Stormy Surrender

By the time she was driving back to New Hope, Marti was feeling less than hopeful. She had read through the divorce laws for Vermont. And she soon realized that she had been tricked. It was obvious that Blaine had been planning this. The moment she announced her desire to move, he had turned that to his advantage. And there was the distinct possibility that he was now going to blame the divorce on her. He could say very easily that she had abandoned him, knowing full well that he couldn’t leave town on a moment’s notice. It was her word against his when it came to the house in New Hope, which was entirely in her name. And though he had clearly transferred money to the new account, it could easily be twisted and explained away so that she was the bad guy. Marti hated being portrayed as the bad guy. There really was only one recourse.

The paralegal who answered soon realized that they wouldn’t be able to represent her because they were already representing Blaine. And even though she asked when he had spoken to them, trying to determine how long he had been planning this, the paralegal couldn’t answer that question either. So, the second firm she called was more than happy to work with her. They recommended that she come in for a consultation. When she explained that she was in South Carolina, they all but insisted she return to get the divorce paperwork started and begin the division of assets.

Just as she had imagined, it was early afternoon when she returned to her new home. She trudged up the steps. She was distracted, thinking about the discussion she had with the paralegal, wondering what she should do next, feeling worse by the minute. She shifted the weight on her legs as she pushed to get the door open and that’s when the board under her left foot gave. There was a snapping sound as the wood splintered. And then she was buried knee deep in her own porch. Though her first instinct should have been to pull herself out of the mess she was in, this just seemed like further proof that she was in too deep, so Marti sat hard on the porch and burst into tears.

Lunch had been really good until the end. Laurel had loaded his basket with fries. She provided not one, but two small bottles of Texas Pete. And then, just before he left the café, she had walked over with a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. She knew they were his favorite. As he was about to thank her and reach for one, she pulled the plate just out of reach.

“Now you stay away from Marti,” she said. “Leave her be and you can have all the cookies and Texas Pete you want.” She started to leave the plate in front of him, but hesitated when she saw the look of bewilderment on his face. “What?”

“Does remodeling her house count?” He was practically salivating over those cookies as he imagined eating just about the entire plate full.

“Does it count for what?” She asked then with narrowed eyes. She still hadn’t let go of the plate though it was resting solidly on the table.

He sighed. “Does it count against me? I need the work.” And he tentatively reached for a cookie, only to have the entire plate yanked off the table.

“It most certainly does count against you!” Laurel stormed back to the kitchen muttering to herself something about common sense.

Suddenly, though the temperature was staying a moderate fifty degrees, New Hope was feeling a lot colder. The women of the town had always taken care of him, looked out for him, spoiled him and babied him a little. In return, he was quick to lend a hand. Only now, they were out to get him, siding with a stranger. It hurt.

Joe noted that Marti’s vehicle was in her driveway as he pulled into his. It would have been impossible to miss. And after he parked, he turned, just in time to see her fall through the porch. He winced, imagining that must have hurt, too. And shaking his head, he walked over to help. As he neared her vanishing form on the porch, he heard the first sign of her distress. She was crying…and not just a few stray tears. No she was currently racked with gut wrenching sobs. Well, he couldn’t vouch for what they were doing to her gut, but his was completely in knots as he listened.

Looping his hands under her arms, he hefted her slowly out of the hole she was in. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured against her head as he pulled her free. “Everything can be fixed.”

“Not everything,” she responded with a hollow laugh. And once she was back on solid boards, she wiped at her eyes and thanked him. “I could have gotten out by myself, you know.”

He crossed his harms over his chest. “I know, but sometimes we could all use a little bit of help.” He studied her face. She was wiping at the debris on her hands, checking for splinters, and he noticed the uncomfortable way she rubbed at her ring finger…her naked ring finger.

She realized he had noticed. That man didn’t miss much. “This,” she said raising her hand so he could see it better. “This is one of the many things that can’t be fixed.” She started to head into the house through the open door when she cursed. “Dammit. And I don’t even have water to wash my hands.” She chuckled and sniffled. This was a fine mess she was in.

