Page 13 of Ignite My Heart

Knowing that someone is taking care of the house and nurturing it back to life fills me with joy. Knowing that it’s Garrett who has taken on the crazy, quixotic task?

I don’t even what to do with all the emotions that makes me feel.

It’s dark outside so I probably can’t full appreciate the work that Garrett has done on the place, but I immediately notice the front yard is trimmed and tidy.

As far as I can tell, the gingerbread trim has been stripped and sanded but not repainted. But the slats making up the house look like they might be a crisp white.

I park my car and turn off the engine, staring out the windshield.

A knock sounds on the window next to my head, scaring the hell out of me. I shriek and turn, finding Garrett standing there. Half-naked, sweaty, shirtless Garrett. My mouth goes dry, and my eyes are probably popping out of my head like a cartoon character.

Still, I blatantly check out the masculine torso outside my car door. The muscles are not surprising. Garrett was a football star in high school, so he’s always been a big guy. It’s the ink combined with the muscles and the light sprinkling of brown hair. It’s a blatant reminder that he’s no longer a high school kid. Nope, he’s fully grown and stupidly attractive.

He opens my door. “Not that I don’t appreciate that look in your eye, but to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Have you always talked like that?”

He grins and gives me that “aw, shucks, ma'am” shrug he seems to have mastered. “Come on. Get out of the car, and I'll show you around.”

A pair of protective goggles are pushed up into his hairline, and a fine sheen of sawdust speckles his bare skin like some sort of manly glitter.

Good grief, how do I turn off this part of my brain?

I do what he suggests because I need to tell him the truth about not having a boyfriend or give in and go out with him. One or the other.

Damned if I don’t want to do the “other.”. Of course, that’s probably the pervy, horny part of me speaking because I think he may look even better from behind. I’ve always loved a well-defined, muscular back. The wide shoulders and the narrow waist. His jeans ride low on his hips, and when he walks, I get a peek at the waistband of his underwear.

I try to convince myself that he’s wearing tighty-whities like it will somehow diminish his attractiveness. But I know, without a doubt, that he’d even make those look sexy.

He leads me through the iron gate and closes it behind me. A large oak tree towers over me to my right with heavy, swooping branches. Perfect for climbing. But I'm way past the age of climbing trees.

“How long have you owned this? I ask.

“Um, I bought it three years ago, I guess.”

“And you live here all by yourself?”

“Yeah. I have a lot of rooms I can fill.”

I smile. “You planning to start a halfway house?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of falling in love and making a lot of babies.”

That sentence shouldn’t be the least bit arousing. Yet I find my nipples beading painfully inside my bra at his words. I swallow. “A lot, huh? How many is a lot?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, and his eyes drop briefly to my stomach. “As many as my wife will give me.”

I follow him around the side of the house and into the backyard, where he’s got one of those hanging lanterns lighting up a sawhorse and some lumber.

“I’m replacing most of the molding inside,” he explains, nodding to the woodwork. “Just have another few cuts to make tonight, and I’ll be done. I try not to run the power tools out here too late in case it annoys the neighbors.”

“Have you always wanted a fixer-upper?”

“I’ve always liked working with my hands. My schedule at the firehouse gives me time to work on other things, so it seemed like a good fit.”

“Well, I’ve only seen the outside, but the yard looks amazing. I bet you’ll have tons of kids Trick-or-Treating on Halloween night.”

He grins at me. “Want something to drink?” He nods to the porch behind me. “I’ve got a cooler up there. Help yourself.” He lowers his safety goggles. “Let me finish with this so I don’t forget what I was doing.”