1
Winona
Buzz!The loud noise invading my bedroom jolts me from my sleep. My body jerks as I push up my silk eye mask and reach for my phone in the darkness. Five-thirty in the morning? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
This makes three days in a row that my next door neighbor has woken me up from a dead sleep after a twelve hour day. On other days it might not be so bad seeing that I have to be into the bakery by seven, but today is my first day off in two weeks and dammit all I want is a good old fashioned sleep-in.
I slam my fist against my nightstand and grab my ear plugs. The strange spongy material expands into the crevice of my ear and almost…almostblocks out the loud humming and buzzing sound piercing the precious would-be silence.
Then magically, the noise stops.
I breathe a haggard sigh of relief and pull my silk sleep mask over my eyes once more. With a deep breath I allow my body to sink into my precious memory foam mattress. Sleep, how do I love thee? Let me count the—
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
A new, louder machine noise interrupts any chance I have at falling back into dream town. My eyes fly open and I rip my mask off once more. Before I even know what’s happening, I’ve thrown off the covers and exchanged my silk pajamas (an early half-birthday present to myself) for a pair of jeans, my favorite flip-flops, and an old tank top. I’m halfway through my bedroom door when I realize I haven’t put on a bra.
Gazing around the room, I opt instead for my pink, fluffy robe with bunnies on it. I don’t care about appearances, I just need to make the damn noise stop.
I fly down the steps two at a time and throw open the front door. The morning sun makes its ascent over the tall mountain trees in the distance. I stomp over to the garage that backs up so close to the edge of my cabin. When I showed my sister, Carolyn, the place she’s the one who noticed how close the barn was to my own house. I didn’t think it’d be a problem. In a quiet mountain town, how noisy could it be?
I wasn’t expecting these early morning construction sessions. What’s worse? Once again, my oldest sister Carolyn was right. I don’t know how she always does that.
I’m half-way across the backlot of my property when it fully hits me what I’m about to do. What the hell am I supposed to say? What if it’s a crazy old man who locks the door behind me and I never see the light of day again?
Easy, Winona. You read too many True Crime novels.
I traipse around to the front of the barn, and it hits me that I’m officially trespassing. It’s also the first time I’ve seen what lies beyond the building. The house in the distance is modest but an absolute stunner. It looks like something straight off of HGTV. I bet Chip and JoAnna would have a field day with that one.
I swallow back any doubt that I have, and before I lose my nerve I raise my arm and bring my knuckles down hard on the old, yet surprisingly ornate barn door. What could possibly be a better excuse than an interruption of one’s beauty sleep?
My heart beats in my throat as I wait for the loud power tool to stop. It’s like it echoes in the cavernous terrain of the mountains. I wait. And wait. And wait.
I scowl, pissed as hell that I’m even in this position in the first place. I bang on the door so hard it hurts my hand. When the noise still continues, I say a quick and silent prayer before gently pressing on the door. To my surprise, it’s unlocked. Dismissing any thoughts about some cannibalistic backwoods toothless weirdo, I gently peer my head inside.
“Hello?” I call out, but my voice isn’t much louder than my knock. Bravery overcomes me—after all, I’ve come this far—and I step all the way inside. I’m about to announce my presence when my voice dies in my throat.
Standing before me, holding a huge industrial sander-type machine is the tallest, most gigantic, mostrippedman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless and glistening with sweat, the muscles in his corded torso pop and flex as he works his way down the long piece of wood. His light denim jeans sit low on his hips, revealing a legitimate six pack, complete with those inhuman grooves on the sides.
The glorious tall drink of water doesn’t see me standing there. His goggled eyes are cast downward, a long strand of dark hair hangs in his face like it’s broken free from his freshly showered mane. His strong hands run the sander along the wood like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as though he’s one with it.
In a haze of my panties being melted clean the hell off, I completely forget I’m not supposed to be in there, and don’t realize I’m staring at this hunk of a man with stars oozing from my eyes until he cuts the machine and glances up at me.
He raises the goggles, revealing the brightest, golden brown eyes I’ve ever encountered. His warm smile reveals a deep dimple in his left cheek.
I’m seriously about to come all over myself.
“Hey there.” He sets down the machine and makes his way over to me. My body reacts like a trapped animal, but the front door’s wide open. “Can I help you?”
Oh Jesus, God. Why am I here?
“I live next door.” I manage to blurt out.
“So you’re my neighbor.” He reaches for a nearby t-shirt and my heart sinks, but at least it will be easier to think. “I heard the place sold, but I didn’t know who bought it. How do you like the loft?”
“How do you know about the loft?”
“I’m Levi Maxwell.” He says with the pop of his sharp chin. He extends his hand, and when our skin touches my center lights up like a Christmas tree. “I built that house.”