“Come on,” he motioned for her to follow him across the road to his house. She started to, but even as she took that first step, she realized that her leg was hurting and she could feel a warm wetness trickling down to her ankle. She stopped once she was off the porch and on solid ground again. There was a rip in her jeans, and sure enough…a gouge in her leg that was just big and nasty enough to require a visit to a doctor or urgent care. “Of course,” she said. She inhaled deeply a few times.

Apparently Joe had mistaken her calming breaths for pain as he had now scooped her up into his arms and was in the process of carrying her to his house. She knew she should protest. She was quite certain nothing was broken. And yet at the moment, there was no place she would rather be than nestled in his strong arms. Before this, she had only seen arms like this in movies. She had only imagined what something like this would feel like. Now she was experiencing it. And there was something comfortable and natural about the way it felt to have his arms around her. Without thinking, she wrapped an arm around his neck and buried her face against his throat. It was warm and smelled fresh and clean. She wanted to stay there forever. Then it was over. Joe had placed her on the counter, smoothly extricated himself, and was now examining her injury while she was struggling to recover from their closeness.

“I’m fine,” she argued, a bit unnerved.

“You just fell through your porch. I told you it had to come down. I swear. Did you not listen to me? Did you not believe me? Or were you just not paying attention?” He was ranting while pulling up her jeans to get a better look at the wound.

She bit her lip for a moment. She had just stopped crying and was trying desperately not to start again. Everything was getting to her at the moment, from the shock of her being alone in a strange town far away from everything and everyone she had ever known, to the embarrassment of the injury, and the utter humiliation she felt from having her husband discard her like a stone in his shoe. She sniffled and looked around to see if there was something for her to wipe her nose on other than her sleeve. Finding nothing, she shrugged and swiped at her nose anyway. It was better than the alternative.

When she looked at him again, he was studying her leg with a frown. “When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

Her head fell to the side as she considered that question. “I don’t know. I could call my doctor and ask him. I’ve had the same one my entire life. It has become more awkward with age…” Her voice trailed off and she smirked.

“Well, you call while I drive.” And with that he picked her up and brought her out to his truck. He stood her next to the door while he opened the passenger side for her.

He was about to pick her up again to lift her into the cab when she peeled his hands off her waist and pushed him back with one hand to the middle of his strong muscular chest. And after she recovered from that distraction, she glared at him. “I can walk, you know. You don’t need to man handle me.” Her hands were on her hips and she narrowed her eyes while she spoke. She started to climb in and discovered he had moved closer again so she waved his hand away. Once she was seated, she turned to him. “There. All by myself.” And then she pulled the door closed.

By the time he had walked around the truck, she had already started to call the doctor. And soon she had the nurse looking up her file. “I’m on hold,” she announced while she sat there with the phone against her ear.

“I can see that.” He was mildly frustrated with her at the moment. He was also rather impressed. Finn was the kind to milk every injury. Back then he had to constantly baby her, coddle her, and treat her like a princess. Now he had to deal with Marti who had a gouge in her leg so deep that he swore he could see bone, but she would rather die than accept any help.

She was jotting down information, like the date of her last shot and the fax number for the office in case she needed to fax them to get her records. Then he heard it start to get personal. He could tell because she switched ears, held the phone on her right side far from him. And it was obvious she was trying to get off the phone as quickly as she could. She sighed and spoke in a low voice. “Thank you. Your condolences are much appreciated.” And then she hung up. He could see that she was trying to avoid making eye contact. She was skillfully managing to stare out the window no matter what tactic he used to try to gain her attention.

Joe made a decision. If cute and coy weren’t going to work for him in that moment, then he was simply going to have to take the direct approach. “So, did I hear that you lost someone?” He asked.

She looked at him, her face carefully devoid of expression. “Two someones, actually.” And with that, she turned her attention back to the passing landscape. He didn’t even try. Joe knew there was no way to reach her.

As he pulled into his physician’s office, he finally commented. “Listen, since you don’t have a doctor here yet, I thought I’d bring you to mine. Dr. Snow has a liberal walk-in policy. And with me here, you’ll probably be seen sooner.

He didn’t lie. They were in and out in half an hour. It was closing in on 2:30pm. Marti had been given a shot and a lecture. And finally they walked out the door with a course of treatment and a script for antibiotics just in case the leg started to look ugly. As soon as they hopped back in the cab of his truck, he turned to her and asked something that had been plaguing him for hours.

