Chapter 1
She should have picked the beach house in Galveston.
Claire surveyed the mess in front of her. She had initially been excited about it, when Uncle Eddie had left her this house in his will. He had given her the choice between this place and a beach house in Galveston, but she was afraid that the homeowner’s insurance on the Gulf Coast would eat her lunch. Now, she wasn’t so sure. The house itself was beautiful, built in the late-eighteenth century, it would make a great bed and breakfast. Getting it up to code, though, was proving to be a daunting task.
The kitchen? Well, the kitchen had last been remodeled in the 1950s. Claire imagined a woman in a polka dot dress with a lace apron and pearls, lovingly running her hand along the giant enamel stove. It was the same stove every woman had been fantasizing about since Rachel Ray’s television debut, except this one had seen better days. It was rusted, filthy, and totally unusable without a full restoration. And such a restoration was not in her budget.
Claire sighed heavily, and got a trash bag to start filling up.
The kitchen's only blessing was an enormous picture window with the original frame. Unfortunately it lacked the glass, so she tossed her full garbage bag out of it. It was certainly easier than carrying the trash out the back door, down the back porch steps, and all the way around the house. This way, Claire could fill a bag, toss it out the window, and have it halfway to the destination of the curb. Pleased with her innovativeness, she filled another one. And another. About an hour later, She had five garbage bags full of trash outside the house on the ground beneath the kitchen window. She had swept and mopped the floors, wiped out the cabinets and countertops, and almost managed to get rid of the odor of rat pee. She mentally patted herself on her back. Not bad for a morning’s work.
Claire went outside the back door to start carrying the trash around to the curb, wondering what day the garbage was picked up. Walking over to the kitchen window, she grabbed a garbage bag and threw it over her shoulder. She grabbed another one and started dragging it behind her as she walked around the side of the house to the front curb.
Forcing oxygen into her bloodstream, Claire breathed heavily as she carried the trash bags around the house, thinking to herself that maybe she shouldn’t have tried to shove so much into each bag. They were really heavy. When her foot landed on something squishy, she paused and wondered briefly if she had stepped in dog pooh.
As her shin scraped through the pulp of the soggy plywood, and she fell forward, she realized she was falling into a hole that had been covered. Her forward momentum with the added weight of the trash bags, had made the top half of her body land on solid ground when she fell. Unfortunately, the bag she was dragging added to the weight on the bottom half of her body, which was dangling over the hole.
She dropped the garbage bags and grabbed what she could grab. Weeds. Crap. So she yelled. Loudly.
“Help me!!! Please! Somebody, help!”
Usually, when one pulls weeds, they need a shovel and a pick axe to get them out of the dirt. These weeds--which Claire really needed to be sturdy little buggers--were coming out almost as fast as she could grab them.
“Help me!” Claire screamed as if her life depended on it. She realized now, that this was probably an old water well, and she had no idea how deep it could be.
Scrabbling for anything to hold onto, feet dangling in the darkness below her, she tried to swing her legs forward to find something for them to cling to. Her hands grabbed for anything, rocks, grass, roots. Nothing was working. She couldn’t help imagining inside the darkness of the well the Indiana Jones pile of snakes slithering over each other, anxiously awaiting her drop into their midst. Her Converse tennis shoes slipped down the slimy sides of the well that Claire imagined was covered with spiders and their webs and egg sacs. She couldn’t find anything for her hands to grab onto, and she screamed again as she slipped further into the well.
A PIPE! She grabbed a pipe that was sticking out of the ground for some reason and held on tight. She had no idea what purpose this particular piece of pipe held, except that at this moment, it was saving her life. Now if I can just hang on… Her feet slipped again, as they desperately scrambled to find purchase against the slimy wall. It felt like the wall was made of stones, which would make something there for her to grab with her shoe-clad feet, wouldn’t it?
Her hand was hurting, and she tried to hold the pipe with both hands. It wasn’t a big pipe, and since she couldn’t really see what it was connected to, if anything, she didn’t want to grab it with both hands and put all of her eggs in one basket. She tried her best to hold still and not jiggle anything that would make her fall all the way into this well.
