is standing in the corner of her bedroom, eyeing me with big scared eyes.
“Nothing important,” I reassure Lisa, before turning to the little girl. “What happened?” I immediately feel like an ogre when her eyes well up.
“Well?” Lisa prompts her. “Tell Mr. Yuma why the window broke.”
“I throwed my ball.” She points at a softball lying on the ground. “Ezrah throws his ball all the time.”
“Ezrah’s ball is foam, baby—your ball is hard.”
“I didn’t know.” Her bottom lip starts quivering and her face crumples.
“I can fix it,” I quickly announce, not a fan of tears. “I was gonna change out some of these windows anyway. Gonna measure and head to Home Depot.”
It’s not exactly a lie, about changing out the windows. Last year a lot of the units got new sliding doors to the balconies and new windows, but none on this side of the building have been replaced yet. If I’m gonna do one window, I may as well do them all.
Fifteen minutes later, I walk out of twenty-three and look over at twenty-four. Elizabeth Bucco, that’s the name on her lease. Except, she doesn’t strike me as an Elizabeth. It’s too stiff; too formal for the girl-next-door vibe she gives off. Then again, she doesn’t look like a cop either. She seems normal, straightforward, and unlike most women I encounter.
It’s the middle of the day and her truck isn’t here. I already knew that because I watched her drive off early this morning. If I’m not fucking careful, I’m replacing one addiction with another. Her.
And I don’t even know her.
I dial Ouray’s number on my way to my bike.
“Yeah.”
“I need Wapi for the day.”
“For?”
“Getting a start on the rest of those window replacements. Could use a hand.”
It’s quiet for a moment on the other end before he responds.
“Thought you wanted to wait for spring.”
I had told him that a while ago.
“Changed my mind.”
“Anything happen?”
“Nah, just need something for my hands to do.”
“Gotcha. Yeah, I’ll send Wapi.”
“Tell him to meet me at Home Depot with the truck. Headin’ there now.”
I don’t have to wait long for Wapi. He drives up in one of the club trucks five minutes after I park.
“Did you bring tools?” I ask, when he gets out of the truck.
“Yup. Small compressor’s in the back too.”
“Good.”
In the end, we were only able to get three windows and one sliding door, but what I’ll need for the remaining three apartments is ordered from the warehouse and should be delivered tomorrow.
Lisa already left for the club by the time we get to her apartment, and we get to work right away. We’re just putting the second window when I hear Wapi, who’s holding the window in place, whistle softly between his teeth.
“Nice,” he drags out, just as I see her coming up the stairs.
“Watch it,” I growl. “Off-limits.”
I can feel him looking at me, but I’m too busy following her progress. At the last moment, she spots me in her neighbor’s window and throws me a smile and a wave.
“Hold this,” I tell Wapi and take off out the door.
I just catch her before she can close the door behind her.
“Don’t come too close,” she says with an apologetic smile. I automatically take a step back. “I spent the afternoon at a crime scene. I’m pretty sure I smell.”
Yeah, she doesn’t even try to be anything other than she is.
“Quick heads up, we’re upgrading windows in a few units and I’m gonna need to get into yours at some point this week.”
“Okay. Do you need me to be home? My schedule can be—”
“No,” I interrupt. “I’ve got a key.”
“Of course,” she replies, looking a bit flustered, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.
It’s a good look on her: a hint of innocence to contrast the invitation of that generous mouth and the mysteries behind those brown eyes.
I don’t even realize I’m staring at her until she mumbles, “I really should have a shower.”
“Right.” I give myself a shake and force my feet to start moving. “Later.”
I barely hear her response; a mental image of her in the shower has me rush back into the apartment next door.
“Who’s that?” Wapi asks when I walk in.
“New tenant,” I grunt, as I go back to shimming the window in the frame.
“Lucky bastard,” Wapi mumbles under his breath, and I throw a sharp glance his way.
“She’s a cop.” I’m not sure if I’m warning Wapi or myself at this point.
We work in silence after that. Three bedroom windows are done when I call