with Gram’s granddaughter, no matter how strong the pull is between us. Fuck, man, I’m pretty sure I never felt such tension before. It was so damn thick and heavy it made breathing near impossible. Or that could have been the heart palpations. My heart hadn’t raced like that since I kissed Carrie Bell in the closet in eighth grade, during our seven minutes in heaven.
I carry the bucket up the ladder, set it on the top rung and dip the sponge in. I wipe the window and smudge the eggs. Putting a little more manpower behind it, I rub harder, until I make a bit of progress. Once I get it all wiped up, I head back down the ladder to find Kira standing there.
I jump. “Jesus, you scared me.” I glance around, but we’re the only two standing in the cold. “You should be inside,” I say.
“I just…about what happened…” she begins.
I wanted her, still do, but when she blurted out that she was inexperience she might as well have just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. Jesus, she’s so fucking sweet and innocent, and that’s all the more reason for me to keep my distance. “I shouldn’t have started that, Kira.” That same gut-wrenching hurt look crosses her gorgeous face again. “It’s not you. It’s me,” I say.
Lame, Nate. Real fucking lame.
I glance past her shoulder, and Bridgette is coming our way. I gesture with a nod. “Looks like Bridgette got out again. I’ll take her back, save Ellen the trouble.”
She nods, and if I could I’d kick my ass for starting something I shouldn’t have. A raging, painful hard-on for the next month would hurt less than the wounded look in her eyes.
The back door creaks as she heads inside, and I meet Bridgette on her way to Gram’s place. “Hey girl,” I say, and she pushes her head against me. “Time to get you home.”
I turn her around and make my way to the neighbor’s. Jack Veinot is clearing snow from his back deck.
“Jack,” I say as I take Bridgette back to the barn.
“She get out again?” the elderly man asks. He grunts. “Don’t know what I’m going to do with her. Sorry for all the trouble.”
“No trouble at all.”
The back door opens, and the pinging of video games follows Jack’s wife Martha from inside the Veinot home. Guess the grandkids must be over.
“Is she bothering you again?” Martha calls, and tightens her loose hanging sweater around her body.
“I don’t mind. As long as she doesn’t wander to the road, she’ll be fine.” I open the door to the barn and send her in. Ellen lifts her head from the hay she’s eating and rushes up to her mom. I suppose in good time she would have made her way over to collect her, after she finished eating. I close the door, and I’m about to head back when Jack’s voice stops me.
“Heard Kira was back and is selling Margaret’s place,” he said.
Shit, word really does travel fast around these parts. “Yeah, she’s hoping to get it listed soon.”
“Never thought Margaret wanted to sell the place. Far as we knew, she wanted to keep it in the family.”
“I guess the family had other plans,” I say.
“Guess so,” he says, and gives a slow shake of his head. “Folks around these parts aren’t going to like that too much. Margaret would be rolling over in her grave if she knew.”
It does make me wonder about the eggs. Is Kira making enemies? Would someone go so far as to harm her, to drive her out of town? Shit. Worry tightens my gut.
“Someone egged the house,” I say.
Jack arches a brown. “You don’t say. Doesn’t seem like something anyone around here would do.”
“Not at all,” Martha agrees.
“Maybe it was just some kids,” I say, not wanting to think anyone would have done that to Kira deliberately. “I’d better get back,” I say.
Fresh snowflakes fall as I wave goodbye, and by the time I get back to the