steal a glimpse at Wes just as he does the same, his arms extended over his head causing his shirt to ride up and expose the hard planes of his stomach, my mouth grows dry. I do everything to stop my libido from fantasizing about what lies at the end of that trail of hair, but she’s got a mind of her own, especially around Wes.
“You really are shameless,” he comments.
“Just making sure you’re doing it correctly.” I focus straight ahead, my cheeks heating from getting caught ogling him yet again. “Lord knows how much insulation you can lay while wearing those expensive suits of yours.”
“And here I thought you liked how I looked in my expensive suits. At least, that was the impression I got when we first met.”
“I do.” I quickly snap my mouth shut, gathering my convoluted thoughts. “I mean…” I shake my head. “You just didn’t strike me as the type of person who would get your hands dirty, for lack of a better word.”
He steps down from the ladder, moving it around me and sliding it farther along. “That reminds me of something Meemaw would say.”
“Why do I get the feeling your grandparents had words of wisdom for every scenario facing you?” I finish fitting the insulation, then stand, stretching my legs.
“Because they probably did.” He laughs under his breath, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. “Anyway, one thing Meemaw always said was, ‘Before you assume, learn. Before you judge, understand. Before you speak, think.’”
“And now I feel like a total asshole for thinking you were just another hot guy in a nice suit.”
“Oh, I am absolutely more than happy for you to think I’m a hot guy in a nice suit, Londyn. That’s for damn sure.” His eyes flame as a smirk pulls on his lips. “But hopefully as we work together over the next few months, you’ll learn something else about me.”
“What’s that?”
He curves toward me, his breath hot on my neck. “I’m not like anyone you’ve ever met.” He lingers for a moment, then turns from me, stepping up the ladder.
“So tell me…,” he begins, as if his proximity didn’t turn my insides into jelly, “what was it like growing up as a pastor’s daughter?”
I squat, hoping to distract myself from Wes’ proximity by intently focusing on the insulation.
“For most of my childhood, I didn’t realize what my dad did. I mean, I knew what he did. But I didn’t have any of this ridiculous pressure on me to live a certain way because of who my father was. Not until…” I trail off.
“Not until what?”
I pause as I attempt to formulate a response. What can I possibly tell him without giving him all the sordid details of what led me to walk away from the only family I’ve ever known? Did I really walk away? The phrase suggests I had a choice. I don’t feel like I had much choice in the matter. If I did, it was a fool’s choice. Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t.
“If you don’t want to talk about this, we don’t have to.”
“It’s okay.” I slide the blade against the insulation, cutting it to fit into the partition, then stand, handing him the fiberglass. “My mama died when I was seven.”
He steps down from the ladder, his eyes awash with sympathy. “Londyn, I’m sorry. I—”
“My dad did the best he could trying to raise me, but somewhere along the way… I don’t know…” I exhale deeply, recalling my teenage years. “I’d listen to him preach about God’s hand being in everything, but I couldn’t understand how a God who was supposed to be this all-loving being would take my mother from me. I guess I stopped believing. At least believing like I needed to in order to preserve our relationship.”
“So because you questioned your faith, he stopped talking to you?” He tilts his head.
“It wasn’t just that. But I think that was the beginning of the end, so to speak. Over the years, our relationship was riddled with other incidents, each causing the rope to fray a little more. After I finished my undergrad and…” I search for the words to explain this without going into any detail. “Well, he didn’t support a decision I made that I felt was essential to my wellbeing. And I’m not saying that to sound dramatic. It’s true. If I’d followed the path he wanted, I probably wouldn’t be alive today. So, for my own preservation, I needed