“Do you have dinner plans?” It was a lot more difficult to spit that out than he had imagined. And he waited quietly for an answer. He had taken sales training classes for his insurance position back in Charlotte. Though he may have forgotten the bulk of the teachings and tactics, one lesson had stuck through the years. At the moment he was repeating it over and over again in his head. The concept was simple really. He who speaks first loses. And because he had everything to gain and nothing to lose, he waited for her response.

Finally, she answered. “I have no plans, but I’m guessing you had already figured that out.” Her jaw was tightening almost as though she was trying to hold back words. She shrugged. “Thank you for taking me to the doctor. I feel ridiculous, but the shot was necessary and apparently…so were the stitches.” She slowly seemed to be snapping out of it even if only by degrees. “I may be horribly disfigured now, but I doubt that anyone will notice.” With that she chuckled and leaned back in the seat.

He could see her struggling not to nod off. “You can take a power nap, if you want.” He realized that she was genuinely considering it. That’s why at the next light, he unhooked his seatbelt for a moment to reach over her and lean her seat back. Ever so slightly, she stirred. “You can rest,” Joe said quietly.

When it was clear that she was truly falling asleep, he punched an address into the GPS. It appeared he had a good two and a half hours of driving time before he reached his destination. This would be good for her, the nap and spending some time at the ocean. It always did wonders for his soul. In two and a half hours they would know if it had the same effect on her.

The sun was significantly lower in the sky when she woke up. That was the first thing Marti noticed. The second…was that there were palm trees when she looked out the window. Where were there palm trees in New Hope? It was a small town. She was certain she had seen pretty much all of it. And now it was obvious, as she gave Joe a sideways glance that they were most definitely not in New Hope any more.

“Are you selling me to a donkey show?” She asked wearily.

He chuckled. “No.”

She was visibly relieved, not because she was truly worried about a donkey show, but because she figured if his intentions were less than above board, he would already be acting nervous. Instead, this was more…guilty than nervous. This time, she would try the direct approach. “So, where are we?”

“You’ll see,” he said with a twinkle in his smiling clear blue eyes. He hummed badly while he drove. And soon, he turned up the radio to drown out his voice.

It was some Rock Station that she didn’t recognize. And as they sang along, she saw the first sign she had found in many miles. In twenty-three miles they would be in Myrtle Beach. Her head whipped around to look at him. Her eyes narrowed. “Are we going to the beach?”

“Maybe, if you are a very good girl…” His voice trailed off as he concentrated on switching lanes.

And she gave that a moment to sink in. They were going to the beach. She was good. That was definitely where they were going. She hadn’t been to the ocean in a very long time. She had been to Myrtle Beach…never. Suddenly, twenty-three miles might as well have been three thousand. They were not going to get there fast enough for her liking. Without even realizing it, she was bouncing in her seat. They were going to the beach!

By the time they arrived at their destination, Joe was beaming. It was obvious he had chosen correctly. Marti was a woman who appreciated an adventure. She was a woman who found fishy air and salty water to be therapy. When they pulled into the parking lot a block back from the boardwalk area, he had begun to wish he had one of those kid leashes for her. Even with an injury, she could hardly be contained.

“Listen,” he said, “there’s this place that makes the best homemade fries. And they have chicken wings, too. There’s an arcade over here. I’ll beat you at skeeball like it’s my job! And, of course, the sun is about to set, so if you want shells…” Before he had even completed his sentence, she was hunting around in the truck. “What are you doing?”

“You said if I want shells. I want shells!” He could see that she was rifling through his door, his floorboards, he guessed pretty much anywhere she imagined a baggy might have fallen during his travels.

“Does it look like I have a bunch of junk in here?” He asked almost impatiently.

“No…,” she said sadly. “I’ve never seen such a neat and organized truck in all my life.” She sounded more depressed at that than impressed.

“This is the way I make a living. I can’t be opening my door and leaving garbage all over the job or at people’s homes. They care about that.” He gestured to the buckets and bins. “I have a place for everything. And I put everything back in its place.”

