Until Winter Breaks

  His phone rang, and his cousin’s face came up on the display. Anxiety shot through Jared, and he declined the call from Tripp. He’d taken over Jared’s father’s business, and Jared had managed to avoid Tripp at Sophie’s wedding. He wasn’t interested in seeing how Tripp had merged the boat construction business with a fishing enterprise and a tourism opportunity. It represented everything Jared had failed to do.

  He set his phone on silent, ignored the voicemail message, and went to bed.

  Early the next morning, he sat on the front porch watching the waves roll in down the beach. He had no idea what time Millie would go into work, and he didn’t want to miss her. When he saw her car backing out of the driveway, he loped toward her.

  She almost ran him over before she noticed him. He gestured for her to roll down her window. She complied, but only gave him three inches, like he might reach through the window and throttle her.

  He couldn’t help the upward tug against his mouth. “Can I ride with you?” he asked. “I need to go to the hardware store and get some things that I can’t transport home on my bike.” He waved to her front yard, where her bushes and trees had been ravaged. “I’ll do your yard too, as payment.”

  She didn’t even look toward her dilapidated yard. “I don’t need your help with my yard.”

  “Yes, you do, sweetheart.” He ran around the back of the car so she couldn’t leave without hitting him. He swept open the door and settled into the passenger seat. “I can trim everything up in no time. You do realize that tree is almost split in half, right?”

  She harrumphed, which he took as permission to do her yard work.

  “You don’t have to be so happy about it,” he said. “Do you have a lot of men offering their services?”

  “Enough,” she said, her voice tight. “And I don’t want or need your services.”

  Jared chuckled. “I think you do, Miss Larsen. Don’t worry, I’ll get you fixed right up.”

  “Just the roof,” she said.

  “And the yard,” he added.

  “Fine. And the yard.”

  “And then we’ll see what else.”

  “There won’t be anything else.” She shot him a glare.

  “Are you sure?” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m a great—”

  “Do not finish that sentence,” she spat. “And if you touch me again, I’ll break your fingers.”

  Adrenaline poured through Jared in waves. “You know how to break fingers?”

  “In a single motion,” she said, deadly serious. “Try me.”

  “I’d like to try you,” he said, reaching his hand toward her knee.

  She snarled, accelerated, and pulled to the side of the road. “Get out.”

  “I was just teasin’, sweetheart.”

  “I am not your sweetheart,” she growled. “Now get out.”

  Jared got out, watching as Millie tore off down the road. The rational side of him knew he’d gone too far, pushed too hard. The irrational side wanted to try again, maybe see if some of her passion would develop into something that would be more fun for both of them.

  As he walked to town, he recalled his thoughts. He was thinking like the Jared Newton he’d been when he last lived in Redwood Bay. He wasn’t that person anymore, that hothead with all the right ideas, who got girls simply by smiling at them and then ignoring them for a day or two. He’d been able to reinvent himself in Denver, but he’d let that person disappear on the drive to the coast, because he didn’t like the Jared Newton of Denver any more than he’d liked himself as a teenager in Redwood Bay.

  He arrived at Millie’s shop angry at himself for saying the wrong things and coming across as that arrogant fool he’d left behind fifteen years ago.

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted from the doorway of her shop. She stood at the counter, as if she was open and a customer would come in that day.

  She gave him a wary glance and went back to the open notebook on the counter in front of her. He took it as a sign that he could enter.

  “Really,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I hardly know you, and I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot.”

  She leaned on her elbows and studied him. “Are you doing your lawyer trickery on me?”

  “Who told you I was a lawyer?”

  “Word gets around this town really fast. I’ve had two people in here asking about you already.”

  “Who?” Jared asked, thinking maybe he could find a job in this speck of a city if he knew the right people.

  “Women,” Millie said dryly as she rolled her eyes.

  Jared blinked, unsure of how to respond. “I’ll get started on your roof.”

