He laughed, because even though she was playing prickly with him, she was also teasing him, and that was a welcome change. “No, I came to literally fix your literal floorboard. The one that you said you keep stubbing your toe on.”
Her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open into a perfect O.
“What? I can be nice. See, I’m being nice. Also, I listen.”
“You do,” she said, looking slightly surprised that she agreed with his statement.
She looked a little bit worried when he walked toward the back of the store, eyeballing all of the boards as he went.
“It’s over here,” she said, gesturing to a spot behind the counter. “But...”
“You’re afraid somebody’s going to see me here and start asking questions.”
“Yes. Absolutely, that yes.”
“I own the building. Also, that’s not very good for my ego.”
“What?” she spluttered.
“The fact that you are desperately ashamed of us being involved.”
She crossed her arms, then began to pace as he made his way to the offending board and knelt down. “I’m not ashamed. It’s just that we are not really involved. Not on a permanent or even semipermanent basis. We are only doing this until you leave.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Also,” she said, “I do know how to fix a loose board. I just hadn’t gotten around to it.”
Of course she would know how to fix her own board. Rebecca did not strike him as the damsel in distress. In fact, she was aggressively independent. “Maybe that is the point. Maybe the point is that you just need to learn to let someone do something nice for you once in a while. Even if you’re capable of doing it yourself, sometimes you have to let someone do it for you.”
“I disagree. Because then you start needing people.”
Her words made his stomach seize up tight. How long had it been since he’d needed somebody? He couldn’t remember. It was a fine thing for him to lecture her on taking help when he had been no less solitary for all these years.
But he wasn’t the point. She was. And he was fixing the damn board.
He heard the bell over her entry door go off, and he turned just in time to see a very large man who looked to be in his early thirties walk in. “Rebecca?” he asked.
It did not take long for Gage to connect what the relationship was between this man and Rebecca. His skin was darker, his hair a glossy black, but the hard expression in those dark eyes were definitely a Bear family trait. The biggest difference was that he was large enough to kill Gage with one fist.
“Hi,” Rebecca said, too quickly. “Jonathan, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see you. Because I’ve been busy. So I felt bad because we hadn’t managed to connect in a few days. Also, you need to start answering your texts, brat.”
Gage stood up from his position behind the counter, and he immediately caught Jonathan’s attention. He probably could have smoothed the situation over easily, but Rebecca’s face turned bright red, her expression registering intense distress.
Jonathan’s dark eyebrows locked together, and then, he looked over at Gage, studying him intently. “You wouldn’t happen to be Gage West, would you?”
Gage had a feeling that was his polite way of asking if Gage wanted to die today.
“I am,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
He wasn’t going to back down, not now. Of course, he imagined Rebecca would rather that he and Jonathan didn’t have a bar brawl in the middle of her knickknack store, but Gage wasn’t going to start it. He’d damn well finish it if he had to—that was the conclusion he came to then and there.
“What the hell are you doing in my sister’s store?”
“She had a loose floorboard. I came by to fix it.”
“I see, and how do you know about the floorboard?” Jonathan took a step toward him.
“She told me. I didn’t break into the place late at night and start testing for weak spots.”
“Gage,” she said, her voice hushed, “stop.”
Jonathan’s dark eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you throw him out?”
“Jonathan,” she said, “maybe we should talk somewhere else.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“I’m just fixing the floor,” Gage said, because the last thing he wanted to do was cause more trouble for Rebecca.
“No, you’re not just fixing the floor,” she said, then she turned her furious gaze onto Jonathan. “He’s not just fixing the floor. He’s... I’m...we... We’re not exactly dating...”