Rebel Aiden wiped the back of her wrist across her forehead. Sweat and dust smeared together. The faint smell of rotting potatoes hung in the air, dancing with the swirling dust motes. Grit stuck to her teeth and tongue.
Had her parents ever removed anything from this storage room? Years of accumulated grime was nearly cleared out. She couldn’t wait to check another project off her list.
She stretched her shoulders and chest, a small groan escaping as she twisted to one side.
A teacher didn’t do this sort of physical labor. Not that she’d be teaching for a few months. Maybe not even in the fall. Thanks to her husband, she’d had to move away from her dream job in Olympia, Washington.
Ex-husband.
She should have listened to her parents’ warnings about Richard Aiden, salesman extraordinaire, but his baby blue eyes and charming smile pushed the off button on her good sense. At least she got two great kids out of the deal.
Her chest contracted. Air strangled in her throat. She closed her eyes, squeezing hard against the tears burning behind her lids.
I miss them. But it’s only for a month, or six weeks. They missed their dad.
Maybe having them underfoot would stifle his philandering. Rebel snorted. The man was insatiable in the bedroom. As much as they rumpled the sheets, she never would have guessed he was stepping out with anyone else. Let alone a woman in every city he visited. Apparently, five days was much too long to go without.
No point in counting how long it had been for her. Eight months since the divorce was final, and two months before that when they were estranged. It was summer break, and she refused to do the math.
She shuffled into the dim storage room. Time to finish cleaning this barn. If she wanted to sell the old place, the realtor had a long list of projects that needed to be completed. Cleaning the barn was one Rebel could handle on her own. Lord knows she didn’t have extra money for a contractor.
She hauled a load of trash out to the dumpster she’d rented. Beneath a box of old potato sacks, a burlap bag snagged between two floorboards. She’d strained against the thing for a good ten minutes earlier in the day, finally giving up when it wouldn’t budge. A few more tugs, and she’d grab the shears and cut it.
Leather gloves slipped against her sweaty palms. The barn trapped heat like nobody’s business. Must be the black metal roof. At least it was only a few years old, and she wouldn’t have to replace it.
Rebel fisted both hands around the rough fabric. She widened her stance, glancing at her dust-covered hikers. Summer was for hiking, but she doubted she’d have a day free from the demands of her inheritance. She threw her weight against the bag. A grunt of exertion passed her lips as she leaned backward.
“Come on.” She twisted the bag around her fingers, gripping right at the floor line. And heaved. The bag loosened a fraction of an inch, sending her stumbling backward.
Into a very human chest.
Rebel wheeled around raising her hands in a defensive posture. The homeless man she’d hustled out of her pasture the previous morning stood less than a foot away. Her heart slammed against her breastbone. She shuffled away from him, scanning the room for a weapon. Nothing. She’d completely cleared it out.
He stood there, arms akimbo. She noticed the leather outfit, too hot for Idaho summer, hugging his lean frame. He dressed like a mountain man from the nineteenth century, down to the moccasin-like slippers on his feet.
Jewel nudged her way into the room, panting. And she was supposed to guard and protect?
“Let me help you.” His voice soothed along her frayed nerves like a lullaby.
He knelt beside the potato sack, thin fingers working the coarse fabric from side-to-side. In less than ten seconds, he freed the offensive bag and held it out to her.
“What are you doing here?” What was it about this man that made her forget how to speak like a woman with an advanced college degree?
“Helping you.” When she didn’t take the sack from him, his hand dropped to his side. “I wanted to ask before sleeping in your tree again.”
Jewel nudged his knee with her shoulder. His hand absently scratched at the dog’s ears. If the dog was a good judge of character, Rebel should put her back down, and squelch her impulse to sprint out of the barn and lock herself in the house.
“You want to sleep in my tree?”
His wide mouth broke into a boyish grin. With those smooth cheeks, he couldn’t be more than twenty years old. Although, the look in his gold-flecked blue eyes seemed older.
Why are you noticing the color of his eyes?
Rebel shook her head, sending her braid scraping across her shoulder and into her ear.
“Most people rent rooms.”
His shapely eyebrows pressed together for a moment. “I need to earn money first.”
“You’re traveling around without money?” If she didn’t stop asking inane questions, he was bound to think American women were idiots.
He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand. What did it matter if he slept in her tree? She could lock the doors. Although closing all the windows in this sultry weather wouldn’t make it easy to sleep upstairs. Maybe she’d use her parents’ bedroom. She’d cleaned it out already. There was an air conditioning unit and ceiling fan in there.
“Are you hungry?”
He patted his stomach. “What can I do to pay for my dinner?”
The way his eyes raked across her figure before returning to her face made her shiver. With fear or anticipation? Over the tumult of swirling in her stomach and chest, she couldn’t think straight. Was she really that hard up?
“The loose boards go in the burn pile. The sack in your hand can join the rest of the trash in the dumpster.”
He nodded and turned toward the doorway, stepping out of the way and bowing slightly. The gentlemanly gesture looked ridiculous coming from the rustic figure.
Rebel paused for a moment, blood pulsing in her ears. Her knees wobbled as she stepped toward the doorway. Jewel stood when Rebel’s boot nearly squashed the dog’s skinny tail. A fragrance reminiscent of a recent rainfall flooded her nostrils. Was that him? Since when did a homeless guy smell so good?
A current singed the air between her and the stranger. The toe of her boot caught on the floorboard delineating the doorway. She tripped forward until warm fingers closed around her shoulder.
Heat and electricity snapped every nerve ending around the point of contact. Rebel gasped as lava flooded her cheeks.
“I will not let you fall.”
His words whispered across her neck like a caress. Chills raced other chills over her back.
“You’d think I could walk on my own.” Why did she sound out of breath?
Holt’s fingers trailed down her arm, igniting another round of chaotic tingling. “I think you work too hard.”
Rebel twisted her head. Her stomach collided with her heart when she stared into his glowing blue eyes.
I thought I was done with blue-eyed charmers.
She shook the thought away and stumbled forward a few more steps, slapping his outstretched hand away.
“Sandwiches coming up.”
Her feet and legs finally cooperated, and she fled the barn as fast as possible without looking like she ran away. The slap of late afternoon heat against her face cooled her burning embarrassment.
He was a stranger. She wasn’t that desperate.
“He’s too young for me,” she muttered.
Which is why she shut the door in his face after handing him two thick ham and cheese sandwiches and a liter of water.
Too bad slamming the door in his handsome face didn’t banish him from her dreams.