“You can have the couch,” she said, moving into the hall. “I’ll get you some blankets.” Once in the safety of her bedroom—with the door closed and locked—she pulled two of the quilts from her bed. She folded them and hesitated before moving into her walk-in closet. Despite his daredevil tendencies, she’d loved Brady. His death had devastated her, and she hadn’t been able to throw away all of his things.
She pushed hangers to the side to gain easier access to the several items she’d kept hidden in the back. His favorite sweatshirt—Cal State. The T-shirt she’d bought him for Father’s Day in their third year of marriage, when she’d found out she was pregnant. She fingered the unused cotton, an item he’d never worn because she’d lost the baby. Neither one of them had been able to get rid of the shirt, though.
The thought of Jared wearing Brady’s clothes curled her stomach in knots, but she certainly couldn’t have him sleeping on her couch in his birthday suit. She grabbed a pair of basketball shorts from the shelf and the Cal State sweatshirt and tossed them on top of the blankets.
She found Jared in the kitchen, in the same position she’d left him in. “I—here are some blankets and some dry clothes you can change into.”
He lifted one eyebrow at her but followed her into the living room. “I thought you said you lived alone.” He took the men’s shorts and looked at her, curiosity burning through his expression.
She felt a pull to him, even in the dim light. “I do.” She shook out a blanket. “I’ll get you some pillows.” She escaped from his presence, but his gaze lingered on her even after she returned with the pillows, bade him good night, and escaped to her bedroom.
As she lay in the darkness, she wished she didn’t feel warmer just because she knew he was there.
Chapter Two
Jared lay on the comfortable couch—Millie’s couch—and stared into the darkness. He couldn’t help thinking that if he were still in Denver he’d have been able to make himself something hot to eat, had low light to do his crossword puzzles, and a heater blowing welcomed warmth on his feet.
As it was, the wind pounded the house and the relentless rain drove the temperature into painfully low degrees. He thought of Carla, and how if she were here he wouldn’t be cold at all. Through the pitch-blackness, he glanced in what he thought was the direction of Millie’s bedroom. He’d come over for many reasons, one of which was because he was lonely. And while the nosy neighbor wasn’t his first choice for company, the vulnerability in her eyes when he’d asked about the clothes haunted him.
She had dark eyes that seemed even more mysterious in the powerless house. Sure, she was cold and standoffish, but he couldn’t blame her for that. He hadn’t been very nice to her that morning on the beach.
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her either. Frustrated now, just as he had been all day, he punched his pillow and turned onto his side. He was in no position to get involved with another woman after what had happened with Carla. And yet, Millie had inserted herself into his mind until she drove him into the storm and onto her couch.
Jared told himself he had done it because he was hungry, and with those false thoughts in his head, he finally found rest.
* * *
The next afternoon, Jared stepped from the hot shower in his own house, having left Millie’s that morning. The sun shone like the previous day’s storm had never existed, though in February it didn’t provide much warmth. It had taken the power company several hours to restore electricity, and as soon as they did, Jared had gotten in the shower to finally warm up. The next item on his list was to stock the house with food so he wouldn’t have to go begging next door again, where he clearly wasn’t wanted.
He tossed his still-wet clothes and the ones he’d borrowed from Millie into the washing machine before he headed into the garage. The two trees in the front yard were bent and bowed, with broken branches decorating the front lawn. He’d have to make a stop at the hardware store too.
As he straddled his bike, he wondered how he’d get the equipment home. His saddlebags certainly weren’t big enough for tree shears. One thing at a time, he thought as he started the ignition. The loud rumble soothed him, and though he’d never been a motorcycle fan in Denver, he could definitely see himself flying down the coastal highway here, the ocean his constant companion.
Jared made it to downtown Redwood Bay in only a few minutes. He’d been dreading his return to town, especially this jaunt down Main Street––AKA Memory Lane.
He passed Lucy’s diner, noting that in the fifteen years since he’d been gone, the parking lot had been updated, the paint on the outside refreshed, and the landscaping modernized. She’d sustained heavy damage from the storm, and several of her windows had been boarded up. A couple of men stood on the roof, and Jared slowed his bike as he took in the debris that had been pushed to the gutters.
He maneuvered past the hardware store, the bakery, his cousin’s flower shop, and the touristy units that had popped up over the years. Every building had suffered from the driving wind, hail, and rain.
Men and women labored to clean up mud and branches, broken glass, shredded roof tiles, and more. When Jared arrived at the grocery store, he found the other half of Redwood Bay packed into the aisles. They pushed overfull carts of bottled water and packaged goods, almost like they were preparing for an incoming storm instead of recovering from one that had already passed.
A thread of unease snaked through Jared even though he’d checked the weather that morning. The threat of storms was over. He took a basket and collected a few things to get him through a week or so and checked out. After returning home and putting away his groceries, he went back to town, this time stopping by the hardware store.
