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I don’t pull anything from the truck before I walk up her empty driveway. Her car isn’t here, but that doesn’t mean some deadbeat isn’t inside. I knock on the door gently, but no one answers. I knock a little louder a second time, and it goes unanswered again.

So, I get to work.

I pull out my tools, first removing the frame of the old screen door. The thing is mostly rust anyway. I toss the thing in the back of the truck and pull out the new one.

I noticed the old woman standing on her porch when I first pulled up, but as I carry the new screen door up the driveway, it seems she’s settled in for a show because she’s got a cup of coffee in her hand and a warm jacket over her long nightgown. I give her a nod.

Hanging the new screen door isn’t hard as much as it is bulky. I could’ve asked one of the other guys to come help me, but they went to Jake’s last night and didn’t get in until early this morning. Besides, I want to be the only one who gets credit for this. Not that I expect anything in return.

I can feel the neighbor’s eyes boring into my back as I work, but I wait until I’m nearly finished before acknowledging her.

“Does it look straight?” I ask without looking at her.

“Seems so,” she says, her voice sounding stronger than I would’ve given her credit for.

I turn, finding her right behind me on the stoop rather than across the yard on her own porch. She cocks an eyebrow at the shock on my face.

“That old one was nearly rusted through.”

“What’s Brinson paying to have this fixed?”

“Brinson?” I ask, wondering if that is Lucy’s last name.

“The landlord,” the old woman explains.

“I’m doing this for Lucy,” I correct.

“I need some things done around my place,” she hints, and I just love how forward elderly people are.

“Lucy is a friend.” Well, I’d like Lucy to be a friend. “But I can give you the number of a guy in town. He does great work, honest prices, great turn around, and incredible work ethic.”

“Is he as good looking as you are?”

I huff a laugh.

She sips her coffee, waiting for an answer.

“I’ll make sure Lucy gets his information to you.”

“You do that, dear,” she says as she turns around and shuffles back to her porch.

I’m putting tools back in the truck when Lucy’s car pulls into the driveway. Lucy is wary of me standing by the truck, but Harley bounds out of the backseat with a wide smile on his face.

“Micah! We went to the park!”

“Did you have fun?”

“I was the fastest on the slide!”

“I bet you were.”

He runs up to me, stopping near my legs with only inches to spare.

“Are you here to see Momma?”

I look up at Lucy who is standing near her car.

“I had a spare screen door at the clubhouse, and I noticed you guys needed a new one.”

Lucy looks from me to the new door on the front of her house. Her face falls.

“I broke the old one yesterday.”

“The wind broke it,” I tell him. “I saw the whole thing. It was pretty rusty.”

Harley runs up on to the porch to check the new screen door out like it’s a toy as I close some of the distance between his mother and me. She opens her purse.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” I tell her, shoving my hands into my pockets, making it clear I won’t accept a penny from her.

“And I’m just supposed to believe you had one lying around that fit perfectly.”

I shrug.

“Momma, can we have hot chocolate?”

“Yes,” she says to him before turning back to me.

Her eyes search mine as if she expects me to say something. If I met her at the bar, I might make a suggestion. I might flirt and ask her to spend a little time with me. If I knew her expectations were to get my leather cut off my shoulders and my jeans around my ankles, I’d pounce on this woman in a heartbeat, but that’s not where she’s at. Lucy is nothing like the women I meet at Jake’s or the women that used to come around the clubhouse looking for a good time.

She’s exhausted, and it’s clear in the shadows under her eyes and the slight droop in her shoulders.

“Do you like hot chocolate?”

“Love it,” I tell her. “But you don’t owe me anything, Lucy. You needed a screen door. I had one. I didn’t do it to get something in return. That’s not how I operate. Now, your neighbor. I think she wants me to do some work for her, and with the way she was talking, I wouldn’t put it past her to ask me to do it in just my boxers.”


Tags: Marie James Romance