“Great. So where do I put my shells?” She looked at him hopefully.

“You should have thought of that before you left.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“Are you serious?” She practically roared. “I fell through my porch, ended up getting stitches, fell asleep, and woke up on the other side of the state. When would I have known to plan for searching out sea shells?” She stomped away from the truck after slamming the cab door. “If you planned on doing this, you might have mentioned it so I could prepare!” She was walking in the direction of the shops they had passed.

He smiled again. Even as she hobbled along, the gentle swaying of her hips, the way her butt cheeks rose and fell with each stride, he was once again reminded how much he loved to watch her walk away…the angrier the better. He was rather enjoying walking behind her…until she stopped suddenly and whipped around to face him.

“Can we go to the beach first?” There was a pleading look in her eyes. He almost hated to deny her, but he knew she would forgive him in the long run.

“What if we get fries first?” He could see that the beach was calling to her despite the chilly temperatures. “They give us the fries in a cup. And then you can use the cup for your shells. Sound like a plan?”

She nodded happily and waited for him to catch up before walking any further. They walked side by side. He was still introspective, he was enjoying her enthusiasm. He only knew one other person who had made him this happy, this excited to do something he had done so many times. And for a moment, he wondered if it would always be that way around Marti. She certainly had a zeal for life. Of course...so had Finn. He sighed. Why did he feel the constant need to compare them? There was no comparison. Marti was married and Finn was gone. None of that was likely to change. He sighed.

When Marti heard the sigh, she glanced up at him. “Listen, just in case I get distracted or fall asleep on the ride back, too…I want you to know I appreciate this. This…impulse drive…was just what I needed today. You have no idea how much.” And then she looped her arm through his, matched his brisk pace, and headed to get their cup of fries.

It was funny, minutes later, as they were eating them, sharing the same cup that she realized the natural ease and closeness that had developed between them. There was no tension as their hands brushed occasionally. There were no awkward silences as they sat and ate while staring at the ocean from their wooden bench.

The sun was setting and the chill in the air was beginning to bite at her ears and nip at her nose, but still, she was drawn to the water. He looked at her questioningly. “Just for a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll be right back. You don’t even have to come down with me. I just…need to do this.” She saw him slowly nod as she backed away and turned to the water.

Her feet hit the sand. She felt it shifting under her Nikes. She knew that it would be cold and damp. There was no way she was taking off her shoes and socks. It wasn’t that kind of trip. Still, there was something soothing about the sound of the ocean as it washed against the shore. There was something relaxing about the mindless act of wandering down the beach, picking up whatever caught her attention. And a few minutes later, she felt him. It was strange to say that, but she didn’t know any other way to explain it. Never before had she experienced that sensation. All of a sudden, she just knew he was there. And when she turned, she found him about two feet behind her and up higher on the loose sand.

They were companionable. It was such a change from what she was used to in her life with Blaine. There was always this tension. He was always so stiff. He would never have walked the beach with her…especially at sunset. When she peeked to see what Joe was doing, she realized that he, too, was reveling in the glorious colors the sky was turning. He smiled at her and walked closer with his hand outstretched.

“I wasn’t sure what you were looking for,” he said. “So, I just picked up anything I thought was interesting. See anything you like?”

“Oh, I can’t take your shells. You keep them,” Marti said, both touched and surprised.

His hand dropped some and he looked her in the eyes a little taken aback. “But I got them for you…”

For some reason, she could tell that this really mattered to him. And with that, she offered him her cup to pour his treasures in. She felt…special. It took so little to make her happy. The fact that taking them seemed to make him feel better, too, didn’t hurt one bit.

As the sun dropped lower in the sky, they walked back to the boardwalk. There were stores to look in with the usual souvenirs, the tacky t-shirts, the shell memorabilia, the hermit crab looking uncomfortable and out of place in a painted shell. They looked around each enjoying their own areas of the store. Though the weather was easily thirty degrees too cold for her to be comfortable in one, she eyed the sarongs. Then as she gazed at the items, she saw something on a rack that caught her eye.

“Let me buy it for you,” Joe said from directly behind her. “I want you to have something to remember today by. Do you have a charm bracelet?” He reached over and picked up the sterling silver charm that looked so out of place surround by cheap plastic and costume jewelry.

