Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 26164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
The plate she’d left on his porch with freshly baked blueberry muffins on it.
Damn woman made a good blueberry muffin.
He frowned as he noticed how many lights were on. What was she doing awake at—he glanced over at the clock on the oven—three in the morning? He tapped his fingers against the countertop. He likely wouldn’t go back to sleep now. He could go over there and . . . what? Ask her what the hell she was doing? Tell her to go to bed?
None of your business, asshole.
He got the feeling she was avoiding him. Which should make him ecstatic. Only, he wondered how much of an asshole you had to be, that someone as friendly and sweet as Lucie would avoid you.
A pretty big one, he was betting.
Sighing, he walked out into the living room, pausing by the one photo he had of her in the house.
What would Gemma think of him now? Of the way he’d basically withdrawn from life? Of how he’d treated his neighbor?
She’d be ashamed of you.
Fuck.
Gemma was almost the complete opposite of Lucie. His wife had been quiet. She’d never have knocked on his door the way Lucie had that first day. She wouldn’t have lived on her own in the city, let alone out here in the middle of nowhere. She’d get nervous on her own at night. When he was away for work, she’d go stay with her parents or a friend.
Being on her own in a cabin in the woods would have been her worst nightmare.
And yet, he couldn’t help but feel like she might have liked Lucie.
Which somehow made him feel even worse.
She hated ladders.
She hated heights.
She hated trees.
Well, not really. But trees created leaves, and leaves got into her gutters and blocked them up, and then she had to get on the ladder and climb up to clean out the gutters.
If she had any spare cash, she would use it to pay someone to clean the darn gutters. But she didn’t, and so it was up to her.
“You can do it, Lucie. It’s not that high up. Stop being such a wuss.” Heaving out the huge ladder that weighed a freaking ton, she carried it to the house and somehow got it set up. By the time she did that, she was sweating and puffing.
“Definitely going to start doing some exercise. I should get one of those running apps. It can’t be that hard to do. I’d probably be running five miles a day by the end of the week. Maybe I should start running half-marathons or something. There’s a thought.”
She pushed her headband back on her head. Today’s band was made of a stretchy pastel blue material that sparkled. It was one of her favorites.
With her gloves shoved into the back pocket of her jeans, she started climbing up the ladder. She had to grip the ladder tight as a wave of dizziness washed through her. That was weird. She was only one step up. Normally, she had to be at least five steps up before she started to feel ill.
But she’d been feeling off since she woke up this morning. Probably just tired. She’d been staying up late most nights to get some work done. Her days had been filled helping with the upcoming production of Aladdin. Each year, the high school put on a musical. And every year, she volunteered to do the backdrops. Not that she minded. But she still had to pay the bills, so she’d been working until after midnight each night. Steph had already sold all of the last stuff she’d given to her.
So yeah, it was no wonder she was feeling a bit light-headed and feverish. She cleared her throat, swallowing heavily to try and ease the slight burn.
She wasn’t getting sick.
Nope. No way. Not happening. She didn’t have time to be ill. Climbing up the rest of the way, her breathing started growing choppy.
She could do this. She could totally do this. So what if she was a few feet off the ground? Even if she fell from this height, she was unlikely to break anything. Unless she landed on her head. She drew her gloves on with shaky hands.
“You’re fine. You got this. Nothing to be worried about, you big scaredy-pants,” she muttered to herself as she dug her hand into the gutter and grabbed a handful of rotten, squelchy leaves. “Gross. Gross. Gross.”
“Do you always talk to yourself?” a deep voice asked.
She let out a startled cry and reacted without meaning to, her hand reflexively flinging the muck she’d pulled out of the gutter. She watched, horror filling her as it landed.
Right on the sexy man standing on the ground next to the ladder, his head tilted back as he frowned up at her.
Lucie had never been able to throw a ball properly. She’d missed every goal she’d tried to land in whatever sport she attempted. Basketball, baseball, soccer. It didn’t matter if she was using her hands or feet, she couldn’t get the ball where it needed to go to save herself.