“Go on then, top those months of hell.”
Raiden lowers his drill and raises an eyebrow. “Demolishing twenty bathrooms in an old Boston hotel for renovations after a massive plumbing malfunction?” He takes a deep breath and sighs it out. “Never seen so much shit before in my life…and honestly I hope I never will again.”
“Ewww.”
“Ewww damn right.”
We both laugh and carry on in silence for a while. “Now you need to tell me your best job ever,” I say.
“You go first,” Raiden says. “You have an impressive list of references.”
“Hmm.” Those references that I made sure never referred to my parents’ company, Wess & Rover. “Hands down the hacienda in Mexico. That guy had money to throw around.” Without a doubt, the house was for some Mexican drug lord’s new mistress. My mom cut the cord after that job even though money was never an issue and getting things done was a breeze—Wess & Rover likes a clean and neat reputation. “Yours?”
“There’ve been a few, but my favorite has always been the cliff-side cottage on the Massachusetts coast we built for some investment banker. A cozy retreat for two. Only one bedroom, a small gourmet kitchen, a romantic en suite, and a beautiful living room with a fireplace, all with views.”
It sounds a bit like the boathouse, if I’m honest, with fairy dust added. That little place…this big man… I’m no longer a stranger and always have somewhere to go. Raiden has no clue how deeply those words touched me. Last night, alone in bed, everything stilled, and I fell asleep without any rolling around. In Raiden I’ve found someone who wants me here and who will even fetch me from anywhere if I call. In Ashleigh Lake, there seems to be a sense of family that’s evaded me all my life. I smile to myself and before Raiden can see, I turn to stack the rafter with the others.
By the end of the day, everything is cut to the correct size and my respect for Raiden and his work ethic has multiplied. This is the first time I’ve worked with someone who owns up to a mistake and then systematically goes through the motions of fixing it without throwing a tantrum and spitting barbs at me.
When we’re at a point where we can measure the total height again, Raiden lets me do the honors. “It’s only thirteen feet, two inches,” I call down from the ladder. “We have a whole four inches left for the roof.”
“I’d rather be under than over,” Raiden says with a nod and when I clamber down, feet back on solid ground, I can’t resist the impulse to hug him in a moment of intense relief and triumph.
He squeezes me back but quickly pushes me to arm’s length. “Hang in there, Miami, we’re far from done.”
“I’m so relieved.” I actually want to cry. Bring on Jack and his crew and his sly suggestion of snags—we’re ready for them come Tuesday. But it’s more than that, so much more. I’m flabbergasted that Raiden got the measurements spot on without drawing the changes up and referring to them a thousand times. He truly is one in a billion.
Since he’s been open with me about his learning difficulty, everything has shifted between us. He never stutters around me and it’s like he explained that day, when there’s no shock, no stress, no strangers, he’s fine. On the day of my arrival, I was the perfect trifecta of things that make his speech go off the rails. But now, to work with him like this, open and easy…I’m loving it so much. It’s going to suck to leave this haven at the end of this gig…and go where? I haven’t had much time to look for another job as I’m too busy on this project to make work of it or to overthink my precarious situation.
“I’m relieved too,” Raiden says. “At least that was an easy fix.” He puts more distance between us as he stands back to look at the frame. “There’s always a screw-up, invariably, and once it’s passed, I relax. Until I know what it is though, I’m strung tight.”
I know that feeling. “I hope that’s the only one. In my experience, screw-ups come in threes.”
He laughs. “It depends on whose side you’re counting.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m two down, one to go, according to you.”
“And what might your first two be?” I tease.
He chuckles. “Number one happened on day one, when a Georgiana arrived instead of a George.”
These words sting a little because I recall how I felt that day: like a mistake. He can’t understand why. He doesn’t know I’m an unwanted accident and have been treated as such all my life. “Well, that didn’t turn out too bad, I hope.”
He stares deeply into my eyes, and I see in them why he pushed me away. That hug was just a taster. The longing to press myself against him and feel his hard body against my softer form surfaces on a gasp.
Oh my God.
He wants it too.
“Nope, so far so good.” He smiles but turns away from me so I can’t read his eyes anymore. “Number two is the two-inch issue. There’ll definitely be only one of those mistakes, and we’ve fixed that.”
“Yeah, right. Only one?”
“Still don’t trust me, do you?”
I trust him wholeheartedly. Even if there is another mistake, we’ll fix it. “I do trust you,” I whisper.