“Actually…I don’t,” she admitted, shyly.

“Well, then we’ll get you one of those, too.” He waved to the girl behind the counter who came right over. “I need to see…that one!” And he pointed out a sterling silver bracelet that looked like it would easily accommodate many charms. After paying for it, he carried it out to the truck, assembled it, and fastened it around her wrist. “What do you think?”

To some it would look ridiculous. She was wearing a charm bracelet with a single charm. Yet, to Marti, this was already a prized possession, a symbol of hope for a better future. The one simple charm he had chosen was a shell. She fingered it happily as he drove them back to New Hope. “Thank you. I love it.” She looked out the window, enjoying the lights coming on now that the sun had officially set. “I can’t believe we drove to Myrtle Beach to walk the beach at sunset.” She leaned back and let out a soft blissful sigh.

“And to get fries. Don’t forget the fries.”

“Yes, fries,” she murmured, as she closed her eyes and rested once more.



Marti felt refreshed and rejuvenated when she woke up the next morning. She touched her left wrist and smiled when her finger tips touched the charm bracelet. Today, she would start working on the house in earnest. There was so much to do, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, she felt invigorated and excited. She couldn’t imagine a single thing that would ruin her day.

She had showered and dressed. She had eaten and driven over to the house. She was just about to pull out her list and see what they were going to tackle first when her phone rang. It was Blaine. And she was more than a little surprised to hear from him after the way their last conversation ended.

“Yes,” she said in clipped tone.

“I’m cutting you off,” he said unapologetically.

“What? I don’t understand. What does that mean?” She could feel a panic rising in her that she hadn’t experienced before.

“My lawyer has advised me to change the bank accounts. Whatever money you have left, that’s the money you have until we finalize the divorce.”

It was silent on the other end, but for the rhythmic sound of him breathing. She marveled over it. He wasn’t even breathing hard. She had been a kept woman their entire marriage, unable to keep a job because everything was about him and for him, and now this. She refused to let him see how scared she was. It was more than that. She was angry, furious even. He was trying to hold her hostage with money. Though he hadn’t said that, it was in fact, implied. Behave and she would be taken care of. Toe the line and she would be fine. Buck and he would hurt her every way he could, and few ways were more effective than by threatening poverty.

“That’s fine,” she finally replied, making sure to keep her voice even, to act ambivalent, unaffected. “Well, the contractor is here, so I’ll let you go.” And without saying a proper goodbye, she hung up.

The weight of his words jarred her like a wrecking ball. “And the hits just keep coming,” she muttered as she walked in through the back door.

There were some tools scattered about the house. Clearly, New Hope was the kind of place that the crew didn’t have to worry about anything being stolen. That gave her some degree of comfort. And then she saw it. Over leaned against the door frame heading towards the hall was a sledge hammer.

Smiling, she walked over to it. If Blaine was here, she’d probably knock his block off. Instead…she hefted it. She took a few practice swings. She wanted to break something. There had to be something in this house that she could safely demo and work through her anger. And as she turned toward the sun streaming through the windows, there it was: the bathroom. She knew the plan was for a complete overhaul anyway. That was what she would do, starting now. She dragged the sledge hammer behind her.

The toilet had been removed. There was a cap covering the opening. The sink had been removed already and that god awful medicine cabinet with the mirrored front. She had imagined hitting that and shattering it into a million tiny pieces. In her mind, it was very satisfying. In reality it wasn’t going to happen. There wasn’t much left in the room at all, except for the tile.

She glanced at the hammer, then the tile, shrugged, and started swinging. The tile made a lovely high pitched sound as it shattered. The shards flew about the room, ricocheting off the walls and door before landing on the floor. And because that first swing felt so good, she just kept swinging. Each times the sledge hammer connected with the tiles, she would think of what her marriage had been like. She would recall an incident, or a conversation, or any one of a thousand reasons that she should have dumped him, should have ended the marriage years ago. It felt good. Maybe even great. And then she looked down and saw red. Literally. There were blood droplets all over. Before she could even ponder why the room was looking like a crime scene, the wooden handle was ripped from her hands.

“What are you doing?” He sounded incredulous. And annoyed.