  “What are you doing here, Jared?”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “In Redwood Bay. How long are you planning to stay?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I needed to—I mean, I’m in between jobs right now. If you know anyone who’s hiring, I’m interested.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re looking for jobs?”

  “Not today,” he said. “Today, I’m going to fix your roof.” He moved past her and down the hall.

  “But you think you’ll be in town long enough to get a job? That sounds…permanent.”

  “You really don’t sound happy about anything I do,” he said, suddenly weary from interacting with this woman. “Why do you care?”

  “You live next door to me.” She followed him. “I’m wondering how long I’m going to have to babysit you.”

  “Babysit me?” He turned and stepped closer to her, invading her personal space. “I don’t need a babysitter, sweetheart.”

  “You can’t even get tools home from the hardware store.”

  “That’s because some stubborn woman couldn’t take a joke.” He stalked away from her, in disbelief that he had apologized to her. She should be apologizing to him. After all, he’s the one who had to walk two miles to fix her roof.

  He strapped on his tool belt and moved several packages of roof tiles and a few slabs of lumber closer to the building. When he returned to the shop to get the ladder, Millie was nowhere to be seen. Relieved, he got the ladder set up and the equipment up on the roof in a matter of minutes.

  Jared hadn’t fixed a roof in a while. He’d worked construction when he first moved to Denver, because the industry paid well and his boss was the man who had provided him with a bedroom and three square meals a day. Six years later, Jared had worked on nearly every domestic construction project—roofing included—and graduated with a Bachelor’s degree. He got a desk job to put himself through law school, but swinging a hammer was like riding a bike.

  The view of the damage from the roof was ten times as bad as the one from inside the shop. He surveyed the shredded tar paper, the warped wood, and the rusted nails. Millie would need more supplies than had been donated. Because he didn’t want to talk to her right then—especially to give her bad news—he started on the front of the building, where the showroom was.

  Though it was only February, the sun beat down relentlessly on Jared’s shoulders as he worked. He never would’ve guessed the repairs he was making were caused by a gale only two days before. His stomach rumbled when the sun shone directly overhead, and he descended from the roof. He paused outside the shop, half-considering asking Millie if she wanted lunch.

  The teenage Jared would’ve had his feelings hurt and held a grudge for a decade. He’d tried to leave that guy behind and become a responsible, hard-working man. Bitterness slipped through him as he remembered how that had turned out for him. Blamed for something he didn’t do, fired, and left to his own devices.

  He rolled his shoulders, still thinking through his options. He hadn’t done much manual labor since joining Hawkins, Cloward, and Sinister five years ago. Sitting at a desk and arguing in court weren’t what had kept him in great shape.

  “Millie?” He stalled in the doorway, hoping she’d poke her head out of her sewing room. When she didn’t
, he added, “You want lunch?” An inspection of her sewing room revealed emptiness. The front of the shop was likewise vacant. Her purse sat behind the counter, and Jared reached for it. He hesitated, instead drawn to a picture of Millie getting cozy with a dark-haired man. They both looked beyond happy, and Jared would never have guessed that she could smile and exude that much joy.

  “Enjoying the view?”

  He spun to find Millie standing behind him, her arms tightly crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. He reset the picture on the counter, unsure of when he’d picked it up. “I just came in to see if you wanted lunch.”

  She held up a bakery bag. “Already done.”

  Jared’s stomach flipped—with hunger. Definitely only because of that. Not because Millie looked windswept, with her chocolate-colored hair flowing over her bare shoulders. Not because the tight T-shirt she wore accentuated her curves, or because the leggings made her legs seem twice as long as normal.

  “I didn’t know what you wanted,” she said, setting the bag on the counter right in front of the picture. “I got you ham and cheese. Diana has a fabulous lunch menu, with the best croissants in town.” She pulled over two stools and sat on one while Jared took the other.