Claire’s head and shoulders were still above ground level, but the rest of her body had sunk through the rotten, water-logged plywood that was “covering” this giant hole in the ground. While holding the pipe, she tried to feel around with her other hand to see if any of the rest of the wood was sturdy enough to hold her. No dice. Everything her hand touched, crumbled and fell into the abyss below. Apparently, she grabbed a nest of some sort, because hundreds of tiny spiders crawled around on her hand. She shook them off, while holding on to the pipe with her other hand. Terror filled her veins as she screamed again.
“Hang on, I got you.”
Enormous arms wrapped around her body, under her armpits, and lifted her out of the hole. She looked up at her savior. And up, and up…until her eyes met the caramel colored eyes of…Adonis. He pulled her back out of the hole, tripping over her beloved pipe, and tugged her down with him as they ended up a tangled pile of limbs in the weedy yard.
She had no idea who this magnificent specimen of a man was, but he was her hero, having just saved her from a horrifying death. Well, possibly. If she hadn’t died, she certainly would have been extremely uncomfortable for who knows how long.
“What happened?” His melted, ooey gooey, caramelly eyes oozed concern, as they looked down from his body’s perch atop Claire’s body. Ohmygosh. He’s on top of me. His mouth turned down at the corners, and his hands were still wrapped around her rib cage. She couldn’t answer, her heart was beating too hard. She couldn’t really say if it was because of her brush with certain death, or because she had the most gorgeous man on the planet on top of her. He smelled good, earthy, like grass and man.
Her breath hitched as she looked into that face of his, and the next thing she knew, she was crying like a baby. She hated crying, and the fact that she was doing it in front of this stranger, made her cry even more, much to her own mortification. He climbed off and pulled her into a sitting position next to him, and cradled her head against his concrete chest making shooshing noises, begging her not to cry. What is it about men and crying women? I just almost died. Although, hearing his heart pound in his chest was calming her down quite a bit.
“I didn’t realize I was (hic) walking over that (hic) plywood, and I f-f-fell in.”
“Well, you’re okay now. It’s okay.” His broad hand rubbed up and down her spine in a comforting gesture. It made a warm mushy feeling spread out from the center of her chest down to her thighs. “I have some plywood in my garage. I’ll bring some over and put it over that well until you can have someone come over and fill it in with concrete.” His hand still rubbing her back. Her body still all warm and mushy. His smell still manly, grassy goodness.
Claire looked up at him, their faces were inches away from each other. His eyes looked straight into hers, then his gaze traveled to her lips. Seemingly jealous of the attention that her lips were getting, Claire’s tongue snaked out to moisten the top one. As if recognizing the desire that seemed to be radiating from her pores, he spread his lips slightly, and inhaled sharply. She could smell his toothpaste. His hand cradled her face, and he used his thumb to wipe a tear off her cheek. Then he rubbed his thumb down her jaw line.
“I have plywood…” Claire was having a hard time breathing with this stranger so close to her. Wait a minute… “Who are you?” Claire suddenly realized the compromising position she was in, pressed up next to a complete stranger who was caressing her face.
“My name is Max. I live next door.” His eyes were still locked on her mouth. “What’s your name?”
“C-Claire.” She sniffed, tears still managing to squeeze out of her eyes.
“Shhhh. Claire. It’s okay.” His thumb touched her bottom lip. As if there was an alien entity inside Claire that craved a little Max-snack, her lips opened and took his thumb into her mouth. Then sucked.
Max’s entire body stiffened, his eyes popped open, and his mouth emitted a small exhalation of toothpaste-scented air as Claire sucked on his thumb. As her tongue made little swirly motions around it, his eyes actually darken from gooey caramel, to a melted chocolate color. She closed her eyes and tasted the salty flavor of her tears mixed with his sweat, and then she gasped and spit out his thumb, absolutely mortified at herself for doing it in the first place. What sort of horny sex-demon has possessed me? She jumped up off the ground and started wiping dirt off her shorts.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m a dumb ass. That was gross. I don’t know where your thumb has been. I don’t know you. At all. Ohmygod. Why would you want a dumb ass to suck your thumb? Why would you want anybody to suck your thumb? It’s like a nose and friends! Yuck!” She could feel the blush run up her neck straight to her hairline. Her heart pounded, and she forced air into her lungs as she tried to breathe through her mortification.