“You’re a contractor? What does it look like I’m doing?” She was upset that he had interrupted her impromptu therapy session.

Shaking his head, Joe grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. “I know demo and that wasn’t it.”

She growled. “I wasn’t done yet!”

“You, babe? You are finished.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he covered it. With his mouth.

Shocked, she stood there with her eyes wide open. His mouth was pressed against hers. And it didn’t feel wrong at all. Without thinking, she melted into him, wrapped an arm around his neck, and allowed her eyes to slowly flutter shut. Joe bent slightly and scooped her up and held her against his muscular chest. His lips pulled back, but his forehead was pressed against hers. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her.

“Crazy woman,” he muttered to himself as he carried her out the back door of the house. She couldn’t be certain, but it seems like she would have been carried farther if he hadn’t heard the sound of others talking in the front yard.

Slowly he lowered her to the ground and made sure she had her footing before releasing her. She wanted to smile up at him, but she hadn’t decided what to make of that moment. All she could do was look at him and murmur…”Why?”

“I needed to distract you,” he responded with a shrug. And with that he turned and walked away.

She formed fists at her sides. That man. He had tricked her. And she had fallen for it. She felt like a fool. Laurel was right to warn her. She started to storm off, to head back to Hope House, to run to the pharmacy for Bandaids and antiseptic, to be anywhere but near him. She glanced at her hands, dripping with blood from many tiny slices made from flying tiles. They didn’t hurt, but they looked so ugly. She was just about to get into her Vue when he grabbed her.

“Where are you going?” He asked jovially.

She wanted to be angry, but that would just let him know that he had gotten to her. And that was something she could never allow. “Just heading out to clean up. My hands are a mess.” She held them up to demonstrate.

“Yeah, I figure I’m covered with your blood, too. He reached behind his head to feel the back of his neck. Then he examined his fingers. Yup. Great.” He turned to the crew. “I’ll be right back.”

And with that, he grabbed her hand and led her across the road to his house. The door was unlocked, which didn’t surprise her since he was close to home. He probably let the guys use his bathroom, too. After all, it wasn’t as though she had one they could access…especially now.

Joe gave her the world’s fastest tour ever. He dragged her through the front door, through the great room, down the hall and brought her directly to the bathroom off the master bedroom. From everything she had seen so far, the bedroom was not unlike the rest of the house.

“I didn’t see a computer,” she noted in surprise.

“That’s because I don’t have a computer.” He busied himself pulling supplies out from under the bathroom sink while she chattered away.

“I don’t understand how anyone can get along these days without one.” She shrugged.

“What do I need a computer for? I have this mini one here on my hip.” He pointed to his iPhone.

She took a moment to rattle off any number of things he might need a computer for, not limited to printing invoices, which she would need for the house and her taxes. To each reason, he shook his head.

“Computers are a hassle. They are always getting viruses and needing repair. I doubt I’ll ever buy one again.” He had started washing her hands at this point and she was surprised with how gentle he was.

With a twinkle in her eye, she retorted, “You wouldn’t have this problem if you’d lay off the porn sites.”

He colored and stood up to look at her. “What makes you think that was the problem?”

“Wild guess. The blush confirmed it.” She chuckled. It was funny when he did it. They weren’t together. Blaine, however, had not found her to be so forgiving. And soon after her complaint about how he was spending the money in the joint bank account, he had opened a private one that she didn’t have access to. There was never any question as to whether or not the two were connected. Why did she stay? She had been asking herself that question all day…maybe for days…or months…or years. And in the end she knew it was because she thought being lonely was superior to being alone. She thought that being married meant having a family and she desperately wanted one of those. She had tolerated everything in the hope that they would have a child to fill the void in her heart. She sighed.

“Oh, you don’t approve of porn?” He asked with a tone that suggested he was more than a bit annoyed.

“What do I care? I’m not dating you.” And with that, she turned her head to examine the bedroom.

It was a bland room with cream colored walls and a bed that looked completely unappealing. There were two pillows in white pillow cases, and a gray duvet cover on the bed.

“Where’s the feather bed?” She asked out loud without considering that it was even inappropriate.

“What?” She could tell he was somewhat confused by the question.