  Jared wasn’t sure if her tone was naturally icy or if she reserved it specifically for him. “Better than Lucy?”

  “Lucy is a genius with food, not baked goods.” Millie pulled out a fruit tart. “In fact, she orders all her bread from Diana.”

  “Sounds like I need to make friends with Diana.” Jared unwrapped his sandwich.

  “You stay away from her.” Millie stabbed one of her blood-red fingernails toward Jared, causing him to lean away.

  “Whoa,” he said. “I’m not going to go in with a knife or anything.”

  She narrowed her eyes like she didn’t believe him. “She just broke up with her boyfriend, and the last thing she needs is…is….”

  Jared quirked one eyebrow, waiting for her to finish her assessment of him. “Go on.”

  “Someone who could hurt her.”

  Jared took deliberate seconds to put down his sandwich. “You don’t know anything about me,” he said calmly. “How do you know I’d hurt her?”

  She feigned nonchalance by picking at her nail beds. “You ride a motorcycle.”

  “So that makes me a bad guy?” He sat back and folded his arms.

  “The black leather jacket doesn’t help,” she said. “Or the daredevil surfing during a gale. Or—”

  Jared stopped her with an all-out laugh.

  “What?”

  “First off, the gale hadn’t started yet. Second, I only bought that jacket so I could survive the cross-country trip from Denver in freezing conditions. Third, the only transportation I could afford after getting fired from my law firm was that motorcycle.” He stood up, abandoning his sandwich. “But thanks for judging me before you even know my last name.” He strode away from her, removing his tool belt and tossing it by the back door as he left.

  “I know your last name,” she called after him, and Jared felt pulled back to her, his attraction to Millie crackling like lightning. He forced his footsteps in the opposite direction, because he liked his fingers whole, thank you very much.

  He stomped through town for a few blocks, deliberately ignoring Diana’s bakery and Lucy’s diner. He couldn’t stand seeing the gossips, the locals, all of whom knew why and how he’d left town and obviously told everyone who didn’t.

  He couldn’t believe he even wanted to touch Millie, or talk to her again, or find out who she’d snuggled up with in that picture. As he bought a microwavable dinner at the grocer, he realized that everything in Redwood Bay was just as messed up as it had been fifteen years ago. He hated it as much now as he had then.

  * * *

  Millie only stayed at the dress shop for a few minutes after Jared left. She’d lost her appetite, and though she’d opened the shop because she loved sewing, the thought of sitting behind a threaded machine sent a murder of crows rioting in her chest.

  Fighting her attraction to the bad boy Jared Newton was proving harder than Millie had suspected. But she couldn’t afford to trust him with her heart. He was the kind of guy who would go off on a cliff diving trip and never come home. The search and rescue team would find his body tangled with rope in a crevice they couldn’t traverse without specialized equipment, and she’d be weeping over the body of another man she had loved.

  No, she couldn’t even allow herself to get to know Jared. She didn’t want to know why he’d lost his job. Didn’t care why he’d come back to Redwood Bay after fifteen years away.

  She told herself these things as she drove home. She scanned the road for Jared, half-hoping she could pull over and pick him up. She didn’t have to like him to be civil.

  Another lie.

  But she didn’t see him on the way home. His house looked empty, and she hurried around the fence and onto the front porch, where she deposited the sandwich she’d bought for him. He hadn’t even taken a single bite, though she didn’t blame him. She’d practically commanded him to leave Diana alone and then accused him of hurting every female he’d ever known.

  She raised her fist to knock, but decided better of it. She set the sandwich on the bench and scurried back to her place.

  An hour later, she heard the slamming of car doors and distant male voices, but resisted the urge to spy on who had brought Jared home. She told herself over and over that she didn’t care. That she didn’t need to apologize to a man who swaggered around town like he owned the place.

  She stayed in the kitchen, even going so far as to turn up the volume on her Internet radio. Sadie and Diana were coming over for appetizers and cocktails, and Millie set to work on the artichoke dip and cheese fondue.

