“Hey,” she said, throwing a little extra chipper into her voice.
“That’d be easier if you did it on the driveway. Your driveway’s pretty level.” Not much as far as greetings went, but what she could see of his shadowed face was open and friendly. Or as friendly as he got. His now two-day beard and sleep-messed hair didn’t add much welcoming or pleasant to his look, but she’d always preferred brooding to charming.
“I know it would be easier, but if I did this on my driveway, I’d need someone to help me move it once it’s built. And,” she said with a shrug, “I figured it would be easier to get it level on the grass than move it by myself.”
Looking up at him was giving her a crick in her neck. She put her drill down. Much to her surprise, when she looked back up, preparing to stand, his hand was out. She stuck her hand in his, felt a reassuring squeeze and then a pull that was surprisingly gentle considering how quickly she came to her feet.
“Thank you.” She wiped the dirt off her knees.
“Why don’t you have a friend help you?” There was nearly a smile on his face.
A hand and nearly a smile. Even though he hadn’t said a word to her since their trip to the hardware store, Levi wasn’t the cranky neighbor he seemed to so desperately want to be. Under the hair that had fallen down the front of his face again, there might even be a flicker of humor in his eyes.
Spooking him seemed like a possibility, so she didn’t smile back. Or even nearly smile back. “I’ve only lived here a month. No friends yet.”
His brows raised in surprise. “Really? You seem like the kind of person who makes friends in a day. And you’ve been here a whole month.” He said everything but the last word drily, and she wondered if he were making fun of her until she remembered the near twinkle in his eye and the twitch of a smile she might have seen on his face.
“Well,” she corrected herself, “no friends who could help me today. Ivan, the guy I share an office with, is going out of town this weekend. Perry and Susan are at church, and I guess there was a thing after church. And Caroline doesn’t do power tools. When I said I’d use the drill and she only had to hold the boards, she counter-offered with alcohol when I was done.”
She glanced at the boards that were not yet the rectangle she’d thought they would be by now and laughed. “I think I’m going to need at least a beer. Maybe three.”
Levi looked longingly across the two driveways to his house. For a long moment she thought he was going to shrug and walk back into his home. But he blinked, shook his head against some invisible foe and turned back to her. “I’ll help you.”
She didn’t have to wonder if he wanted to. There was no smile on his face and no light in his eyes.
“What makes you qualified?” she asked, more curious than suspicious.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m a contractor. Normally people pay for my help.”
“Well, I didn’t ask and you don’t have to help me.” Help was help, but begrudging help was almost worse than no help at all. “If I don’t get it done today, Ivan can help me next week. He’s already offered.”
“Yeah, but if I leave you here, I’m going to know you’re struggling, and I’m going to think about it every time I look out a window. I’ll get nothing done.” From his deadpan delivery, she couldn’t tell if he was joking.
“So, really, I’m doing you a favor.” His backward logic brought a smile to her face. “After you help me with this, you’ll owe me a beer.”
Surprise opened his face for a brief second before he barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“That’s a fair deal.” She stuck out her hand to shake on it. And so she could feel his hand in hers again. Touch him again. Rugged, handsome, and he laughed at her bargaining skills. Suddenly she wanted to start touching him and never stop.
His hand lingered in hers, and with it the possibility of more intimate touches. Though, if that happened, she’d have to tell him about her HIV. And even if he didn’t back away in horror—and most people didn’t—he’d still want her to stop touching him so he could think about what she’d said. That everyone did.
Not that she blamed anyone for needing time to think, but, well, it always ruined the mood.
But Levi was helping her with her raised bed, not slipping his hand around to cup her head and bring her in for a kiss. There was no mood to ruin, only this stupid raised bed that she’d half destroyed in the process of building it.
As they sank down to the grass together, Mina kept her rash decision to build the garden bed at the forefront of her mind. The fact that she’d looked helpless enough for Levi to offer to help was a clear sign that she’d not thought the project through. And she knew better than to rush into things, men included—especially rugged neighbors with an air of tragedy about them. Lack of thinking things through made for bad decisions, and bad decisions made her parents worry. They would suggest she get on the job market again. They would call more. They would question every decision they knew about.
She’d moved to Montana for some independence, not to develop an unsubstantiated crush on a neighbor.
LEVI GATHERED THE materials while Mina moved her car out of her driveway. Together they moved everything to the flat surface.
“You’re right,” she said as he tightened the clamps on the boards. “This does make everything easier.”
“The driveway or another person to help?” Levi held his hand out for the drill.
“Both,” she said, though she was shaking her head. “But you’ve only promised to stick around to build the thing. I neglected to ask you to help me move it in place.”
“That’ll cost you a beer.” He gestured for the drill and grunted when she shook her head again. “What, I don’t get beer for my labors?”
She laughed. “I’m not shaking my head at the beer. I’m shaking my head at giving you the drill.” She crab-walked around the driveway, the weight of the drill obviously pulling down at her hand, until she was next to him. Then she bumped him with her shoulder. “Move over. This is my raised bed and my drill. I get to use the power tools.”
“I’ll give up my beer in exchange for power-tool responsibility.”
The way her nose wrinkled as she pretended to consider his request made him want to laugh. “No dice,” she said, with another nudge. “I’ll pay you two beers for a lesson in power tools.”
He gave up with a bark that didn’t quite cover up his laugh and scooted to where he could hold the wood steady while she drilled.
It took Mina a few times with the drill to figure out how to control the power. Levi was pretty sure she was muttering and swearing under her breath each time the drill slipped and she had to release her fingers, but she managed to control any cursing by the time the whirl of the tool stopped. And each time she wrinkled her nose in frustration, took a deep breath and leaned forward with renewed concentration. When she had finally gotten all the holes predrilled and the screws in to attach the first short side of the bed to the post, she looked up at him in triumph.
“You didn’t give me any instruction, so I’m not sure I owe you the beers. But I got it done anyway, and I’m feeling generous. One beer, not two.”
He smiled at her continued reevaluation of their bargain. If he didn’t pay attention, he’d end the day having built a raised bed and offering to make dinner, too. “Your first lesson in power tools is that it would have been faster if you’d let me do it.”
“Does that mean you’d rather not have any beers?” She took the clamps off the board,