The Wayward Sister (The Wayward Sons 5)

His gaze lingers, and I feel the hair on my neck raise. “Maybe you could introduce me to it sometime.”

“Yeah, so, I have a list of things from the home inspector.” I walk across the room to find the paper he’d left the day before. I have a stack of things I’d been going through. Old paperwork on the house. I shuffle through them and find the right one. I spin and slam into Reid’s torso. “Oh. Wow. Uh, here.”

He grabs my arm to give me balance, but instead of letting go, he holds on, grinning down at me. My stomach twists anxiously.

“You know, I do remember you,” he says, quietly. “Sierra Falco two grades below. Cheerleader. Seeing you up on that ladder jogged my memory. You’ve always had fantastic legs.”

I swallow and try to take a step back, but I’m pinned in between Reid and edge of the couch. I try to disguise my shaking hands. “Uh, maybe I can show you some of the work that needs to be done on the house?”

His eyes flick toward the back of the house, toward the bedrooms. No, that was not my intention, but he and I are definitely not on the same page here. He reaches out and skims his fingers over my cheek, bringing a wave of nausea up my throat. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

The loud pounding of a knock sounds on the front door. With my heart pounding, I look around Reid and see Holden’s familiar face in the doorway. His expression is apologetic, I get it. Reid and I look like we’re in a compromising position, especially with his shirt off, but Holden’s eyes narrow in concern.

“Holden!” I say, too loudly. I use the distraction to slip away from Reid.

He holds up the empty pie pan and towel I’d wrapped it in. “I was headed into town and offered to bring this back.”

I walk over and take it—my legs wobbly. Our eyes meet. “Good. I was hoping you’d stop by.” I swallow thickly. “And you know, we could do that thing.”

He frowns, and I raise an eyebrow. Understanding clicks. “Yeah, I figured we could get started on that project you talked about.” He looks over at Reid and offers his hand. “Hey, Holden Connell.”

“Reid Langford—handyman and former schoolmate of Sierra’s.”

Holden doesn’t explain our connection as the men shake hands. I slip away to the kitchen to put the pie pan and towel on the counter. I also need some space. After a few deep breaths, I walk back into the room. “You know, Reid, today may not be that great to talk about the estimates. I completely spaced that Holden was coming today, and he drove all the way in from the park to help me.”

Reid’s eyes skip between me and Holden. “Yeah, sure. I can come back.”

I smile tightly. “I’ll call you, okay? To make sure you don’t waste your time.”

“Right.” He’s still assessing me and Holden, trying to figure out who he is to me.

It’s none of his god-damned business.

“I’ll call you,” he walks out of the room, grabbing his shirt off the ladder rung, and heading out the door. Neither Holden nor I speak until we hear his car start up and drive down the road.

Holden lifts an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Yeah, thank god you did. That was headed somewhere weird.”

“He did have a vibe.” His eyes sweep over me. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. We met the other day at the hardware store. I needed a handyman. I think he was hoping that job involved more hands than, you know, actual work.” I look over at the ladder. “He came in and startled me. Things escalated from there.”

“Maybe keep your doors locked from now on.”

I snort. “You trying to tell me what to do?”

“Never, but you’re way out here and all alone. Mammoth Lake is a small place. It won’t take people long to find out there’s a beautiful woman living out here on her own.”

Did Holden just call me beautiful?

Heat climbs my body.

He looks around the house. “So, you’re fixing this place up?”

“To sell, yes.”

“Listen,” he says, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “Adrian’s right, we have a lot of experience with tools and repair work. If you need anything, we’re happy to help.”