As Claire looked at Max, she noticed that he looked like he was suppressing a laugh. His chocolatey eyes were crinkling at the edges. This is at the top of my list of ‘Most Awkward Moments, Ever,’ Claire thought to herself.
“Oh my gosh, is everything okay? I thought I heard screaming.” Claire looked up to see a pixie-like woman come running around from the front of the house, carrying a broom. She had spiky hair dyed platinum blond, and was wearing a very cool, gauzy skirt with a black tank top.
“I’m Summer, from next door, over there.” She jutted her chin toward the other side of Claire’s new house. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…I’m Claire. I just moved in here.” She was now completely mortified. “I fell into an old well, I guess…and, um…Max here, helped me out.” She gestured to the man who was now standing next to her, straight-faced.
Max turned his gaze from Claire to Summer, and Claire saw him look pointedly at her broom. “You going to be flying off on that thing?”
She looked at the broom in her hand, as if just realizing she had carried it over. “I was sweeping my porch off.” She swiped it at Max playfully. “Max is handy to have around.” Summer winked as she held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Claire. Do you need help with anything?”
“Um, no…I think I’ve got this. I’m just carrying trash out. I know now, to avoid this side of the house.” Claire tried to laugh, as if this kind of thing happened every day. Her laugh came out sounding more like a tired wheeze, so she stopped.
“Well, I’m glad to see somebody move in here. It’s been vacant way too long. Holler if you need anything. I’m right next door over there.”
“Okay, thanks.” After Summer left, Claire turned to Max. “That was incredibly awkward. I don’t know what came over me. I’m really sorry.”
He grinned at her good-naturedly. “It’s alright. Anytime you need a thumb to suck, I’ll be next door.” He turned to go, took a few steps, then turned back. “You said you have plywood?”
She nodded, “Yes, I have plenty. I’ve got to board up a couple of windows before the glass guys can make it out to replace them, so I bought extra. You never know what you’re gonna need.” She was anxious for this hunky guy to leave, so she could wallow in her humiliation.
Unfortunately, he seemed to be in the mood to chat. “You’re fixing it up yourself?”
“Um, yeah. What I can. Then I’ll hire out the rest.” She grabbed the trash bags that had made it halfway to the curb. “Well, thanks again for pulling me out. I’ve got stuff to do.” She turned and walked away, effectively putting an end to his chitchat.
The rest of the day, Claire kept herself busy cleaning. This house was a disaster. Since he had no children of his own, Uncle Eddie had given all of the cousins a choice of properties when he made out his will. Because Claire had heard that this property had gold hidden in it somewhere, this was the one she had chosen for herself. When she saw the place, though, she had had second thoughts.
It had potential to be beautiful. Built in the late eighteen hundreds, it was an exquisite specimen of Victorian architecture, with gabled windows, a wrap around porch, and even a turret. However, due to years of Uncle Eddie’s neglect, the house was a complete dump. Having lain vacant for years, teenagers had broken in and partied, effectively trashing the place.
She definitely had her work cut out for herself. But when she did find the gold, she could use it to fix the place up right, and she would be able to open up a bed and breakfast. Until she found the gold, though, she’d have to rely on her own limited resources and skills.
She probably could have asked the hunky neighbor to help her with some of the heavy stuff, but that was before she’d sucked his thumb. Jesus! What had she been thinking? Claire mentally face-palmed herself, cringing again.
She had purposely moved to Serendipity, Texas, because it was a small town, and she didn’t know anybody here, especially men. Claire needed to get away from the male species altogether, but short of becoming a nun, she wasn’t sure how that was possible. After James, Mark, and Tom, she was ready to give up relationships for good.
Now she had to figure out how to live here, while simultaneously avoiding the hot next-door neighbor. Oh well, the one experience she had with him would probably last her for years. It would have to.