The parking lot was empty, and a sign on the door read, “Out helping those in need. Come join us!” The address to the city park was written on the bottom. Though nerves sang through Jared at the thought of getting involved with the townspeople, he reasoned that he had nothing waiting for him at Sophie’s house. No job. No way to keep paying for groceries once the money from the sale of his engagement ring ran out. Meeting local business owners could be beneficial in the long run.
Jared’s ribcage seemed to narrow. He definitely didn’t want to consider Redwood Bay in the long term. Sophie would be back in eight months. The day she returned and he’d have to leave couldn’t come soon enough.
He turned from the sign on the hardware store and rumbled his way to the city park. A group of people stood in the pavilion, and he joined them as the man speaking finished up.
“…possible roof work. Who can go?”
Jared didn’t know where or who needed the help, but he could wield a hammer. He raised his hand, and the man nodded at him and indicated a box of tools. “The dress shop is next door to Polly’s. The rest of us will start on clearing the streets.” With those words as his only directions, Jared took the tools and headed out. Only in a town like Redwood Bay would someone assume that everyone already knew who Polly was and where her shop was located.
Thankfully, Jared did. He found the dress shop next to his cousin’s place and could see right through the broken-out windows. No one had been here to board up, though the sidewalks had been swept.
He pushed into the shop, almost taking the weakened door off its hinges. “Hello?”
“Just a minute!” a woman called from the back room. Jared glanced around, finding the place in complete chaos. Obvious water damage lingered on the floor. Gowns had been moved away from the puddles, and Jared wondered if anything had been ruined. Judging by the silks and other fancy fabrics he saw on the remaining dresses, he guessed the shop owner had lost more than just a day’s work.
He moved to the counter and put down the box. The residue of mud remained on the floor, and smudges of dirt marred racks and walls. “You okay?” he called down the hall.
Rapid footsteps approached and a woman appeared, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Thank you for coming.” She swiped her hair
out of her eyes, leaving a smear of dirt on her forehead. “The roof is—You.”
“Hello, Millie.” Jared resisted the urge to smile, though his lips were twitching upward. Just his luck to volunteer to help the only woman in this town who already knew him—and clearly didn’t like him. “Heard you needed some help.” He tapped the box. “I’m here to help.”
She crossed her arms, and if there was an Olympic event for glowering, she’d win the gold medal every time.
“You have a little something there.” He reached out and touched her forehead.
She flinched and backed up. “Taylor sent over some lumber, but….” She glanced toward the front windows.
“I’m on it.” He gestured toward the back of the shop. “Show me where the boards are, and I’ll get your windows done.”
She retreated back the way she’d come, and Jared enjoyed the view. Millie wore her dark hair in a high ponytail, revealing a slender neck that spread into strong shoulders, then a narrow waist and swelling hips that Jared imagined he could fit his palms around quite comfortably.
He yanked his gaze from her body and swallowed his rising desire. He was here to help her get her shop back together, not help himself to her.
“Looks like the roof got hit hard,” he said, grateful when his voice came out normal.
“Yeah.” She exited the shop to a back parking lot, where a pile of supplies waited.
“I’ll start on that after I get the windows done.”
“You don’t—”
Jared silenced her by putting his finger on her lips. Soft, supple lips he couldn’t help thinking about kissing. “You don’t want my help?”
She turned her head and he dropped his hand. “If I’d known Taylor was going to send you, I wouldn’t have asked for help.”
He stared at her for a moment before he broke into a laugh. “I didn’t even know you owned the dress shop, sweetheart.” He picked up two boards, hefted them over his shoulder, and started around the building. “But now that I’m here, you’re stuck with me.”
He shouldn’t enjoy her anger so much, but he couldn’t help it. Perhaps Redwood Bay wasn’t the worst place he could’ve landed, especially if the spicy dress shop owner would let him kiss her later.
* * *
Millie watched Jared swagger around the corner, hardly even straining under the weight of the lumber he carried. Sweetheart sang through her ears as she returned to her shop through the back door. Part of her wouldn’t mind being his sweetheart. The other part wanted to clock him right in his perfect mouth for calling her such a thing. Hammering came from the front of the shop, but Millie resisted the urge to go watch Jared work. At least he’d left the black leather at home today.
But he didn’t need a fancy jacket to be delicious. His height, his surfer boy blue eyes, his golden hair, and his muscles accomplished that. She wondered what he’d done before strutting into town on the eve of the biggest storm Redwood Bay had seen in a century. She’d heard that from generational resident Mae Leavitt. She’d been all over town, telling everyone about how her roof had weathered the storm because her granddaddy had reinforced it after the last gale.
“Why is Jared Newton nailing your shop back together?”
Millie turned at the sound of Sadie Blake’s voice. Millie’s best friend stood with her hands on her hips and her eyes wide. “Who?” Millie asked, as if she didn’t know who Jared Newton was.
Sadie pushed her toward the hallway, where she peeked around the corner. “Jared Newton.” She spoke in a low voice. “I heard he was back in town, but wow. I had no idea he’d grown into that.”
That was what had kept Millie awake for half the night. His snoring had kept her up for the second half. “What do you know about him?” she asked Sadie, whose family had been in Redwood Bay nearly as long as Mae’s.
