Bounty (Colorado Mountain 7)

“I need somethin’, I’ll call Max.”

Definitely didn’t want friendly.

“Fine,” I said and it came out more curt (or hurt) than I wanted it to.

He didn’t miss it. Oh no, he didn’t. I knew this with the way his chin jerked slightly to the side and something slid over his features only to vanish before I could read it.

He didn’t want friendly, that was okay. If the ticked-off morning bear I could become didn’t raise her ugly head, he could not want whatever he didn’t want.

I was still going to be friendly.

“You change your mind, I’ll be back in a few hours and happy to pick you up a sandwich or get a pizza,” I offered. “Just call Max and ask for my number.”

He said nothing.

I decided not to roll my eyes or give him a glare.

I just turned on my wellie and walked into my bedroom, calling behind me, “Later, Deke.”

I shut the French door behind me seeing he’d already disappeared.

* * * * *

I sat on my Adirondack chair, bottle of beer resting on the arm, brochures Mindy had given me scattered around, all of them now having Post-it notes sticking out of the tops and sides, but I was scrolling through images on my phone that Dana’s interior designer had sent to me.

Reception out there was spotty, which sucked and made anything loading take forever.

I needed cable and Wi-Fi.

Then again, I needed a lot of things.

“Yo.” I heard and looked right to see Deke standing at the bottom of the stairs.

I was not thrilled to see that after work, sweat making his shirt cling to his chest, flecks of wood sticking to his tee, he looked better than he did fresh and alert and recently caffeinated in the morning.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“Done for the day,” he declared.

Still not friendly.

His call.

“Okay, great, thanks.”

“Be back at seven,” he stated.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Gonna be doin’ the insulation. You might not wanna be around,” he warned.

“Noisy?” I asked.

“That and other things,” he kind of answered.

I nodded. “I’ll make myself scarce. I’ll do whatever for insulation. Nights are getting nippy.”

Deke had no comment.

“Enjoy your evening,” I bid.

He lifted his chin, turned and walked away.

I wondered about my poet’s soul. I was thinking, as I watched him walk away, that it might be faulty, seeing as it was what picked that guy for me.

I gave it some time before I set my phone aside, got up and wandered down the stairs and around the house only to stop and stare.

Except for some minimal decking around the edges, the railing and the finishing touches at the top of the fire pit, the deck was done.

And it looked amazing.

It was huge and it was perfect and I loved it.

I also wished I’d seen it before Deke had left so I could tell him that.

I hadn’t so I’d have to tell him tomorrow.

Right then, it was time to send an email to Dana’s designer.

That deck needed furniture.

I’d also have to talk to Max. I’d be willing to wait another day to be able to do laundry to have that deck done and available to me.

Totally.

* * * * *

Deke

Deke sat in his chair outside, watching the lake turn orange, his mind not on the lake but on the fact that he wouldn’t have to dip too low to find the bottom of Jus’s short, lace dress and slide it up over her ass.

These thoughts shifted uncomfortably to her saying, He’d die another death, a more painful one this time, knowing his boy was acting this way to the two women in his life that he loved the most.

She had trouble with her brother, some that sounded really not good.

And her dad was dead.

Jus didn’t look to be much older than thirty. Either the man had babies late or he’d died young.

Deke’s mind barely wrapped around that fact when he heard her voice say, I’m here. Always here for you, my beautiful sister.

Something was going down with a sister as well.

Neither of those calls sounded good.

Still, she made them then looked at him, pulled it together and offered to bring him back a pizza.

He thought for certain the way she opened the door to him she was what he thought she was, a fake gypsy princess slumming in the Colorado mountains on millions of dollars’ worth of land.

Her offering him a sandwich, wearing that cute-as-fuck dress and stomping around in those ridiculous boots that she looked comfortable in, not like she was missing her high heels, he was wondering if he was right.

“Christ,” he bit out, pushed up, went into his trailer and made a bologna and cheese sandwich.

He ate it and went right back out to head to Bubba’s.

He did this hoping Jus wasn’t there.

At the same time denying he hoped she was.

* * * * *

Justice

I was in the garage the next morning, staring impatiently at Mr. Coffee as it dribbled brown elixir, when I heard the muted banging.

Deke was there.

I moved into the house, through it and to the front door.

No PJs that morning. I was barely dressed and had had no shower. But I was dressed, awake, and determined not to be a bitch.

I opened the door and looked up.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“Hey,” he greeted back.

“I’m making coffee,” I stated, shifting out of the door to let him in, and he came in while I was still talking. “I’ll bring you a mug when it’s done. Then I’ll hit the shower and get out of here while you get on with things. You want me to come back around noon with food or something?”