No and no.
If she knew what I’d done, she’d make me leave. That would mean I wouldn’t be able to help her, and I wouldn’t get to spend any more time with her. And time with her was something I both wanted and needed.
Instead of telling the truth and admitting my stupidity, I’d do what I could to make it up to her. Prove I wasn’t the monster she thought I was.
“I know someone who knows someone.”
“Well, that someone you know just about ruined the one chance I had at fixing things.” She signaled the end of the conversation by turning away and curling into a ball.
Reaching out and pulling her into my arms would be a colossal mistake, but one I wanted to make with every fiber of my being.
Chapter Nine
Tessa
The muffled chime of “Jingle Bells” from the alarm on my phone woke me at crap o’clock. How could it be morning already? After two hours of nightmare-filled sleep involving Barb dressed as a Christmastime Freddie Kruger, death would be a welcome relief. Beside me, Keegan lay on his side with an arm slung over the pillow barricade. Lucky pillow.
When I finally rolled out of bed, Max jumped and yipped with excitement.
“Ssssh, there’s a good boy. Don’t wake the big bad wolf.” For once, Max listened and sat down, his spindly tail smacking off the floor. I didn’t want to wake Keegan because I didn’t want to see the look of pity in his eyes again, the one he’d given me last night when I’d revealed what had happened with Shane.
Spilling my guts wasn’t something I’d planned on doing, but when he’d asked questions, I couldn’t stop pouring out my problems. So much for a problem shared is a problem halved. Slicing open my veins with a rusted knife and watching my blood spill would’ve been an easier option.
By the time I left the room with Max under my arm, Keegan had tunneled beneath the covers. In a different reality, I would’ve spooned into him and spent the morning having headboard-shaking sex, but that wasn’t my reality and never would be.
Barb prowled through the foyer like a starving lion ready to disembowel its prey. As usual, she had her phone stuck to her ear, and she continually dragged her fingers through the blunt ends of her hair. The bruised circles beneath her eyes showed a vat of intravenously administered caffeine was needed. Stat.
Despite Max squirming and yowling in the crook of my arm and the mass of electronics and files balanced in my hands, I managed to wiggle my fingers toward Barb and mouth, “Good morning.” Staying professional and courteous wasn’t easy where Barb was concerned, but it was a necessity.
My greeting wasn’t returned. Instead, I received a shake of her head and a thinning of her scarlet lips.
She stopped prowling and tapped a staccato beat with her foot. She was pissed. Or hung-over. Probably both. Too bad. I had too many things to figure out today, and appeasing a snippy woman wasn’t on the list.
Max wiggled free from my arm and scampered toward Barb. The dog must have a death wish. On top of everything else, I’d now have to deal with her reaction to a dog that looked like a lab experiment gone awry.
The tiny canine circled Barb’s legs and jumped up, placing two tiny paws on one of her shins. Her eyes widened, and her foot ceased tapping. If the bitch kicked Max off her leg or hurt him in any way, I would kick her back and then quit.
I held my breath and prayed. Barb’s lips lifted into a smile, not a smirk or a grimace, but an honest-to-goodness face-splitting grin. She hunkered down and tickled Max under the chin and behind his ears before looking at his dog tag. Maybe the ice-queen had a heart after all.
The front door banged open, causing Max to run behind Barb’s ankles and pee on the floor. I was thankful he hadn’t peed on her thousand-dollar pumps.
A gust of wind and a flurry of snow followed Gary, the head contractor, into the foyer. He stomped along the floor, leaving clumps of melting snow in his wake.
He shoved back his hood and wiped a calloused hand over a long, shaggy black beard that may or may not house a mouse or two. “Most of the men won’t be in today, love. The roads are like driving on glass. I’m lucky I made it.”
Jittery panic flip-flopped around my stomach, and I glanced at Barb to make sure she hadn’t heard. She hadn’t. She sat on a chair by the embers of yesterday’s fire cooing over Max, who was now curled up on her lap, staring up at his new friend adoringly.
I rubbed a hand over my forehead. “I need a cup of coffee before I can process this.” The guests would arrive in a few days, and even if the castle wasn’t perfect, it needed to look a damn sight better than it did now. “Want one?” I asked, walking toward the stairs to the kitchen.
Gary followed me. “Is the Pope Catholic?”
“How much work still needs done?”
“Too much. I’ll finish fixing the heat today. That way no one will freeze, but as for the rest, the rooms won’t get a new lick of paint or a deep cleaning. My crew’s stuck in Lifford. Unless there’s a thaw by tomorrow, there’s no way we’ll get everything finished by the deadline.”
“Okay—” I said, blowing out a controlled breath and placing my various electronics and files on top of the butcher’s block, “—this isn’t the end of the world, the rooms are more authentic without fresh paint anyway, and I
