Ivey Pierce is an explorer, and thanks to her career as a wildlife biologist, she does not stay stationary for long. But when her parents die in a terrible accident, and her childhood home is left vacant for two years, she returns to the tattered me...
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THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.
My eyes sprung open, and I brushed my hair out of my sleepy face. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, but when they did, I noticed there was no sunlight streaming through the cracks in my blinds. What time was it, and what was that sound? I paused, waiting to hear the noise again.
When one didn't come, my lids fluttered shut, still heavy with morning drowsiness.
Thump, thump, thump.
My body jerked upright, and I grabbed my tee shirt, which found its way off my body from a middle-of-the-night heat stroke. I meandered through the living room, stumbling over my feet, past the kitchen to the wall of windows. The sound had to be coming from outside.
Like a camera trying to focus, my eyes adjusted on the backyard—squinting then growing wide. What the hell? A figure knelt on my dock, almost hidden behind the brush of trees, beating the planks with a hammer. The sound of the metal rang out into the dawn.
I could not see the stranger's face, but from the looks of the terribly tied boat and dog lying at the end of my dock, I assumed it was Weston.
The growing pressure in my chest from the view made me grip the window frame.
Why he was helping me was beyond any answer I had. I didn't think Weston was the type to wake up at five and fix a stranger's dock, but it seems I misjudged him.
He drove you home, too, Ivey. I wondered if he noticed my shift in emotion last night when the cashier spoke about my parents. Unlike the town gossip sessions, my parents' death was the most fascinating thing to happen here, which only meant they continuously exploited it for all it was worth, no matter how gruesome and traumatic it was. I was sure Weston had heard the story by now, and if he hadn't, last night probably raised questions.
Not wanting to scare him off, I took my time waking up, getting dressed, and peeking out the windows every time I passed. He worked his way further and further down the landing. Curiosity nipped at me like claws when I sat at the kitchen island, waiting for my coffee pot to brew.
I pulled my phone out and texted Kate, knowing she'd be awake by now. Neighbor nurse hottie is on my dock.
She replied, Mysterious guy? The one you're not supposed to be distracted by?
Yes. He's distracting me.
Oh, no. What is he doing on your dock?
I glanced out the window and typed, He is fixing it.
Weston leaned back on his heels and fisted a hand through his hair. A high-pitched, faint noise resonated, barely audible through the glass. His dog jumped from the end of the dock and dashed toward Weston's open arms. The white and red-furred friend looked like a gentle giant with short fluffy hair and a droopy face. If I had to guess, it looked like a Saint Bernard, but I didn't know dog breeds well.