“Oh, your bed just looks…I don’t know, I just thought that someone with your reputation for being such a ladies man would have a fancier bedroom.” She stared him boldly in the face.

“What makes you think that?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest while he waited for her response.

“I hear things,” she said with a shrug.

And with that, the conversation was dropped. He helped her clean up. Once the bleeding stopped, she could see that it was just as she suspected that she really didn’t even need a bandage.

“No more demo.” He reprimanded.

“Fine,” she said, stomping out of the bathroom. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“What do you mean? Go shopping. Go have a late breakfast. Go play in the street. I don’t care; just get off my job site. You are a hazard and a menace.”

“Do you talk to all your homeowners this way?” Her hands were on her hips and her voice was raised. “This is my house. And I’m paying you and your crew to do a job. I am literally hemorrhaging money, staying at Hope House. I just want some kind of normal. I want running water and a roof over my head. I want a working toilet. I want to move in before I lose my nerve.” She sank down on the edge of his bed. “Although I don’t know where I would go anymore anyway.” She sighed. “Give me a time frame, Joe. Give me something. Right now…I need something to hold onto.”

She was looking up at him with those sad chocolate brown eyes and it was melting his heart. He knew she didn’t mean to be in the way. He knew she had something going on that she wasn’t ready to talk about. And he knew that without a home or friends or a job, New Hope could be a pretty lonely place. He knew because he had experienced it himself when he first moved into his father’s house.

He hadn’t always fit in. She was adapting much better than he had. She had Keely and apparently Laurel. And he had moved into a home that had essentially been the home of the local recluse. After his third marriage went belly up, his father had opted to stay away from people. He didn’t speak to his neighbors. He didn’t give out candy at Halloween. He didn’t decorate for holidays or participate in the town activities. When Joe moved in, the quiet was a welcome change from the life he had in Charlotte. Instead of women knocking at all hours of the day and night and an endless string of weekend parties, he stayed in. He cleaned out. He sold what was salvageable and threw out the rest.

Soon he discovered that he was living in the shell of a house and felt like a shell of a man. That emptiness that settled in when he had finally walked away from Finn…it still hadn’t gone. Sure, he had tried to fill it with other women. And that helped him forget in the moment, but when it was over, when he was alone once more, he felt worse than before. Now he looked down at Marti, sitting on his bed. He was used to that being the only invitation he needed, but he could never…never with her. They would have to overcome their loneliness some other way.

“Let’s see what the plumber and the electrician say. They may need days. And as soon as that’s done, we’ll get at least the downstairs bathroom done. We’ll have water and electric in the kitchen. We’ll make it livable. I’m thinking that you can move in a week from now. The house won’t be finished, but you will have your space again.” He squatted before her and gazed at her face. She was avoiding eye contact, but he wasn’t going to give her that option. He lifted her chin, forced her to look at him. “Got it? A week. Maybe less if you stay out from under foot and stop getting into trouble.”

She smirked a little. He wasn’t trying to hurt her. He was almost gentle and playful. “I’ll try. I just need something to do. I’m so bored.”

He looked at his phone. It was only late morning. “What if we go to Charlotte and pick what you want for the bathroom and kitchen? Will that keep you busy enough for today?”

Nodding happily, she smiled as they walked out of the house and headed for his truck. He paused and spoke to the crew. And then they went on the most expensive shopping trip either one of them could ever remember.



The next day, Marti skulked around Hope House for as long as she could stand it. She had promised not to go to the house until he gave her approval. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen for a while. Finally, by lunch time, she couldn’t do it any longer. She left the grounds and went for a walk. Soon enough she found herself on Main Street. And then it was just a few steps to Laurel’s. She could almost taste the cupcake she was going to have after lunch.

“Hey, Marti!” Laurel called from the kitchen. “Whatcha want today?”

After glancing at the menu, she knew it was going to be French Onion soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. She walked over to her usual seat and only enjoyed a few moments of peace, reading a book on her iPhone when the chair across from her was pulled out.

