“Those don’t go with your outfit at all, Sayer.”
I huffed out a breath and tried not to drool too much when I noticed he still had on a tool belt that was tugging the top of his faded jeans down on his lean hips. There was a strip of taut, tanned, dark hair–dusted skin showing in the gap between his waistband and the hem of his T-shirt. I wanted to fall to my knees and lick all around it. That was a testosterone overload and my lady parts were ill equipped for the sensual assault the image had on them. God, there was something so undeniably sexy about a man who was good with his hands. There was something that made every girlie part of me pant and come to attention knowing he could break stuff with his brutal strength and then just as easily fix it back up.
“I was headed home. Standing in court all day in heels is awful. I’m not like Salem, who picked these out, by the way. I need to give my feet a breather.” I shrugged. “But thanks for noticing.”
He chuckled and guided me farther into the torn-up house. Walls were missing, parts of the floor were ripped up, lighting fixtures dangled from wires in the ceiling. He was right. It did look like a tornado had hit the place.
“They look cute. You could be wearing SpongeBob slippers and still pull it off, Say. I was just trying to break some of the tension. Shit is stressful right now, ya know?” He looked over his shoulder and reached out a hand to catch me as I tripped over a floorboard that wasn’t all the way nailed down. Thank the Lord I’d taken the heels off. I would have ended up on my face and then died from the embarrassment. “Sorry about the mess. I bought the house at a city auction. It was slated for destruction, so I snapped it up for next to nothing. But the price reflects the current conditions. It’s a fucking catastrophe, but when I’m done it’s going to be the nicest house on the block, and with the way people are flooding into this part of the city, I’m going to make my initial investment back tenfold.” He pulled me to his side as I tripped again, and chuckled into the top of my head as he stepped through a blown-out wall into what once must’ve been the kitchen. “This is the only room that isn’t filthy and has a place to sit. Mostly because we haven’t started working on it yet.”
There was what appeared to be an ancient kitchen table covered in a splattered and stained painter’s tarp and some sorry-looking metal folding chairs placed around it. Zeb worked the thick leather of his tool belt through the buckle and then caught the whole thing in a hand as it dropped. He thunked the contraption down on the table, making everything clatter and I shivered a little because even the sound of that was sexy. He plowed his hands through his hair and bits and pieces of plaster and sawdust went flying in every direction.
“I’m sure it will be amazing when you’re done. I’ve seen firsthand how talented and how skilled you are.” I sat down gingerly in one of the chairs he pulled out for me and gulped a little bit when he bent down so that his face was right in front of mine as he grinned wolfishly. I wanted to blurt out that he could eat me up anytime and anyplace he wanted. Those foreign feelings he stirred to life in me were frightful in their blatant want and need.
“Oh, Sayer, you ain’t seen nothing about how skilled and talented I can be . . . at least not yet.” He pulled back as I blinked at him stupidly, and propped a hip on the table next to me. “But that’s for another time.” He held out a hand and wiggled his fingers in a “gimme” motion. “Let’s have it.”
I dug around in my purse and pulled out the long envelope. I held it out to him and watched as his broad chest expanded out as he sucked in a deep breath. He stroked his beard, something I noticed he did when he was thinking hard on something.
“It seems so innocuous, doesn’t it? Like it’s just a normal piece of mail and not something that can change the direction of my life forever?”
I was a little bit surprised that I had had pretty much the same thought when Carla handed it over to me moments ago. I tucked some of my hair behind my ears and told him, “You would be surprised how important some pieces of paper end up being to us. We work ourselves to the bone for a degree we can hang on the wall. We pick the ruler of the free world by poking a hole in a paper ballot. Some people search endlessly for the right person so they can get a much-coveted marriage certificate, and don’t even get me started on the importance of the papers that someone leaves behind after they are no longer with us.” His eyes shifted to deep and dark forest green at my words. “When I got my hands on my father’s will, my whole world changed. Those papers were everything to me, so I understand why these are so important to you.”
When I got my first important piece of paper—my high school diploma—my dad stood stiffly at the graduation, his mouth pulled taut with displeasure that I had had to share the title of valedictorian with another student. I should have been the best in my class, and honestly I think the only reason he didn’t get up and leave was because of how it would have looked to the other parents in the auditorium. When I failed the bar exam the first time I took it, I thought he was going to flat-out disown me. I could drown forever in the ways I had seemingly let him down over my lifetime. I could have used a hug, some form of reassurance, and all I got was contempt. It was all I ever got from him.
My dad’s will was another piece of paper that changed my life forever. In it he finally disclosed the fact that he had fathered another child, a child he wanted me to split his estate with. A child he had never had anything to do with. A child he had abandoned and left to fend for himself. A child I was instantly and immediately obsessed with because his existence meant I was no longer alone. It was a simple piece of paper that my dad had left behind that had finally given me a family. A piece of paper that had brought someone who loved me and treated me with kindness and care into my life when I so desperately needed it. I would never undervalue the power of something that seemed so harmless as a simple piece of paper when I knew how powerful it could be.