  But she couldn’t mistake the buzzing sound of a saw—coming from her front yard. Millie abandoned the gruyere, practically sprinting to the window seat. Sure enough, Jared had invaded her property, chainsaw in hand. A tree trimmer sat at the edge of the yard, along with a rental truck and trailer from Taylor’s hardware store.

  Taylor himself emerged from the other side of the truck, wearing a hard hat and a sturdy pair of work gloves. Jared went au natural, a fact which caused Millie’s heart to tumble in her chest like laundry in a dryer.

  Why was he doing her yard work? After what she’d said to him, she hadn’t expected to speak to him again.

  Sadie pulled into Millie’s driveway, stopping to chat with Jared and Taylor on her way to the door.

  Millie whipped it open. “Get in here,” she hissed, as if Jared could hear her over the roar of the chainsaw. She hid behind the door while Sadie entered.

  “What’s with you?” her friend asked.

  “Nothing.” Millie moved quickly back into the kitchen. “I just need a few more minutes for the cheese fondue.”

  “Diana is bringing the leftover challah,” Sadie said. “She also said she had some brioche.”

  “Perfect,” Millie said, stirring the dip and opening the bag of chips to go with it.

  “So Jared Newton is your lawn boy now?” Sadie grabbed an olive from the antipasto platter. “Too bad you don’t have a pool….” She popped the olive into her mouth, her expression anything but innocent.

  “Sadie—” Millie shook her head, unsure how to continue. Her friends knew she’d been married before. And widowed. What they didn’t know was that she hadn’t healed and couldn’t trust herself to fall in love again.

  All the feelings scrambling through her as she minced mint and they spoke of starting something with the dangerous Jared Newton, and she suspected that he’d leave her heart with more scars than it already had.

  Knocking sounded on the door, and Millie sent Sadie to get it. “It’s for you,” her friend said, her tone gleeful. “It’s your pool boy.”

  “I can’t leave the fondue.”

  “I’ll do it.” Sadie took the wooden spoon from Millie as her traitorous heart tripped over itself.

/>   Somehow her legs managed to get her to the front door. “What do you want?” She cringed at the brusqueness in her voice. “I mean––thank you for taking care of my trees.”

  He pushed his hair off his forehead and exhaled. He glanced over his shoulders and turned back when Taylor gestured for him to get on with it.

  “Taylor says your trees have some disease and he has the spray you need for it at the hardware store. He says we can go get it now, if you’d like.”

  If she’d like? She knew what she’d like, and it had nothing to do with tree spray and everything to do with the man who’d be applying it.

  “It’s expensive,” Jared continued. “And, uh, well, I didn’t tell you this earlier, but your roof has way more damage than you thought. You’ll need twice as many supplies as were donated.” He shuffled backward. “So, uh, well, I don’t know what your finances are like, but that’s gonna cost a fair bit.”

  “I can cover it,” she said coolly, trying to ignore the taut line of attraction drawing her toward him.

  “You having a party?” He peered into the house, his gaze searching over her shoulder.

  “Just the girls.”

  He settled back onto his heels and drank her in. Millie had the strangest urge to duck her head, tuck her hair, and smile coyly. But she hadn’t been a teenager—or a twenty-something—for a few years now.

  “Look,” she started just as he said, “How about you come with me to get what we need for your yard, and your shop?”

  Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. “Like a date?”

  He leaned even closer, his fingers coming up as if to tuck that lock of hair for her. He seemed to remember her threat to break his fingers, because he dropped his hand quickly. He didn’t move away as he said, “Not a date. Just a…party of two.”

  “Mills, the fondue is done.”

  Millie breathed a sigh of relief as she glanced at Sadie, noticing that she’d dyed her hair a dark shade of purple. She hadn’t even seen it in her distress over Jared, which shot a sting of anger through her. She turned back to Jared, intending to put him off.