Finn's Fantasy (Maine Men #1) - K.C. Wells Page 0,25

this done in time for the summer.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay preparing the site? I’d do it, but we’re only talking evenings and weekends when I’d be available. It’ll save time in the long run.”

Joel nodded. “I might rope in my kids one weekend.” His face tightened for a moment, and something flashed across those blue eyes. Something that looked an awful lot like pain.

What’s hurting you, Joel?

As quickly as the thought flitted through his mind, another was hot on its heels. Don’t get involved. It’s none of your business.

Finn replaced his pen in his pocket. “About using the Sawzall…”

“I know I’ve never handled one, but how difficult could it be?”

Finn bit his lip. Out of the mouths of babes… “I’ll show you how to use it when I bring it over. But if you do get your kids to help out, keep it out of their reach?” He smiled. “They look like they’re sensible kids.”

Joel blinked, his brow furrowing. “But how—” Then his forehead smoothed out, and his eyes twinkled. “You saw them, when we walked past. That day you were cleaning your truck.”

The fact that Joel remembered only added more fuel to the fire.

Seems as though I wasn’t the only one looking.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” Joel said suddenly. “You must want to get home for your dinner. I’ll call when things are settled.” He extended his hand, and Finn shook it. “Thanks for coming over. You’ve gotten me excited about the prospect. I can’t wait to get started.”

Neither could Finn, but for very different reasons.

Joel walked him through the gate that led to the side of the house, and up to his truck. He stood in the driveway while Finn backed out onto the road, checking his mirrors for traffic. He gave Joel a final wave, then pulled away.

Joel was a mystery, one that Finn was dying to unravel, no matter what his head told him.

I want to learn more about him.

Once he started installing Joel’s new deck, Finn might have the chance to do just that.

Chapter Seven

Joel poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat in the rocking chair. From his bed, Bramble raised his head and peered in his direction, then lowered it and closed his eyes. Joel gazed at the living room, mentally placing his possessions around it. He’d put a lot of things into storage when he’d first moved out, and now that he finally had a home it was time to think about reclaiming them. Carrie had his vinyl collection, not to mention the turntable that had belonged to his dad. There was no way Joel could ever think of parting with it: his dad had given it to him when Joel had left for college. Nate had teased him about it, offering to convert all his vinyl records into a digital format. Joel accepted his offer, knowing when Nate was done, he would still listen to his favorite music in its original form.

There were prints too, that he’d acquired over the years. Right then they were wrapped in sheets and standing in Carrie’s garage. Joel assessed how much wall space he’d have. Enough for a few of them.

He picked up his phone from the top of the bookcase and scrolled through to Carrie’s number. “Hey. Okay to talk?”

“Definitely. Your daughter is driving me nuts.”

“I notice she’s always my daughter when she’s being problematic, but yours when she gets amazing grades at school,” he teased. “What’s she doing now?”

“She wanted help with her science homework. You know, the stuff I was never any good at, so I always steered her in your direction?” Carrie let out a sigh. “Is it okay to say I miss you right now?”

“I missed you too this morning,” he confessed.

“You did?”

“Yeah. You always could cook eggs better than me.”

She laughed. “Thanks for that. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been thinking about retrieving some of my stuff from storage, now I have a roof to call my own.” Not that he’d had it all that long—one week, in fact—but he was itching to put his mark on the place.

“Ooh, I like the sound of this. Especially if it means I get more space around here. I’ll bring you a carload this weekend.”

“Hey, not so fast,” he said, laughing. “Can I at least give the place a lick of paint before you do that?”

“I suppose,” Carrie said with obvious feigned reluctance. “Let me know what you want.”

“Actually, a visit this weekend might be a good idea. I’m