place. “Hey girl,” I say, and she pushes her head against me. “Time to get you home.”
I turn her around and make my way to the neighbor’s. Jack Veinot is clearing snow from his back deck.
“Jack,” I say as I take Bridgette back to the barn.
“She get out again?” the elderly man asks. He grunts. “Don’t know what I’m going to do with her. Sorry for all the trouble.”
“No trouble at all.”
The back door opens, and the pinging of video games follows Jack’s wife Martha from inside the Veinot home. Guess the grandkids must be over.
“Is she bothering you again?” Martha calls, and tightens her loose hanging sweater around her body.
“I don’t mind. As long as she doesn’t wander to the road, she’ll be fine.” I open the door to the barn and send her in. Ellen lifts her head from the hay she’s eating and rushes up to her mom. I suppose in good time she would have made her way over to collect her, after she finished eating. I close the door, and I’m about to head back when Jack’s voice stops me.
“Heard Kira was back and is selling Margaret’s place,” he said.
Shit, word really does travel fast around these parts. “Yeah, she’s hoping to get it listed soon.”
“Never thought Margaret wanted to sell the place. Far as we knew, she wanted to keep it in the family.”
“I guess the family had other plans,” I say.
“Guess so,” he says, and gives a slow shake of his head. “Folks around these parts aren’t going to like that too much. Margaret would be rolling over in her grave if she knew.”
It does make me wonder about the eggs. Is Kira making enemies? Would someone go so far as to harm her, to drive her out of town? Shit. Worry tightens my gut.
“Someone egged the house,” I say.
Jack arches a brown. “You don’t say. Doesn’t seem like something anyone around here would do.”
“Not at all,” Martha agrees.
“Maybe it was just some kids,” I say, not wanting to think anyone would have done that to Kira deliberately. “I’d better get back,” I say.
Fresh snowflakes fall as I wave goodbye, and by the time I get back to the house, the table is set and Sam is balancing his chair on the back two legs telling some dirty joke that has everyone laughing, Kira included. She lifts her head when I enter, and Izzy is pulling the meatballs from the oven. A bottle of beer dangles from Cody’s fingers as he stirs the sauce, and Jason is cutting the baguette. It’s so odd how this group has come together to form a functioning family-like unit, so different from the one I was brought up in.
“Hey, Izzy,” I say. “I guess you heard about the eggs.” She scowls as she drops the meatballs into the sauce, and the fact that she’s home and not at the bar having drinks with the locals doesn’t go unnoticed. I wash up in the sink and grab a beer from the fridge. “Who wants a drink?” I get a few mumbled responses and pull out a few more beers to hand them out. “Kira?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says, and I uncap one and hand it to her. When I do, our fingers connect, and a hot bolt of lust grips my dick. I swear to fuck, the electricity arcing between us is enough to light up the house in a blackout, which is a good thing, considering the way the wind is messing with the power poles and the lights keep dimming.
The pipes creak, and it reminds me of the mice. “I’ll foam the foundation after dinner, and fix your trap,” I say to her.
“Thanks,” she says, and I step to the stove to help Izzy dish out the pasta.
“You’re home early,” I say to her quietly.
“I could smell this sauce from my barstool at the Anchor.”
“Where’s Heather, tonight?” I ask, and she frowns. Heather is the owner and head bartender at the Anchor, and she and Izzy have been on and off for a while now.
“Working,” she says gruffly, and I guess this is their “off” week. “She told me people are pissed that Gram’s place is being sold. Folks aren’t too happy with Kira.”
“Yeah, I got that impression from our neighbors.”
Izzy and I have a thing for the underdog. I don’t know her history but get the sense that she was bullied as a kid, the way I was by my brothers. Sometimes I can’t even understand why I try so hard with my family. It’s not like any of them think I know what I’m doing. But I’m not going to let that stop me. Fuck, with my background and education, I could get any CEO position with a snap of my fingers. But my great grandfather built this business—a strong, proud man who worked every day of his ninety-two years. I always admired his tenaciousness, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep this conglomerate thriving and profitable for the next generation of Lancasters, and for the people we employ.
“Don’t worry, though,” Izzy says. “I set her straight, and soon enough it will be all over town that Kira doesn’t want to sell but has to.”
I smile at her. “We can always count on Heather to get the word out.”
“Don’t think the folks around here aren’t going to do something about this.”
The lights dim again, and we all go still, but they flick back on. More pipes creak, and Kira hugs herself as she glances around like a mouse could jump on her any second.