“Not going to ask again, Seychelle.”
“I don’t keep track of him. I have absolutely no idea where that man lives.”
“He bother you? Even after he decides to live with this child out of high school? He still come around and bother you? Is that why you call him a creeper?” His blue eyes never left her face. His posture never changed from that lazy panther relaxing on the porch. His voice was pitched low, almost gentle, but she caught the underlying menace, that ever-present rage swirling too close to the surface.
“I made it clear, Savage.” She leaned down and deliberately took a bite out of the cookie he held in his hand. “It’s getting late and I have to get working on the porch. I don’t want Doris falling through the stairs. The second step is rotted almost all the way through.”
“I’ll take a look at it, but we’re going to have to stick a couple of decent tools in this toolbox if you’re going to insist on going around fixing things.” He sat up. “And the conversation isn’t over. You’re racking up all kinds of trouble, baby.”
“What does that mean?” Seychelle asked.
“Just don’t want you saying I didn’t warn you.”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about half the time.” She found herself speaking to his back as he opened the toolbox again and peered inside. He ignored her, swearing under his breath at the multitude of pink tools inside the box.
Seychelle looked up at Doris. “Stop fanning yourself. Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”
“Does it really matter, dear? He’s magnificent, and you’re engaged to him.” Doris looked very smug as she looked at the empty cookie plate. “I do wish it were bingo night.”
“You can’t tell your friends I have a fake fiancé.” Seychelle had the unexpected urge to kick Savage right in the middle of that very broad back. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he stripped away the rotted top boards from the stairs. He did it easily, with no wasted effort.
“Not fake, Doris,” Savage said without looking up. “Ice is working on the ring. I told him exactly what I wanted for her, Doris. She’s got those eyes. I know everyone wants traditional diamonds.” He yanked on a board on the next stair down, swore and shook his head. “Told Ice I wanted something to match her eyes. He showed me these killer blue diamonds. Dark, almost teal blue. Never saw anything like them. Just like her eyes.”
“You’d better be making that up.” Seychelle turned her blue eyes on Doris. “He’s totally making that up to make me crazy.”
“Babe.” He gave her his one-word response, which he seemed to think spoke volumes.
She rolled her eyes. Doris fanned herself again. She was absolutely no help, and she clearly was going to repeat every word of the conversation to her friends.
“Seychelle, come look at this. It’s all rotted. All of this has to be replaced. If it isn’t, Doris is going to have an accident on her porch. I’m going to get the brothers out here tomorrow to take the porch apart. I’ll measure everything now with your bullshit pink tape measure. We’ve got wood lying around the clubhouse takin’ up space. It’s a small enough job that we should be able to knock it out in an afternoon, if that’s all right with you, ma’am.” Savage glanced over his shoulder at Doris for confirmation. “Master and the others will be glad to get rid of the lumber. They get so much extra from all their jobs, and frankly, we don’t have a place to store it. You’d be doin’ us a favor.”
Doris raised a hand to her hair. Seychelle could see it was trembling. She had a lot of pride. “If you’re certain they need to get rid of the lumber. I can’t pay them for it. It looks like it would be a lot.”
Seychelle felt herself slipping just a little more down that inevitable path toward Savage. She didn’t want to go there. She knew it was too dangerous, but the way he leveled his cool blue eyes at Doris and shrugged had her heart stuttering.
“You should see the stacks of lumber we have layin’ around the place, ma’am, not only at the clubhouse, but it’s spillin’ over to Player’s house now.”
“Savage.” Doris conceded with a nod. “May I get you some tea?”
Savage winced. “Don’t drink the stuff, Doris. Blythe tried to convince me it wasn’t poison, but so far, I think she’s full of . . .” He broke off. “Let’s just say no, thanks.” He beckoned to Seychelle, and she put down her teacup and moved closer to examine the boards that he’d uncovered beneath the stairs.
Savage waited until she sat on the porch before he dug at the exposed network of wood with the claw part of the hammer, pulling it apart easily. “It’s rotted. The lumber should have been treated and sealed. I’ll talk to Master and Player. They’re good with this kind of thing. You don’t want Doris or any of her guests falling through.”