She looked up, expecting to find Laurel, instead Joe was scowling at her. She merely groaned and turned her attention back to the book. It was a love story. When Marti realized that might be the only way she had to escape from her own loveless relationship years ago, she had turned to romance novels. She devoured them…just about any version of them, but especially paranormal. The more she had to dream and imagine the better. She had just about settled into a Christine Feehan novel…how she loved those Carpathians…when he was peering over the edge of her iPhone, trying to see what she was reading.

“What?” She asked without even trying to hide the irritation in her voice. She was banished from her house and he was walking around without an ounce of guilt.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing.” He leaned back in his chair and suddenly remembered that they were always being watched. He’d have to start carrying his own Texas Pete if he wasn’t careful. “Honestly, you could try being nice.”

She glared at him. “I could try being nice? You kicked me out of my house.”

“You keep messing everything up and slowing us down!” He leaned over the table at her.

“Yeah, well, it’s my house!” She crossed her arms over her chest like she had seen him do so many times and leaned toward him, too. Suddenly, he licked his lips. She flew back in her seat. She still remembered that kiss. She didn’t want to, either. Nope. She’d rather have a repeat performance. She sighed.

“Backing down? Good.” He leaned back with a self-satisfied look.

She set her phone down and said honestly, “I’m just bored. I have nothing to do. And I want to have the pride that comes from being able to show people around the house one day and say, ‘yup, I laid that tile, and I painted that wall.’ Only because of you, I can’t do that.”

He threw his hands up in the air. “I give up. You want to lay tile?” A smile spread across her face. “Fine. We will lay tile. We will even lay tile tonight if you’d like. I can’t have you there during the day distracting the guys. Meet me later.”

She smiled and picked up her phone. “I guess you aren’t as sick of me as you thought.”

He glanced over and saw Laurel eyeing them. His hot sauce was on the line. He could feel it. And he wouldn’t be able to even buy a cookie again if he wasn’t careful. Still, he refused to let her think that he missed her. “Are you insane? Today was pleasant. It was wonderful. There was no drama. I was able to go to work and relax for the first time since you came to town. In a perfect world, I’d have been able to enjoy a nice quiet lunch, too, but instead…you’re like kudzu!”

“The website?” She asked, confused.

“There’s a website?” He shook his head. “NO, not the website. Kudzu the plant. Why would I know about a website?”

She shrugged. “Good point. It isn’t porn.” She started to turn her attention back to her reading when a thought occurred to her. “So, what’s kudzu?”

“It’s this weed, this deceptively attractive weed.” He was breathing harder from frustration.

“Oh, so I’m deceptively attractive.” And she smirked and looked down again.

He grabbed his head in frustration. She had to be doing this on purpose. It was hard to believe that upsetting him this much simply came naturally to her. “No, the thing about kudzu is that it looks beautiful…”

She smirked. “I think we covered that part.”

“You aren’t letting me finish!” He nearly growled. And the more upset he was the happier it made her.

“Carry on. I think you left off at beautiful weed…”

He made a motion like he wanted to choke her when Laurel brought their food over. She raised an eyebrow at him in warning. “And that is how you choke a chicken,” he said as he dropped his hands. Laurel gave him five packets of Texas Pete. He looked at them. He looked at Laurel. “Now what am I supposed to do with this? Really? No bottle?”

She leaned to within an inch of his face and said seriously. “You are lucky we had fries. We were almost out of those, too.” Then she turned on her heels and stomped back to the kitchen.

Marti laughed and took a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich. “Kudzu?” She asked with a giggle.

“It chokes everything else out,” he said quietly. “It looks cool and then it kills the trees, the grass, and all the other vegetation. They can’t get any sunlight. And they just…die.” He picked up a cold and crusty chicken finger. “Really?”

“So, I’m stealing your sun?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, you’re choking me out. You’re killing me.” He pushed the basket away from him. There weren’t even close to enough Texas Pete packets to make that meal edible. He stood and grabbed for his wallet, threw some money on the table and started to walk away.

“See you tonight for tiling?” She asked as he sulked past her.

He paused. It was like she had heard nothing he had said. And then he saw the smile on her face. She knew what she was doing. He might just hate her. “Fine,” he said quietly.

“No lunch?” She asked as she savored every bite of the thick slabs of homemade bread cooked to golden brown melted cheesy perfection.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” he said simply and then left.