“He left town when he was only sixteen,” Sadie said. “Didn’t graduate from high school here. Had some trouble with his dad.”
Millie could relate to that, but she didn’t vocalize as much.
“He was tall and scrawny,” Sadie whispered. “Nothing like that muscled God out there.”
“He’s a meathead all right,” Millie murmured as Jared lifted another board into place and began hammering. The light disappeared from the front windows, blocking her view of “that muscled God.”
“Nah,” Sadie said. “I heard he got his GED and went on to law school in Denver.”
“How do you hear these things?” Millie asked half annoyed and half appreciative of the information about her new neighbor.
“Word gets around fast. I would’ve texted you yesterday, but I knew you’d have your phone off.” Sadie smirked at her, and Millie rolled her eyes.
“I was conserving my battery in case of an emergency.”
“Right,” Sadie said. “So what’s he doing here?”
“Fixing my windows,” Millie said, returning to the dresses that had gotten ruined from the leakage. They were irreparable, and her chest squeezed sharply. She couldn’t afford to absorb the loss of two dozen dresses. But with streaks of mud, pounds of sand, and hours of leaking water, she didn’t have much choice.
“That much is obvious.” Sadie flopped into the armchair in the corner of Millie’s sewing room. “How did he get to be working here?”
“He said he volunteered at the park.”
“I’ll bet he did.” Sadie giggled.
“He said he didn’t even know I owned the dress shop.” Millie fingered the lilac taffeta of a gown she’d been commissioned to make, only to have the bride decide she wanted teal instead.
“Right,” Sadie said again. “I’ve heard he doesn’t make mistakes when it comes to women.”
Millie glanced up. “What does that mean?”
Sadie flounced to her feet. “It means that maybe it’s time for you to start looking next door for your next date.” She left before Millie could formulate a response.
She heard Jared whistling as he entered the shop, and she bent her head over a dress she’d begun to remake earlier that afternoon.
“You got a ladder?” he asked, forcing her to look up from her sewing machine. He wore a tool belt now, and the weight of it pulled his jeans dangerously low on his hips.
She tried to swallow and found her mouth too dry. “You don’t have to fix my roof.”
He leaned into the doorway, and Millie thought maybe Sadie had been right about where to look for her next date. Just as quickly, she dismissed such fantasies. She wasn’t interested in a man who took risks with his life the way Brady had. She’d dated a few guys in the years she’d been in Redwood Bay, and they were what she thought she wanted. Safe. Gentle.
Boring.
Just looking at Jared got her blood pressure up. She was sure he was anything but boring. Millie reminded herself of the endless hours she’d spent crying in her mother’s living room, worried about where Brady was and why he hadn’t come home when he said he would.
“Millie?”
She blinked and found Jared standing in front of her. She hadn’t noticed him moving from the doorway. “What?”
He took in the ruined dresses, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “You okay here?”
“I’m fine,” she said. If you’d leave, she added silently.
“You want help moving the other dresses out of harm’s way?”
She leaned back from her sewing machine, the knots in her shoulders protesting with the movement. “No, they’re fine. There’s a ladder in the closet by the back door.”
“It’s going to take a few days to fix that roof,” he said, glancing up, though there were no repairs to be made in the sewing room. “It’s getting dark, and I want to get home while I can still see.”
Millie closed early in the winter, because she didn’t like being in the shop alone after dark. “I hadn’t realized it had gotten so late.”
Compassion filled his eyes as he gazed at her. “I’m real sorry about your shop, sweetheart.” He touched the sh
oulder of a wedding gown that Millie had labored over for three months, sewing the beads onto the bodice one by one. Water had dripped down the back of it, staining the pearly white fabric a dark gray.
He sounded genuine, which somehow infuriated Millie. What did he know about loss? She’d lost her husband, a baby, and everything she’d ever known when she decided to leave Seattle. She hadn’t been able to tolerate seeing people who had known and loved Brady, couldn’t stomach answering her mother’s constant questions, couldn’t seem to emotionally move on without physically moving away.
Tears rose through her throat and she shrugged into her jacket so she could turn away from Jared. “I’ll follow you,” she offered. “In case you slide off the road on that ridiculous bike.”
He followed her out the back door. “So you don’t like motorcycles.”
“No,” she clipped out. “Where are you parked?”
“The volunteers gathered at the park.” He pointed north, as if Millie didn’t know where the park was.
“I’ll wait here,” she said.
He removed his tool belt, dropped it on the lumber still in the parking lot, and walked toward the street.
“And Jared?”
He turned, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“I do need your help with the roof.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he smiled. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
Chapter Three
A blast of heat hit Jared when he walked into the house. He sighed, wishing Sophie had a fireplace to further warm himself after a chilly ride home. He couldn’t help wondering what Millie thought of him as she followed. He’d pulled all the way into the garage and had only waved to her from the doorway. He didn’t want her to retract her plea for help.
Jared pulled the loaf of bread out and made himself a peanut butter sandwich. After turning on the TV, he was bored in ten seconds. He never was one to sit around, doing nothing.